twenty-ten

The fact I had to go back through the blog and review should tell you about the haze in which i walk 2010. Part of me can't comprehend that NewYork and Seattle happened within the same culturally defined 365 days. But onward to the critique. I don't know what to say about you 2010. Certainly my friends are done with you and on their behalf you lose marks- and currently I am in the grief of being in the world and all the tragedy and grizzlyness of it all. I did remind myself that biblically speaking we are somewhere warned to look toward the light and not the dark. So there's that. But i have to say, what a strange year.

First off the shadow cast over all of you is my relationship with the EDD. It hasn't been the most positive relationship ever. A little overdramatic. A few close calls, do we end it, do we not. As I sat watching that thin and pallored tuba player shuffle his last at the end of the RoseParade I certainly didn't think we'd be here. The day was warm, and we saw the tuba being put in the back of a van and knew he hadn't made it. But it'd been a year and we were still together. There was that break I took from July to Sept, but then we got back together and i thought ok but we didn't even make it through November and there was trouble again, and because I put spins on things, I'll totally call the EDD bailing me out through March a Christmas Miracle. Which it is. But lets be honest, this relationship won't last. You're going to leave me. You're totally not really good for me in the long run, and you and i both know we have to part ways. But at least we have 3 months to divide up our belongings and talk it out and come up with a plan and lists. I'm not saying we still can't be friends, but really I know it's going to be a while. And running through this like a thin but steel-cabled anxiety is what exactly AMI going to do when the parents move out? Things keep weirdly getting delayed which makes me think something is coming around the corner, whether a husband or a job--- i will i wonder, will I? soon be married to something? or will i be walking this tighrope of getting over you for another who knows how long? Jesus what are you up to? I mean thats the thing- about this whole year really- I think you've got my best interest at heart but man, where is this all heading?

The other thing that I could've done without was my friendship with neurosis and allergies. You have ruled me. And I've had to set up some firm boundaries to keep you at bay. Soy-lecithin, whatever the fuck you are, really does make me break out in hives for whatever reason but so does other random things I have no idea what I ate, when I ate it. It's annoying. Please, and the I might be allergic to strawberries? You've got to be kidding me. What the fuck body? 2011 better have some answers is all i'm saying. And I'm going to bring up the random shoulder pain and heel tragedy of the left side, right now. The upside again, 2010, you're lucky I'm sunny because over the summer i relearned to walk and i found myself doing chattaranga in a safe and non-hazordous to my shoulder way- lesson learned. Ok. I got IT. You don't need to keep reminding me. Since then you've done nothing for my waistline and whatever is going on with my twinging right quad has got to stop. You get marks for improving my neck but that was more Jesus and less you but still I'm going to be generous. 2011 i'm going to need to see the downslope.

Twenty-10, you did give me the word "erratic". I'd had it from before but i embraced it as my own. I am erratic. I had no idea how much it would define me through the year. The fact that I several times went the wrong way on a one-way street, pretty much sums that shit up. You know, that old woman wagging her evil finger at me, like a dare to my rebellious and defiant ways and i was like, what? and off i went. The one counter to that came in February when I got the HolyDays commission. That has been a solid gold thread of obedience and blessings, even when I noted in January that I needed to cut up my credit card. (There was a drawing with flames and a pitchfork right next to it.) I'll get back to that in a minute. That commission gave this year its title. The year of necklaces. There is no way to escape what an impression, what a labor that has been. It blows all the other to-do lists out of the water.

However, March was fairly volatile after erratic got stuck to my back. So I don't know 2010. I pretty much agree that it was for everyones benefit but shitman- why can march be summed up by Ghosts? The highs of the shooting range and fondue, to a russian orthodox funeral, and the bare trees of a yet arrived spring. Pen and I did do that ghost tour, where we both smelled that musky smell of wet wool, but then her grandma olga died, and i made that drive into NY into the guts of harlem, and death stayed right at my door step as I arrived at the Olga to see Joanna into her lovely new digs. It did bring the money thing to a head. I got speared in the gut by Condemnation and still haven't quite shaken the attack but it drove me deeper into praying things and healing so whenever I think about it i do this with my hands (up the scale goes, down the scale goes, levels out). But there's still a chill in the air whenever I wonder about that whole trip. Despite that there was some real beauty to all the pain and loss, I won't deny. Walks through central park and opera and being serenaded at a piano bar, the cloisters, klo's first tea, and books on tape, and dreams foreboding and wondrous dreams.

By April 2010 the emotional meltdown thing came to a 2nd smaller crescendo. So again, 2010- really? I've never been really fond of sobbing and yet here i am again. Breaking up with Biola. I mean I get that the two of us didn't belong together, but was the crime scene necessary? So, so grim. And that woman! I can't shake her. What a harbinger. She might has well had a scythe and black cape. I get it ok. And just like march there was an upswing- warrior dash, the card "not all who wander are lost", quinoa, acupuncture, and the healing rooms of anaheim vineyard, and a trip to Chicago, oh but then there was my first ever visual migraine!.

And though by May i was completely frustrated that I wasn't 100% good at everything, especially engineering, i was visited by that Jay nomenclature and that most awesome jumping spider with the metallic pincers- and after my birthday I got to rub mud all over my body and dry out in the sun and I had some awesome korean food. And the summer with its trips to the beach and I got to meet Ash in person, just confirming the fact I've known her my whole life anyway. And my brother visiting which, oh geez. About time 2010. About time. But that's not your fault. You did facilitate the quasi-bathroom renovation of June. But hello, its now end december and are there any tiles in my Epiphany stocking? I highly DOUBT IT.

Then ok, remember the break from July-Sept. I finally began to confront, again, the fact that I am 34 and I am not ok with being a PA. Still. I am not ok with the industry. I am not ok with E! And yes in the meantime (beyond the spiral of this year) I had awesome danica outings, a trip to ventura with Sarah, wandering through Ojai with Kerry, got better at wii tennis- and I got my new name- One of the Judges (seriously revelatory)- the nigerians hacked my email account, my prayer council began a colossal meltdown, i was promised a jesus sculpey but it hasn't come 2010. (I mean I'm just saying.) By October I was exhausted by all these random highs and lows. The fidji shoes which still kick ass. Going to seattle...gluten free bread and icecaves... but then Zep dying. What is with the back and forths!

By November I finally started using my IPOD that I got in January. I went on that awesome spiritual retreat- total highlight. Downside? Yes. Jesus asking me to examine my loneliness- no-thank you. Of course He knew I needed an xbox video game obsession to get through that. You've got to be kidding me. And doing the math on how old the rest of my animals are- don't do it. Bad idea. They're all going to be dead in the next 2 years. Suck it! And lets talk about it, i broke up with my creditcard. Yes we've been having an affair, on and off since like 2001. And its way out of hand. I might as well be straddling Satan in a seedy strip club in van nuys. I so had to end it. What a fucking foothold. Needless to say it has not come without some consequences. The game setting was at easy. It zoomed past normal to Hard. And my gut can't quite stop doubling over and gasping for breath. It's shaky to say the least. And no, there's no way I can stop talking about it. Shiver. And then as we know the epic doldrums of Advent... Oh and then the day after Christmas thieves broke into my parents new garage and stole $8000 worth of stuff.

Anyway I've gone on too long in my quest to be almost thorough with you 2010. And I'm still at a loss. What the fuck was your deal? Dude, I don't even know. But then i remember all the prophesies and dreams and conversations. And there's got to be something happening here in this manic episode called 365days. I wonder. I sort of marvel at it. And in my landscape I'm getting drenched with rain on my way down the mountain.

So see you 2010. Some how you were a turning point, a brutal agony, a battle, a carcass, a field springing to life, a song, a dirge, a knife through the ribs, a bliss overlooking the kingdom, a flower facing the sun. I cannot tell you.

m.

2010,

It’s time for my letter to you. I’d call you “dear,” but you are no more dear to me than giant cockroaches, slimy silverfish and moldy bread. In short, there’s less than a day and a half left of you, and I couldn’t be more thrilled to see you go.

Being obsessed with details and prone to concessions, even where undeserved, I’m not the kind of girl to assess any given situation in a black-or-white way. So I’ll concede that 2010 brought me some good things ~ deepened friendships, online and off. A sense of contentment (resignation?) with where we lived. I saw M. I went to the lake for the 4th of July. Two good friends were married. I had a new job that I was thrilled to acquire. J.Lo also miraculously landed new work. With a great new church, my faith deepened. And 2010 did bless me with countless little everyday joys. Not to mention a fabulous new pair of boots.

But let’s just be blunt: As a year, 2010, you pretty much blew. Early on, you ripped me off for a few hundred dollars on an airline ticket that, due to ticket transfer fees, I’ll never get to use. I saw M, yes, and on my birthday to boot, but then unexpectedly had to drag her all the way up the east coast to my grandma’s funeral. And although I wasn’t close with them, my grandma’s sister, brother and goddaughter also all died in subsequent months. My brother had skin cancer and my father was diagnosed with Barrett’s Esophagus. J.Lo’s way-too-premature cataracts worsened. Bailey Brown, a.k.a. sweetest dog alive, had an oral tumor scare. And you took M and s.m.’s Zep!

You killed our car time and time again, and hundreds more dollars, as well as a great, smoking heap of frustration, was spent on towing and labor. You gave me the prospect of teaching a graduate-level writing class on slavery – and then oh, that didn’t work out, either. And granted, it didn’t work out because we decided to move, but if J.Lo’s job hadn’t sucked ass in the first part of 2010, we wouldn’t have had a need to find a new one. So thanks a ton for keep him in a low-paying, demoralizing, soul-sucking, badly managed environment and giving him no other choice.

And thanks, too, for making our move so damned difficult. I mean really. J.Lo’s 2-hour-a-day, 6-hours-every-weekend commute was a real thrill for two insufferable months, especially those times the car died and required new alternators, a post-bedtime rescue mission an hour outside of town, an 80-mile tow, and a painfully long refund process. Among other inconveniences.

Also, single-parenting during that time was super-awesome. And by super-awesome, I mean exhausting, depressing, confining, frustrating and not altogether great for my parental self-esteem.

The house-hunting process was also uniquely joyful. J.Lo is so scarred from early property viewings, he still can’t even divulge many details beyond ceiling holes, bird skeletons, faulty framing and leaky basements. And then there was the place we thought we had, only to be slapped down at the last second in the face of an uptight homeowner and an $11,000 deposit because we like to keep our dogs indoors.

Thanks – no really, thanks a bunch – for not one single flipping house showing in 2010. Talk about making the process difficult. Oh wait – there was a single showing appointment, conveniently scheduled during moving week, in which I worked my ass off for 12 hours straight to make the place presentable and no one ultimately showed up. And no one told me. That was rad.

And it was super-awesome as well when you decided to change my job that I loved all around so that I quit and un-quit and am still, still on a ridiculous emotional roller-coaster ride, wondering if I should stay or go. Way to strip away the goodness and meaning.

Strep throat on Thanksgiving was a real treat, followed by the Death Cold, a fallen arch/bum ankle and another cold smack dab in the middle of the moving process. (And that was all just me, nevermind J.Lo and the children’s own illnesses, doctor visits, medications and bills. And my caring for them.) But none of these compared to the stomach bug acquired the night before Moving Day. Vomiting my face off until 3 AM. I mean, you had to be kidding me. Except you so weren’t. What the EFF, 2010. I could barely lift a damn box the next day, much less drive myself, the dogs, the fish and the children 3 1/2 hours to our new destination.

And since we’re leasing/holding down a mortgage simultaneously, finances are as interesting as ever. You know the details, and you know they suck. Thanks for not doing us any favors there.

Now nearing the bitter end of you, you insist on maintaining your awesomeness. Why not go out with a  bang, eh? Throw an esophageal cancer diagnosis at my longtime BFF’s father and put another relative of ours in the hospital – why not. It’s fun stuff. For you.

I’m sure there’s more, but I’ll not waste another second lamenting you. Let’s just hope that in spite of the Apocalyptic-fearing culture that’s about to unfold in response to misinterpreted Mayan predictions, media hype and Ashton Kutcher’s annoying preparations, your younger sibling 2011 does better. Because let’s face it, the bar has been set pretty low.

Not at all fondly,

penelope

mzy,

First may I say that this is my new desktop picture. Yaaaaaay!

Tomorrow we’re going here. Which hopefully will appease me the children after suffering a week home with frigid weather outside. Although at least there was a bit of bike riding yesterday, once the bitter, snow-to-sand winds abated. And soon it’s going to be 50 degrees and sunny? Who knew. My sinuses can’t keep up. So obviously a park excursion will also be in our short-term future, and the checking out of our neighborhood… lake? What? Apparently there is a lake. I know nothing more.

Also, we’ll have to join Sam’s Club this weekend and acquire a decent selection of proteins. Please and thank you.

I have many ideas for the children’s play room as well. Bright blue walls. A dress-up clothes area under the stairs – we won’t make Harry Potter sleep there. I want to make something like this – loosely. I have ideas. And we must acquire a new ceiling light fixture as well, something happy and bright. At the moment, it’s a bare bulb, which obviously is not acceptable. And let’s not forget the space heater, which has been ordered and is on its way.

Today we’re crossing fingers and toes and praying to God and St. Christopher (and St. Joseph, always St. Joseph, RE: the house) that we can acquire a functional vehicle for J.Lo. We are done fixing Monty Montero and are ready to bid him adieu. I can’t say I loathe, but I’m also not fond of, his green visage after two maybe three years of the Same Old Problem, fixed several times over and including a tow or five or six. We could have bought a new car with that money alone. For now, we just need something that runs.  Or rolls while powered by motor, as the case may be.

Which also means we had to make some company-wide budget cuts and for now, we’ve nixed preschool. Grim but true. K.Lo will enter freeschool, i.e. kindergarten, in the fall anyway, and N.Lo can wait. They’ll not suffer, I don’t think. I might, a little. But for the most part once we made that decision, it felt like a weight lifted, which obviously means we’re doing the right thing. The Gut has spoken.

Although don’t ask me how, in the company of children, I’ll accomplish the 50-11 errands I have slated in the coming weeks: join a gym, find a pediatrician, visit the DMV and tags place, etc. etc. and more etc. We won’t ponder that ust jyet.

Love to you. Are we resolving anything in the New Year? Let’s discuss.

penzy fly

penolin,

a windstorm is brewing outside and finding its way inside our drafty house. murder she wrote is on, set in australia this time, a perfect compliment to a dark and somewhat ominous exterior. she's come to see if she's a distant niece of a departed so and so. it doesn't seem like this scenario would ever happen to me unfortunately as I have too many cousins wandering about to be the last line of anyone though i'm at the last line of me, but anyway i hope never to run into a deadbody although i often wonder in what scenario would that ever happen. nor do i want anyone i know to be murdered or disappear or die really. i found myself weeping at about 5 spots in toystory3 as if it was the most heart rending thing i'd seen since deadpoets society, and no one died it was just tinged with loss. but nevermind. as you say mortality, the shadowland seems to hover perpetually on the periphery of us sensitive souls. and why some glimpse more of death than others sometimes seems more a matter of design than randomstance- i wonder. even though we can scarcely grasp that death comes for us all. and yet still it doesn't make life a culmination to tragedy. i had a good conversation with my cousin on tuesday all about whether common sense was culturally learned aka inherited by judeo-christian beliefs the country was founded on or if it was "innate" and encouraged or just simply learned... of course right as we left my cousin was about to tell me about the strange occurance that happened to him that one time after his friend had died but it was too weird to be talked about- my specialty i assured him- but he slipped off the hook and into his car. and then mom came home to tell me that she saw a kid open a lid off a type of sucker, lick it and replace it! mom told him that you shouldn't do such things and he said, but i didn't like the taste... obviously not understanding the point. common sense indeed. the mom didn't understand either with the other 4 kids at her heels and the various gluttonous sampling they were doing of the bins. i mean sure, ok, a bite right? we've all been there. i mean whole foods leaves open bits of things as well as costco, but where's the line? when they don't even know the law let alone the spirit.

onto other small matters,
dad is on a rant about me taking all the purple popsicles, which is untrue. they are the most delicious, and there simply never enough. . . and though the day seemed to spin i managed to finish all the necklaces. last of the last of the last... except for a couple more oneoffs here and there.
i woke up still smelling like garlic no matter how much flossing, gargling and brushing and chewing i did of a mint and stringent variety. and i paid that bogus $50 fine- cash mind you. that hurt.

i'm currently pondering if i should cut my hair or maybe just go crazy with layers? as i haven't dyed it lately. anyway tomorrow i yoga and thats about it on my list. resenting my sideburn hair thats for sure. what else. what else. reading aloud the IR 'mysterious benedict society'with mom... pillows... my unbudging waist line...

(que staring into space 20min)

night.
m.

m dearest,

I feel you. It’s truth. I think being so attuned and aware of the shadows always, it’s difficult to embrace Christmess (coined brilliantly by ash), with the sense of complete joy that perhaps it should bring. I mean for me it wasn’t just the move this year and the sense of cramming in the decorating and the shopping and the festivities. In recent years (when?) words like “wonder” and “magic” and “anticipation” have evolved into something more like “rote.” I mean not completely. As ever, it’s a mixed atmosphere of shadows and light. I can now only consume music in small doses. But I will always, always love my tree, lights and ornaments and all. I mentally bat away dark thoughts about Chinese sweatshops and the overconsumption of so much plastic stuff. I eat up the mounting excitement of the little ones, with their wishes and countdown calendars and Santa dreams. During normal, non-moving years I make ornaments and bake. I look forward to candlelit services and traditional Christmas Eve and Day fare. I devour leftovers with gusto.

But threaded through this beloved celebration is a heaviness, a sense of loss (of what?). Perhaps it’s the lack of enthusiasm in the exchanging of family wish lists, as though it is just another chore to tackle and be done with. The factions of family that choose never to visit. The feeling of our core group being scattered all over the east coast due to completely normal progression – marriages, jobs, children – but I still wish we could all come together somehow. Make that effort. And while it’s certainly easier to create a wish list for gift-givers to check off, it does emphasize the fact of our separation, that we’re not to each other’s homes regularly enough (or at all) to know what each other likes and has or could use – and anyway, is deviation from wish lists and our creativity and thoughtfulness even received well? appreciated? Pretty sure that would be a no. So I, too, just buy off the lists.

And while I’d love to mindlessly plow ahead with the shopping and the shipping and wrapping and unwrapping, my wayward thoughts do land on the accumulation and the fleeting fascination with new gadgets and how fast it all (time) goes. And how before we know it we’ll be doing it all over again, with last year’s acquisitions used or trashed or dusty or forgotten or outgrown. I know it’s not like that with everything. Maybe it’s the “outgrown” part that bothers me the most and how time seems to race faster and faster – too fast. Maybe I’m too obsessed as of late with mortality. But isn’t that what it always comes back to, even if it’s painted as such a dark thread in our world?

Although I suppose if it always does come back to mortality, that should ground me right back to the true meaning and essence of what this season is all about.

I don’t know. It’s too big to put into words really. But I do get it.

more soon,

pen

dear penelolight,

my dad is in the living room watching ben-hur. i moved from the living room for one moment and the christmas music ceased and now the rumbling of chariots echos through the small house. i had blown out the candles, lit since this morning, so perhaps i was relinquishing the festivities to the mundaneness of microwaved hotdogs and the furtive looks of charlton heston. and yet still. it seemed too soon. mom and i did manage to make gluten free skinny pancakes so that tradition long standing since i was a kid may continue unabated. and 'how the grinch stole christmas' arrived in the nick of time yesterday so we could watch it while we lit the fire in the fireplace and sat down to breakfast in the living room. (another tradition). dad the most unfestive among us, who vocalizes no traditional desires, (though deep down in a rent of his heart he has them) also managed to put checks in the tree for mom and me. mine wasn't that big but i won't complain... he does probably think i get enough already.

now the pluckier among us insist there are things to celebrate on this holiday of holy days. and i agree, its the baby jesus. sweet good baby jesus come down to the mess and muck of the world for me. and i am grateful. grateful for the whole configuration of it. that light leading the wisemen and the glory of the Lord appearing to shepards. and marys birth pangs. and josephs fear and awe. but God did design us to need people, companionship- no man an island and it IS hard when you have so much to fight against and baby jesus is still sweet and profound in his manger and you don't have a husband to help you carry it all up the hill. or children to bring good tidings and joy to. think about it. it-is-lonely. it is lonely to be surrounded by a quarrelous faithless family. and no money or flour-filled treats to fill it with. suicide rates increase for the holiday season for a reason. all the pain and the lack are poignant and devastating. but i do agree its a better thing to find a meaning outside of what coulda shoulda woulda be.

and mom and i upon further discussion decided that its because generationally its new. we can only do so much as intrepid explorers of our family to breathe sacred life into events other people take for granted. it's a struggle but it is not without reward. however, i resent the idea that i may never get to carry it on to anyone else. regardless of how loved i feel by friends or by my mother- it is not big enough to fill that lack. and i will even as the tide turns to joy as God IS with me, continue to struggle with the abyss at my shoulder.

but so far as i'm back here and now and not in my head, and the parents are gone to my grandparents house, and my dog is curled up on the couch chair i can tell you the things so far that are warm blankets on a chilled heart:

• prime rib (day before christmas eve, boxing day and possibly a turkey for new years)
• christmas trees and making garland
• friends giving me things i most wanted like butterscotch sees pops and my fish air freshener called gordon and unexpected things like a vase marked with religious symbols and a book on the liturgical season. thoughtfulness washes over me and makes me want to return it.
• gluten-free skinny pancakes and a big breakfast christmas morning
• a fire in the fireplace
• how the grinch stole christmas, a christmas story, a nightmare before christmas and anything having to do with scrooge and tiny tim.
• a candlelit service (good enough even if its for 2 songs)
• christmas music
• time with friends
• reading with my mom
• tea and sliced apples
• dad and mom going to get the tree (dad doing anything with season) a big and stately tree i might add.
• still being eligible for unemployment (i add that in there as a christmas miracle of sorts)
• making christmastide necklaces

ok, its time for lunch. some sort of leftover. staring at that bright blue sky. pondering christ come down to earth to save us from the bondage of decay. amen amen.

penthreads,

because you care:

in other news cathy told me her color for 2011 would be hotpink and suggested i find a color. perhaps it will be goldenrod- or is this more like indian summer, gold, or liquid sunshine? i have been in a dark purple called 'black orchid' for the last 8 years (the bedroom color). i don't see myself throwing that over anytime soon. but visually i do feel more vibrantly jewel toned. we'll see. in reviewing the blog entries for december i do find we change a lot as much as we stay the same. its all in the nuance isn't it.

anyway i've got to go back to lounging or sewing myself a bedskirt.

m.

besides that i'm fighting off a cold. woke up with the lymph nodes and a scratchy throat. have been dosing ginger, vitc, liquids and inproductivity.

hello,

if you're my mom and reading this, i will be complaining about christmas, as i always do, year after year. you don't have to read it. you are my christmas all year round. all the best parts.

there's something about x-mas pen, that i wish i could carry the burden of by myself. but whenever it comes to it i stand at the threshold and can't. i need a family. i need a loving father. i need someone to put up the christmas lights with me and i want it to be a big deal when the angel is the last thing on the tree. mom always used to put up stockings and i do recall treats for santa, and the insatiable desire for gifts was always there. so that's not it. its not mom- the fudge was there, the cookies, the skinny nordic pancakes, and all the christmas treats. but there have never been any stories, or any songs or any movies, or any mirth. no rituals but mine. and a definite absence of jesus. mom does like to look at lights- dad too. that was always nice. but there is never any warmth by the fire of togetherness. which is why christmas has always been a lonely place for me. its the same over and over about christmas eve alone with my hostile teenage brother, every adult playing pinochle, and me bored out of my mind, listening to the dullest jazz on earth, looking at the tree that is dressed identically the same every year, on the same brown carpet, and the same painfully uncomfortable couch. to my dads side that offered no relief, filled with cousins i never played with to aunts and uncles equally alienating to unfriendly, boisterous and loud, and tasty food but just as isolating. same/same. it's all a wash in my perception. ah remember that one year i got to be somewhere else for christmas? that was nice. i did make a stand this year (another one) and say i was going to the christmas eve service at church instead of going over to my aunt/uncles- but then its just one more piece of evidence to say i'm walking this path alone, and the family i do have i'm rejecting outright. the jesus thing is a pretty important factor and a lack of spiritual leadership in the family on top of a lack of overall non-leadership, and non-faith, and non-warm friendliness leaves them in a desolation and me needing to seek solace somewhere else for my own safety.

ll said the other day that i should pick things that are meaningful to me and do them. its hard though when you automatically start a process of internal detachment almost completely out of my control. its hard to rally. the necklaces have really really been a help. i am feeling, as i probably said, very adventish. i will say though equally every year something keeps ripping through. as i equally pull back another part of me is straining for the tree, and the lights and the decorations and the presents and maybe one year, it'll push back early enough where i can have enthusiasm for all those things. instead of gasping toward the decorations and not even able to conceive of gifts. but this year we got advent necklaces, and the pillows out i made last year and a final push for decorations right on the 11thhour- maybe next year it'll be lights, gifts, and cards for everyone. i don't want christmas to = sad, lonely, depressed, despairing, and fretful, but it does. and my attempts sometimes successful = internal optimism, abiding in jesus, knowing the abundance i do have. and i can start early on spreading the joy and goodwill and tidings and what not next year. and be a voice for that myself. we'll see. maybe i'll get into gluten-free baking...

anyway how's your fallen arch? make sure you're not favoring the outside of your foot too much cuz that caused mine some serious trouble after the fact. i'm finally doing better in that dept. it doesn't seem fair you're now having to hobble around. i think i might be getting sick or something in sympathy to you but at heart i don't really accept it. *sniff.

also unrelated i'm jealous of your internet saavy.

oh and wait, what? propane heat? what?

well nevermind, i hope you have a fabulous christmas in this foreign environ you're in. and i do love that santa is a hot mess. sans the you getting knocked around part. you're having a tough time with the various plagues and upsets, and i'd rather you not be having a tough time. maybe we'll get a girls weekend in chicago come feburary... or march? or... i don't know.

otherwise i've been knocking stuff off my madeuplists- buttons sewn onto dress, check. b/w checkered dress DONE (never to alter another dress AGAIN), decorations up (maybe make some garland)... there was some other stuff. i bought a new sheet set for my bed... golden rod. daring i know. i only have the one set oddly and it disintigrated- frayed, ripped and there it went. i will take pics. so when i went to see blackswan (crazy and fucked up lets be honest- but you know i appreciate a somewhat interesting insight into the descent into madness and in my mind demonic oppression but whatever), i went and got them along with overdoing it and getting a frap when it was cold and rainy out- which its been like, for like- days. days! so crazy for CA. i embrace it though. fits my mood and i get to use my fancy yellow umbrella. but lets again be clear- i don't have any MONEY. stop it. i mean i needed the sheets. and i wasn't going to get microfiber sheets. i mean they make it sound alluring but i'm suspicious. so i went for the fancy from london made in india 310 threadcount sheets in a strange color... why not. i gotthematross. $16. so if i can't pay my phone bill for january that's why. besides the no-job thing. but one thing at a time. anyway there's more in there somewhere- i was social AGAin last night, so count that a success against all odds i went... i've got to stop watching so much intervention besides, the office was interesting, i keep missing new eps of everything, i want a kitten, and a puppy, and a butterscotch lollipop, and a new bass fish air freshener for lolly, and i want to break the cloud looming over my head and read more books and listen to some christ-mas music, and to play clue with you, and finish the epiphany necklaces and load stuff on etsy and watch another episode of deadwood. i'll prioritize from there. i totally need to go eat lunch.

xo,m.

there goes the angel...here's me bearhugging my tree. i love you tree.

let’s carry on, m

My past 4 weeks have now included:

strep throat

the death cold

the stomach bug of death

a wrapped ankle from a fallen arch

cold, part deux.

Hello? Hi. I mean, I realize there are worse problems in the world, but I find it incredibly vexing. And let’s not forget K.Lo also had strep and the stomach bug, N.Lo had the death cold, and now K.Lo has some other random thing that is possibly strep again. Is any of this helping the moving and unpacking process? It is not.

Also, I’d like  to point out that if you google “fallen arch,” the majority of pages are geared toward the senior citizen set. And I’d like to think I’m not there yet. Anyway, I managed to find the damn Ace bandage – which, of course, was in my car the whole time – and maybe it’s working, although J.Lo mocks me every chance he gets.

***

Pause from snark. The colors in our new house are pretty livable, although I admit I’m already itching to paint the kitchen and the master bedroom. Even though I vowed not to. Because what if it doesn’t work out? I worry. We still have a house to sell, and this one to buy. So why paint? But it’s in my nature to go there. 

And yes every cell vibrates with the newness of this place. And I’ve barely left our yard. The fragrant rosemary bushes and the tiny icicles on every tree branch. The train the distance. The farm field beyond the line of trees that is yet to be explored. And once it’s warmer, the parks and the museums beyond our front door. Not to mention church and schools and doctors and dentists. So much work to do. And friends(?) to make? I suppose that happens sooner or later.

***

I went away for a little bit, possibly over 24 hrs., but now I’m back. On a side note, I love this propane heat system, but it’s making me look old as hell in spite of my best efforts to hydrate. And I’m not a humidity kind of girl. But I might have to break down and buy a flat iron or maybe Santa will bring me one.

Even though Santa is just a hot mess this year. And our new mailman is going to hate him soon, because amazon likes to pretend it’s going to be cost effective and ship everything at the same time but really it sends every last thing separately, which in Christmas 2010’s case translates to approximately 50,000 boxes. And I didn’t even spend that much. The last-minute deals were just that amazing.

I suppose I should go for now my friend. A giant box of medicine cabinet items await my unpacking skillz. Wee.

disjointedly yours,

pen

oh friend, hello.

i did some sewing today, some lintrolling, some postofficing and i rallied and got all the decorations out of the attic... it was a close one there. it was right on the fringe of who cares christmassmishmish. but i lit a fire in the fireplace and put some music on and made the living room a right and proper festive place. mom still hasn't come home with a tree but i have hopes for tomorrow. i would say i could just bring myself a christmas tree but whats the fun in that, and honestly now that the credit card is gone it hurt that 17.68 i spent at the post office today. but then i felt that i really do want to continue to send mail. so...

also i'm a little jealous of your fb photos. mostly because its like fb knows more about you than i do. totally irrational i know- but i'm suffering loss right now.... so i can't be expected to not be petulant and demanding. i'm unsettled that you're unsettled. though by the looks of it more settled than before. but i can't picture you there. despite the pictures. also i'm currently debating the quilting idea we settled on... do i quilt the logcabin pattern or a large and awesome dragonfly each square? ach.

otherwise my other thought today involved the question if i was infact really addicted to being jobless or if i'm perpetually traumatized and thus it mkaes me detach from the fear associated with the cliff. i can't decide. or making much sense. at times like these i crave pancakes and french toast. and the sugar i've been having lately- last night after this chocolate sorbet i was like , ugh ... agh... binge. it was tasty with walnuts but still. the hot shower didn't solve the problem and i couldn't fall asleep for the ringing humming stuffed left ear thing until i put the music on loud. and then i woke to the sound of the cat puking. now he's trying to get me to groom him because he's been misted all over by the non-rain.

ok, i better go.
m.