same/same,

I like that you phrase love as lack of control. It  makes me look at it over and over again. Trying to remember my own words as it were. I think back to this conclusion and I think of my dog Bodo. Ever loving with those sad soul-filled eyes. Glorious.

There was a moment of sitting with him on the bench where I understood the root of  my anger- and it wasn't love. It was control. I wanted things my way, the exact way, the right way. Not that my anger was all wrongly ordered- i can and was rightfully (righteously) angry about a lot of things. But with him- to expect certain things of this willful creature just wasn't realistic, and i was setting us up for failure. And then later with a particular friend I was constantly counseling at the time the absolute frustrated rage i would get in when they wouldn't take my advice. And it wasn't that I was wrong. But it didn't matter. Right or Wrong. It didn't make them see or hear. And that's when I shifted again to the concept of the heart- and how God is the one who has to bring the change. None of us on are own can. It's tyrannizing. Good habits help I'm sure. Relinquishing control and perfection bit by bit- knowing when to fight for it or let the hems be crooked on the curtains and knowing i can as soome 12steps must say I can only change what i can change, and the rest is in God's hands. Perfection is a sonofabitch though- that goes for how we want the world to be, we say it's for it to be better- but "better" in what sense? and for whom?  Obviously it doesn't negate action but it humbles it. I think puts it in its proper- this is your plot of land- this is your actual neighbor- sort of space.

You need to listen to the Keller sermon- because he talks about Anger as an aspect of Love- not the antithesis of it. But that it points to what we love. And that because of sin our love and thus our anger is sometimes disordered. As in not in the right place. It's good fodder for thoughtstuff. I found the concept to be the next fun avenue to venture down about anger- but yes- love is surrender. it's that heady dying to yourself- i will not hold onto this- it isn't mine. Hummm. Good stuff.

anyway -

Orange is the new - no. Is it a positive show? What's the sitch on it- i mean jail right? obviously? And then what?

Fake funerals = awesome.
Tomato blight = no bueno. It reminds me of the poor pumpkin harvests we've had the last 5+ years.

Pro-run - yea zacposen!

and - mental vacuum.

at church is just constant family politic negotiating- oh and the amazing coffee which tastes like butterscotch. so i had my fill of that until my stomach was eating itself. and as everyone - all those extroverted greeters were like- how are you? i replied with "driving rain"... and then said "well i do have an umbrella. so it's not all bad." and i managed to floor him/the greeter/ as he actually said, thank you for that thoughtful response, and then spoke in my language to say that he hoped that it would clear later in the day and that the sun would come out. i found articulating my day with various weather conditions to be the best so far for me in fighting my i will not lie or non-respond.

oh and mom is all bit by bit moving out- one sheet bundle of stuff at a time. as she has things to hang in her closet now. nice. like rods and a few shelves? well we have to start somewhere.

things to look forward to = finished painting, 2 finished necklaces, possibly batting cages. hanging curtains, various things in rooms... these are actually things to do but we'll see about momentum.

off to kill evil,
xo m.





 

Mornin',

So i've made some of my first home pressed coffee by Peets. How long do you let it steep normally? The taste is all right. I wouldn't say resplendent- but good if I double the recipe. Like 4 scoops instead of 2. Is that excessive? I can't help it. I have allergies. Thee breathing smelling/taste thing? My eyes are red and I'm snarfing and hacking. Which makes me think I need to eat more honey if that does in fact work. I'm eating an apple and've had an egg and 2 ezekial bread toasts which would be better if there were nuts baked into the bread but anyway. And i'm watching the office- I'm not sure if it needed to be 40minutes long especially since Jim's sacrifice continued throughout the episode to make Pam seem like a selfish deluded hosebeast who had hopefully no one on her side- as it seemed as the episode progressed that there really is NO going back. Even for fictional characters. Am I right? And then when Andy was like... blah blah blah follow your dreams and Jim didn't even catch the correlation? Or was he just putting on a brave face? I do love davidwallace. And oscar and angela and the bit with stanley and phyllis at the end. Nice. I think the heavy actor issue of whether andy would be a success or not was a bit irritating-  especially since he is already "successful"- it would've been much better to have a discourse about inital fame and then what do you do "after"...

Meanwhile it's suppose to be blazing today which i'm not happy about because my body finally adjusted and i'm no longer freezing so that 95 is actually really hot and wilting- yesterday i attempted to do something and i was like ugh no. I do continue to move my parents a few boxes at a time. Progress is being made I have to believe. Though it doesn't really seem like it. Which messes with my productivity meter. But really bit by bit. Here we go on down the lane. Like my dad came over yesterday and was like blah blah LATER. As if the time was not now. Me being back is NOW. I am the ball in motion. Be the ball. Roll. You can do it. You're almost there.

The other day i rounded the corner to my bathroom and i was suddenly struck by my feeling 'old'/er now staunchly in my late 30's. And my drivers appointment made on the 8th (a bit late) so i can take that new picture- the one that hopefully will show a benchmark on the way down the lane. And who really knows what to do with myself. And there's a bump on my chin that was a blemish once and i think officially scarred? And is now a permanent discolored bump which drives me nuts. It's like if i were to make an analogy about Stanley from pro/run finally making it after a 3rd try out and then being so completely off his game that it was disasterous... and patricia and her trees? are you serious? I'm with Nina- wacky, whimsy but cohesion and sophistication- come on. Worst season of pro-run ever. Though i did love that zak guy. I guess I am in the right place to be the person I am. LA.

What else... oh puppy spaying and my cats all have fleas. Which they do and are now medicated on the necks waiting it out. Oh corruptable nature. with its nits, fleas, bedbugs (ambers apt complex), lice and cockroaches and ants and mites and whatever else... you just have to shake your head at. And thank a tidy 1st world order that eradicates such things.

Allright, let me go beeee productive. Or think about being productive? It's hard to say. Maybe i'll just stare at stuff and watch the day go by. Decisions, decisions.

m.


ps. for bruckner i think i'd actually ... hmm i could google image it and guess the address. that might be fun.



 

Weekend Notes

*N.Lo spit up on my head TWICE.

*Had ten tons of leftover lemon ice paint from kitchen, which was most unfortunate, as it cost a lot of money. Turned lemon ice into LEMONADE and painted the backyard playhouse.

*Brought the WHITE paint inside the house and began touching up spots on the kitchen trim that are chipped. Found that touch-up job makes moldings look wonderful and un-touched-up moldings look even more horrible. Have not stopped touching up trim. Found even more white paint in the laundry room, foresee myself painting trim forever.

*K.Lo and N.Lo (dare I speak it out loud) had two very good nights of sleep. Consecutively. As did I. Sort of.

*I've hidden all the candy so my daughter won't ask for chocolate all day long. Or at least so I can answer, "We don't have any" and effectively pretend that's the truth. The candy is now conveniently located in a drawer right next to where I keep the computer in the kitchen. Don't anyone tell her.

*The new Smartini blog is super-cool and you should visit and comment a lot. I personally am a comment whore.

*Two very cool things I read recently are here and here. One is about Neville Longbottom and the other features several favorite movie/TV/book characters including Barney Stinson and Dwight K. Schrute. And Mose. They made me laugh out loud, like genuinely laugh, which startled me.

*The peas and cucumbers and the marigolds in the garden have sprouted. I have yet to grow anything else.

*My To-Do List for this week (prepping for N.Lo's Baptism Sunday) is approximately 10 miles long.

*My hair is falling out, which happens sometimes after being pregnant. Usually (I would imagine) only if your hair grew a bunch while you were pregnant. Which mine did. When I was pregnant with N.Lo.

*J.Lo has been making this ice coffee that is crazy-good. But I'm not really a coffee drinker? Because I get buzzed from one cup? So I've been super-productive the past few days and my toes are really tingly. That is all.

the art of unproductivity

New Sunday tradition at the Lo house: False Labor! It really is a fantastic way to spend one's time, highly recommended. At least this time I wasn't dumb enough to go to the hospital only to be sent home. And I ate my protein. There were contractions, all day, strong enough to be timed. But they were erratic. Nervewracking. And essentially pointless.

I'll admit that I am hitting the wall as far as wanting this kid out of me. I realize that I still have a good 2 1/2 weeks until the actual due date, so my impatience isn't fully warranted. The more reasonable side of me acknowledges, too, that I should be savoring these last few moments of only having one child to look after, as opposed to one child and a newborn. Even more whining, even less sleep. BUT. Everything is bulky, sore, uncomfortable. I can no longer do my super-hero tricks. It's exasperating to drop something on the floor, but downright insurmountable to drop a favorite shirt in the dark alleyway between the washing machine and the water heater. I mean, are you kidding me?

False labor is especially frustrating to me because it inspires me to do the exact opposite of what is smart, productive, or zen. Instead of focusing on other things around me to make time progress at a reasonable rate, instead of accepting that true labor will come when it's time, I focus completely on the labor, forgo all normal activity. The hours and minutes become an oozing puddle of slime. K.Lo amps up the whine factor, J.Lo and I become nervous wrecks. It is a most unfortunate way to spend the weekend.

Today I vow to:

run 2 loads of laundry

dust the living room

finish cleaning the bathroom

watch Desperate Housewives, decide whether it will make the cut

take Bug for a walk

or something to that effect.

May I only continue to be so wise.

Weekend Wrap Up

Friday: We made it to "Streetcar Named Desire". I was suffering under fatigue, discovered later, intestinal malaise. Tragic. Spent moments frustrated, calm, interested, and enjoying. Highlights: Dark chocolate, pomegrante martini.

Saturday: Finished AnneofGreenGables. Spent moments feeling as if somebody was going to die, went looking around for things to give away. Wondered what exactly i was looking for. Went and saw "Superbad"... it.was.a.good.time. Hi-larious. Do not remember anything else.... besides my cat Marley.
Sunday: Photo spectacular. I could not, would not, leave the house. I worked in the yard. Did chores. Communed. Mom discovered this:

Then: in unprecedented productivity i was able to check this off my list (hovering there since winter?)

And then for gusto I made this A-line skirt- needs some fixin but mostly pretty good:

THEN my cousin came over and talked my ear off for 4+ hours. He tried to get me to be spontaneous. With only 5 minutes notice. i said, NO: (i had a skirt to sew and mom had sock monkeys to make. . . so he came over and talked all sorts of talk. And we sewed. And he talked. And I talked, sipped water and by the end of the night, god love him, totally said: now, i have to get to bed, get the fuck out. Which he did but only after 1/2 hour transition to the door and now i am at work, near unconscious- but it had to have been a good time. Bcs that's what the pictures tell me.

........