Kitty kitty kitty

You hear people say all the time that people resemble their pets. This always to me bring about images of stocky men in bowler hats walking broad chested English bulldogs, or women wearing $700 shoes and smothered in diamonds carrying a little yappy purse dog with a diamond studded collar. In my head though I always associate this with people and their dogs, not their cats.

I am not really sure why I have this particular mind set. I am a cat person so one would think I would go to cats before dogs in my mind, but I don't. I always think of dogs and not cats. It isn't that I think cats are devoid of character, if anything I think they can have more character than most. I mean seriously if you have ever owned a cat you know how true this is.

I suppose it is because I have never really seen anything of myself in my cats. We own three cats. The youngest, Miss Etta James, is really our cat whereas the other two cats most certainly belong to one of the two of us. Etta has not thus far chosen between the husbeast and me. She seems to like us both pretty equally. Actually I think she likes the kid most, maybe she is really her cat and just living with us.

MuShu is the husbeasts cat. She has been from the moment we saw her. He picked her up and the first thing this tiny little kitten did was reach up and put a paw on either side of his nose and proceed to lick his nose. He melted. I paid the nice lady from the ASPCA. There is never any doubt that he is her thumb slave and I am simply tolerated.

My pretty baby boy.

It is fine with me that MuShu is his, because Pigwidgeon is mine. Pig is the oldest of our cats. We got him just before we hit our one year anniversary of dating. He has been my sweet baby boy from the day we brought him home from the shelter. He was nothing but fluff and head back then. The husbeast used to joke that he was going to tip forward from his head being so damned big.

He has always been an incredibly smart cat. He figured out quickly how to trick everyone in the house into feeding him. It took us a couple of months to figure out why we were going through cat food so fast and why he was so fat. Feeding him five times a day will do that.

He also figured out how to open doors early on. We used to find him hiding in cabinets all the time. Whenever he got startled he would run and open a kitchen cabinet, run inside, and reach out to swing the door shut behind him. We had to start placing heavy objects in front of the bedroom door at night early on to keep him from escaping. He has taught this trick to the other cats.

He is starting to get old though. He will be 12 next summer and I am well aware that this is about the age that cats start having health problems and age issues. Thus far the only signs of his aging has been him becoming a little more grump about everything. He has no problem very loudly displaying his displeasure with everything. Even when you pet him he will let you know he is a cranky old man.

Last week he started to sneeze and sniffle a lot. I didn't think much of it until I realized he wasn't eating. This cat lives to eat, so I knew he was sick. The vet said it was just a head cold and gave me an antibiotic for him. He said that cats don't like to eat what they can't smell and he should be fine in a week or so.

So this past week we have been babying the old man. He has been allowed to sleep where he wants, he is getting his own can of food a few times a day to go with his medicine, he has been getting extra skritches and cuddles, and no one is yelling at him when he makes a lot of noise. He is being treated so well because we love him and he is not well, but really it helps that he looks so pathetic that no one with any heart could be mean to him right now.

Seriously this is the most pathetic sick cat ever. The first day after he started his meds he just sort of lay in one spot all day long. The husbeast picked him up to give him his dropper of medicine and he barely put up a fight. After the meds were done I brought him a dish of food and he just barely raised his head up enough to get his mouth in the bowl. He didn't even try to stand up to get the food, he just let me sort of hand feed him.

It was at this exact moment in time I realized my cat and I are exactly the same. Sure there are lots of things about us that are similar; I am smart and clever, he is smart and clever, I love food, he loves food, I can be very vocal, he can be very vocal. All of that aside though, we are both ridiculously pathetic when we don't feel good. I mentioned this to the husbeast and he laughed as he agreed with me.

Thankfully he is on the mend. His head is still full of snot but he is up and moving around acting more spry. He has figured out that medicine means a can of food so he is less pathetic around medicine time and more eager. This all makes me happy. He may be getting old and grumpy but he will always be my sweet little fur baby.

99 Red Balloons

There are moments in your life that happen and are uniquely profound in the simplicity of the moment. Images that strike you as so beautiful without reason that is almost hurts. Things that should mean nothing at all but still touch you to the very center of your soul. Nothingness that is all consuming.

If you have ever seen the movie American Beauty there is a scene where the weird neighbor kid is showing the girl next door a video he shot of a plastic grocery bag caught in a little whirl wind. The video is just nothing but watching this bag dance on the wind, skipping across the ground before leaping into the air once more in this graceful ballet.

The kid pontificates about the beauty in the moment. He goes on and on about how it just caught his eye and he couldn't help but watch it. He goes on and on about this bag for what seems like forever. At first I was inclined to think it was just another example of how strange the kid was, but as I watched it I realized that he was right. As weird as he was, what he was saying was true.

http://www.pbase.com/mhartman/image/117579874

One day a few years ago I cam home after a fairly good sized storm had rolled through. As I glanced out my back window I noticed that among the damp brown and gray muck of my yard was a single bright red balloon bouncing about from puddle to puddle. 

I stood in my kitchen for a long moment watching as it skipped along the ground. It was so brilliant in comparison to its bland surroundings that I couldn't take my eyes off of it.

As I watched it I began to think of what a grand adventure that balloon must be on. I wondered where it had been and what things it had seen. Had it started out as part of a childs birthday party or some other festive celebration. Perhaps it had been part of a promotional offer from a local store. Mayhaps it had even made its way from the tiny amusement park just down the road from our house.

Now it was free to sail on the winds of the storm and see so much more. My yard had to be one of many stops the balloon had made. It might just be taking a pleasant rest from its journeys before setting off on another adventure. There was the whole world for it to see, one puddle filled yard at a time. Who knew where it would go next. 

I suppose I could have easily thought of it as nothing more than something sad and lost. Some bit of joy a child had carelessly let slip away or something discarded after its brief bout of usefulness. I could have looked at it as nothing more than garbage that had sailed into my yard on the wings of the storm.

Only none of those things ever occurred to me.

I ran out into the muddy yard with my camera and stood under the dripping trees snapping picture after picture of the balloon as it splashed through the puddles. It stayed just long enough to let me take its picture before the wind swooped in and plucked it up into the sky again.

It danced above my head for just one moment as though it was thanking me for the use of my puddles and to wish me farewell before it went off into the uncertain future in search of adventure.

No day but today

Today my heart is heavy and my soul feels sad. I know that my people, my clan, my family of choice are feeling this weight of loss and sorrow today as well. I wish I had no need to write this post now, or ever again.

I know that the world is still reeling from the tragic events of last week, but in my world, in our small corner of existence, our own small tragedy seems to be the only thing to focus on. Death is never something that comes without the price of sorrow on some level. Whether it is senseless loss of life, the end of a long struggle, or simply passing in the night, it never seems fair.

I've been staring at a blank screen for most of the day trying to think what I can write here. What can I write that is a comfort to myself and to my loved ones in this dark hour. What can I write that would do justice to the man who is no longer here with us. What can I write that will ease the strain on my soul.

I am not sure there are words.

The truth is that this is a post that I have written in the past. It is a post that I will write again in the future. The truth is I have reached a point in my life where the words 'natural causes' are going to be more likely when taking that painful phone call. No longer is it senseless tragedy alone that will claim those I care for. Sometimes it will just be that time.

While riding silently home last night, after spending the evening amongst familiar faces, drowning our sorrow in beer and fried food, I simply clung to the husbeasts hand as we drove. I didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do but choke on a few tears. He looked over at me, lit only by the glow of the red light we sat at and told me in a raspy voice that it was just one more promise he couldn't keep.

He said it was only something small. It was something that normally would not have mattered. The last time it was only a promised steak dinner. This time it was only the promise of a warhammer game and some beers in the garage. It was nothing that should have been anything of consequence. Now though it is a promise that will never come to pass and suddenly it seems like the entire world.

Death seems so much harsher lit by the bright lights of a Christmas tree and surrounded by the sounds of Silent Night. It seems so much more unfair as we enter a season designed around togetherness and family and showing your love for those around you. It seems so much worse when there is suddenly a hole in your world.

I suppose it makes us hug those that are still here a little tighter. It makes us say I love you with a little more reverence. It makes us smile upon a freshly born child a little more. It makes all those meaningless promises so much more important to fulfill.

Today is a day I didn't want to write a post, this post in particular. I am sorry that I had to do it. I am sorry that someday I will have to write it again.

I am happy though that I can write it. I am happy that I am blessed enough to have people that I love so very much. When I lose one it weighs heavy on my soul, but I would rather this brief pain than not have all the joy that they bring to me.

To those who have come before us and to those who are still here, always show your love. Leave no promise to tomorrow, because someday tomorrow might not come.

Losing myself to Losing Beauty

Sometime about a year ago while I was expanding my blog reading world I stumbled upon Losing Sanity. I can't tell you how I got to Johanna's blog, but I was instantly happy that I had found it. It quickly became obvious that this was a blog that I was going to want to read and really enjoy.

I remember quite clearly when I started reading her blog she kept mentioning the book she had written, Losing Beauty. It was supposed to be a modern day retelling of the Persephone and Hades myth. Honestly after I read that I didn't need any convincing that I should read this book. I am a total sucker for that sort of thing.

Sadly I found that at that particular time Losing Beauty was only available in e-format. I didn't have an e-reader of any sort. This was still well before I left the stone age and got a smart phone as well. I had no actual way to read the book. I was incredibly sad.

Then the day I was hoping for finally came, the book was being printed and the luddites of the world could finally enjoy her book as well. Considering I had wanted to read this book for a while at this point one would think I would go out and buy it. Only I didn't. It, like most things, was placed on my Amazon list for eventual purchase.

When I finally got a tablet I did think about buying the book at that time. The thing was I was still trying to get used to the tablet, and I had this huge stack of reading waiting for me, and I was actually reading three books at once, and it just sort of slipped my mind.

That is it slipped my mind until a few weeks ago Johanna announced that the second book in the Persephony Campbell series, Losing Hope, was being released in mid December (next Monday to be exact). Suddenly Losing Beauty was back on my radar. I remembered how much I had wanted to read it when I first heard about it. Now I had this tablet and it would be so easy and convenient to just download it.

So I did.

It was so very much worth the wait. I had planned on reading it slowly. I was going to read a little in the evening before bed and then finish it up this weekend so that I wouldn't be left waiting anxiously for the release of the next book on Monday. I should have known better.

I downloaded the book on Wednesday afternoon at work and was finished with it before work ended on Thursday. Now to be fair I did read for a while at home Wednesday night, but I must admit I didn't get a lot of work done at the office on Thursday. I just couldn't put the book down.

Actually I couldn't put my phone down. My tablet was having some technical issues so I was forced to read it on my phone. If you have never tried to read a book on your phone, trust me you aren't missing much. If you do read books on your phone I would like to know how you haven't gone blind yet.

Technical issues aside, the book was wonderful. I already love reading her blog so I should have known that I would love reading her book. I found Johanna's take on the myth to be incredibly clever. I loved the sense of mystery she built around the characters. I was constantly wanting to know what was going to happen next. Even when I knew well in advance what was going to happen, I was still in a place of suspense when it finally came to pass.

The book follows the life of Persephony 'Persey' Campbell, a strikingly beautiful young girl from Iowa, that along with what seems to be almost unnatural beauty, also has a strange magnetic pull to her that attracts everyone. More precisely her pull seems to attract peoples secrets, which they can not help but divulge to her no matter how dark and depraved they are.

Haden is the ruler of the Underworld, who has found the anonymity of a modern uncaring society to be freeing if not a little dull. The story starts from the first time that Haden sets eyes on her. It takes him only one look at Persey for him to be hooked. Not even an immortal creature, once worshiped as a God, is immune to the elusive golden haired beauties strange powers. Though to his fascination she seems to be immune to his powers as the ruler of the dead to see humans ends.

The story follows through Persey's life as she tries to make her way through the world without having to bare witness to every persons dark inner secrets. All the while Haden, now obsessed with the unique beauty, plots and plans his way into having what he desires; Persephony as his eternal wife and queen. We watch as Haden manipulates the world as best he can to achieve his goals, though even he can not seem to avert fate and natural law.

I loved how the book explored good vs evil on multiple levels. Watching the individual characters battle with their own internal demons while you also see the worlds demons filtered through Persey Campbell and her unique abilities.

The book ended in such a way that neither good nor evil had triumphed. Battles had been won but the war is by no means over. Old questions were still unanswered and new questions were waiting just formed on the edge of consciousness. Thankfully I only have to wait until Monday to get my next fix.

I highly recommend this book to anyone who likes books with some mystery, some romance, or likes modern retellings of old myths or stories. This book was a delight to read, and even a slow reader like me flew through it. Johanna has created a wonderful world and woven a fantastic tale to which I personally can not wait to see more of.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

It occurred to me yesterday that while it is completely undeniable that the holiday season is upon us, for many people the holidays do not truly begin for them until certain things happen. For every person it is something a little different. I am sure you have all heard laments about this from someone in your lives.

I have been hearing for weeks now that people are unable to get into the holiday spirit due to the unseasonably warm weather Texas has been experiencing. I have also heard people say they just don't feel it is the season until certain foods, music, shows, or events happen. For some people it isn't until that certain decoration is pulled out of the attic and put on display.

Today I decided to share with you something that make it the holiday season for me. As some of you know I am a bit of a Grinch when it comes to most any holiday. I don't mind other people enjoying them and going insane decorating for them, but I don't have that urge.

We do minimal decorations in my house. The tree won't go up until the Friday before Christmas. There are no outdoor lights. I suppose a lot of this has to do with laziness. I am the one who has to decorate and take the decorations down, so until someone else (*cough-husbeast-cough*) wants to actually pitch in, minimal is the word.

Still it doesn't mean I don't have things I love to see and do. It also doesn't mean that every year I don't add at least one tasteful holiday decoration to the decor I do put out.

Anyways. Here is a thing that to me make it truly the holidays.

Probably one of the surest signs for me that it is the holidays, and has been since I was a tiny girl, is the appearance of the Christmas castle.

The castle is a bunch of old cracker boxes, toilet paper rolls, oatmeal containers, and any other object we could find to make a new segment. Each piece is carefully wrapped in festive colored, mostly metallic, wrapping paper. After it is wrapped we would then decorate the piece with bits of ribbon, trim, cutouts of doors, windows, crosses, or whatever seemed festive.

Once all of the pieces were decorated you had yourself a bunch of castle segments. All that was left to do was put them together as we liked to create our holiday castle. It could look different every year, and since we added at least one new piece each year, it never stopped being new.

This is a picture of my mothers castle. My grandmother had one as we were growing up that we added to yearly, and I know my Aunt has one as well. In my mind it wasn't the Christmas season until the castle had been assembled.

Mom snapped this picture last night and sent it to me. It really made the fact that it is indeed the holidays sink in for me.

Whether it stays cold or gets hot again, whether there is the right sort of holiday themed food in the stores, whether the radio blares Christmas music or not, as long as I know the castle is up, it is Christmas time. What is it in your world that makes you know that the holiday's are upon you?

Notes from a Monday

- I got my hair cut last week and it is now significantly shorter than it has been in some months. Even though it has almost been a week now since I had the length taken off I am still having trouble adjusting to the shortness of it.

I keep shocking myself when I look in the mirror, having forgotten I had cut it all off. I keep reaching up to tuck it back over my shoulder only to find my hand waving at nothing. I keep using way too much shampoo and hair product. I keep having to remember how to make my short hair style the way I want it to and not make me look stupid.

It is a thing. Good thing it looks cute on me.

- The cut on my wrist is healing nicely. I was finally able to take the butterfly stitches off on Friday night without fear that I might rip the wound open again. I have to admit though that I am still fairly convinced I may rip it open again.

It doesn't look that bad, though the more I look at it the more I realize how very close I was to a very bad situation. If my wrist had been turned just a little more, and I am talking like half an inch, there would have been a hospital visit there. I also would have gotten to see if my new steam cleaner was any good at taking blood out of the carpet.

- I am almost done with my Christmas shopping. I am pretty sure I have 90% of the stocking stuff covered which is always my favorite part. I have a couple of items left to get for the stockings, but those can wait until a little closer to the day.

I do still have a couple of people left on my list. They are the people that I just really have no idea what to buy for them. The frustrating part is that every time I go to buy them something I find something perfect for the people I already have a ton of stuff for.

Sometimes shopping is just hard work, even for someone with shopping-foo like me.

- The weather finally turned cold last night. After a month or so of incredibly lovely pleasant weather we had a cold snap. This morning there was a very light dusting of snow on the rooftops and the cars. People all over the city seem to be elated by this turn of events.

I for one am less than pleased. I hate the cold. Hate it. We have had weather that most people would kill for. I mean seriously it has been mid to low 70's, blue sunny skies, gentle breeze for over a month now. I know it isn't what one would consider traditional holiday weather, but seriously. Why would anyone want to trade that for bitter coldness?

I suppose there are some things I will just never understand.

- The women in my office are being extra chatty today. We have gone through a bit of a pleasant streak of relative silence lately. They have either been out of office, or had very little to say as of late. Today has ended the streak though.

Every few minutes they start up a conversation. This wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for the fact that they are all sitting at their own desks and just shouting at each other through the cube walls. Why they can't just IM each other is well beyond me.

Maybe Santa will bring me some nice ear plugs this year.

Soul food

Yesterday started off very poorly for me. I don't really want to go into the details, but lets just say the events of the morning did not leave me in the best of moods. I was not really someone that was fit for public consumption in my very angry state. I felt very much like having a Foamy worthy rant at anyone who crossed me.

That really isn't a pretty or a happy place to be. I like being in my happy place. Everyone should want to be in their happy place. It is warm and squishy and happy. Well mine is anyways. Your happy place can be anything you like. That is why it is your happy place.

I had a couple of options for how to fix this mood problem I was having. I could have gone and found liquor while at lunch. It is amazing what a margarita will improve your mood. I also could have gone and gotten a peppermint milkshake at lunch since that is pretty much instant happiness in a cup. I also could have done some retail therapy since I am the type of girl that works on.

The thin is none of those things seemed right to me. This cranky was coming from someplace deep inside. It came from a weariness in my soul. It was not something that could be fixed with just booze or ice cream or a shiny new toys. Those would just be temporary fixes. I needed something that would soothe my soul.

So I went home and I cooked.

There is nothing in the world that I find more satisfying than making a good meal for people I love. It is a soothing balm for me. To put the love and energy into that meal and then turn around and feed it to my loved ones is all I need to set my world right. Watching their faces light up as they eat is just a happy comforting sight.

So one giant pot of potato soup later I sat amongst six people I love dearly feeling warm and content. They were well fed and satisfied and so was I. The dark cloud over my head had dissipated. My soul was content once more.

Oh yea, and my tummy was full. That is important too.

Cleaning day is a very dangerous day

Did you know that super glue can be used to close a wound and is in some case considered better than a traditional suture? It was used in the Korean war to help stop bleeding and close wounds while in the field. It is especially useful when you are home alone and have just cut your wrist open in a freak cleaning accident.

What? That hasn't happened to you? Weird.

So this last weekend was the first weekend after faire ended. In my world that means a two day cleaning spree. My house never comes out of a faire season in any shape fit for human occupation, so I feel two days of deep cleaning the house is in order. It allows me to relax later guilt free.

I was lucky in the fact that the husbeast was out of town for a weekend long bachelor party. Him being gone allows me to clean as I like with no one getting in my way. Sure it meant I had to move furniture on my own, but it is a price I am willing to pay. Seriously  no one wants to be around me when I clean.

The day was going well. I had done most of the dishes the night before, a couple of loads of laundry had been finished, the front room had been cleaned, and the master bathroom had been scoured. I was in the midst of cleaning the master bedroom and it was only mid afternoon. I was on the path to finishing the cleaning much earlier than anticipated.

When my grandmother passed away earlier this year I was given a collection of small old glass bottles that used to be on her mantle piece. The bottles were from the barn on her parents property. Really they are something I remember very fondly from childhood, so I was eager to accept them. They now live on the red shelf in my bedroom.

I had begun to dust the shelf, carefully picking up each bottle and dusting it off before setting it aside. About halfway through the collection something happened that I can't really explain. I mean I know what happened, but I don't really know. You see I had a bottle in each hand, one freshly dusted and one needing to be dusted. I was in the process of setting down the clean bottle when the undusted bottle slipped out of my hand.

As I was watching the bottle fall towards the dresser where it would surely shatter into a million pieces, I had a knee jerk reaction to stop its descent. Both of my hands grabbed for the bottle but I still had a bottle in my left hand. The two bottles made contact, and it is possible that the falling bottle ricocheted off of the other bottle and into the edge of the shelf. I am really not sure as it happened very quickly.

What I do know is that I caught the bottle. Unfortunately in my effort the top of the falling bottle broke off. Now it didn't just break. Oh no, that would be too easy (and boring). No, instead of just breaking off, the broken chunk of glass shot away from the bottle and sliced cleanly across my right wrist before disappearing into the ether.*

At this moment time seemed to stop. You see it didn't hurt at all when I got cut. I sort of just watched as my wrist suddenly split open. It wasn't bleeding or anything. I was just staring at this open spot in my skin marveling at the fact that I was pretty sure I was looking at muscle. I had  never seen a wound like that.

At first I thought the glass had gouged out a chunk of flesh. I have seen wounds like that before and was prepared for that. Then I realized the edges were too smooth and uniform for that. Also there was the lack of a piece of flesh that had been removed. It was at this point I put the bottles down and squeezed the wound together and realized it was indeed a clean cut. I had just flayed part of my arm open.

That is also when it finally started to bleed. I ran and got some gauze and then realized that there was no way I was going to be able to take care of this wound on my own. I had none of the right first aid implements, and I am right handed. Closing a wound with your non dominate hand is very hard.

I quickly texted the kid and my best friend asking if they were around. I tried calling them as well but there was no answer. I was trying to avoid sending a text that said I had cut my wrist open, which is funny considering when I cut the tip of my finger off last year that is exactly what I texted the kid. Somehow though saying you lobbed off part of a digit and saying you slit your wrist open have very different reactions.

I couldn't get a hold of anyone in my area to come help me. Visions of having to duct tape my arm with the help of my teeth and driving to the ER were swimming in my head. It never once occurred to me to call my mother in law. My mother in law who is an RN. My mother in law the RN who lives five minutes away from me and could have driven over and fixed me up or driven me to go get stitches. What can I say, I wasn't thinking clearly.

As I am considering how I can get to the hospital I suddenly remembered that I had found a bottle of super glue earlier in the day. I have actually used super glue to close one of the husbeasts wounds before. This was a brilliant idea. I didn't need anyone to help me do this.

I did post something on Facebook to check with a paramedic friend before I got all glue happy. After that though I was all over it. Literally.

Ok so here is the problem with super gluing a wound together, especially when doing so with your non dominant hand; super glue sticks to everything. By everything I mean it not only stuck my wound together (completely without pain might I add) but also glued my thumb to the wound. Thankfully it was just my thumb and I was able to peel it free without ripping the wound open.

After that everything was fine. I texted the kid and my best friend to let them know I was fine and not to panic. Of course 45 minutes later when they saw the texts they both responded a little panicked. The kid started texting me that she would be over as soon as she found pants. I assured her she could stay pantless and I was fine.

I also texted the husbeast so he wouldn't read about my injury on Facebook. I discovered the quickest way to clear a craps table is to send someone a text saying you slit your wrist but are fine. All 8 of the guys stepped off the table to call and make sure I was indeed alright.

The super glue proved to be a decent solution until I had to shower. At that point the super glue came free from the wound. Apparently you can't get it wet. So I just super glued it again. This time I managed to actually glue both my fingers to the wound. Twice. On the third attempt to glue it together I made sure to keep my finger as far from the wound as I could because I was really tired of ripping the wound back open. I succeeded that time, though I did glue my entire thumb to my arm.

I found some butterflies the next day and removed the super glue altogether. Putting on butterflies with your non dominant hand is almost as difficult as the super glue. I think I went through five before I got two to stick and do what they were supposed to do.

I am now left to wonder how long I have to leave the butterflies on and at what point I can stop worrying about ripping the wound back open from putting strain on my wrist. The cut is a good one. It is about an inch long, and had it been about half an inch further toward the center of my wrist this post would have been about me making my neighbor drive me to the ER and then having to use my new steam cleaner to get blood out of my carpet.

From all of this I have learned that keeping super glue in the medicine cabinet is a good idea, especially for accident prone people like me. Also the husbeast has decided that I should have a sitter anytime he goes out with the guys considering this is the second time I have significantly injured myself in his absence. As I look at my wrist I think he might be right.



*Seriously I searched everywhere and found no trace of the glass. It is either behind the dresser or lost in the cat box. Yes I sifted through the cat box so as not to injure one of the cats but I found nothing at all. It is possible that after it attacked me it then exploded into tiny slivers which I managed to not step on and instead vacuum up. Or you know it disappeared into the ether. 

Things no one told you about Love

When I was a little girl there was nothing more in the world that I wanted than to be in love. More than I wanted a pony, or to be a princess, or to not go to school, I wanted to be in love. Being in love is something that is force fed to us from birth pretty much. It is almost like it is programmed into us.

Nearly every fairy tale you read is about being in love. The fair princess and her handsome prince defying some great odds to be together. True loves kiss will solve all the worlds ills. There is always a happily ever after.

Here in the real world things work a little differently. Love is one of the greatest powers in the universe, I will  not deny that. True loves kiss, or at least the first kiss, can stop traffic and be accompanied by fireworks and singing angels. All of this I have lived and felt and loved.

The part they never tell you about in the fairy tales is it is not really 'happily ever after'. Hell sometimes it isn't even 'ever after'. It is not some magical smooth happy effortless thing that happens when you fall in love. Love, and marriage, is this really messy complicated difficult thing that you have to work at constantly. Constantly!

The thing is, we aren't wired to love anyone 100% of the time. It is hard to just like someone most of the time. Love is a wonderful powerful thing, but humans are annoying and there will always be some point when you just can't stand to be around one another. All those annoying yet endearing habits your significant other has will eventually make you want to throttle them.

Is this a bad thing? No not really. This is a normal thing. This means you aren't stagnant. This means that you are alive and feeling. This just means you sometimes have to work a little harder at the whole loving and being together portion of the deal. Sometimes you just have to stop yourself from smothering the other person with a pillow.

Also, no one ever tells you that people change. People, by nature, are constantly changing. You are not the same person from day to day let alone year to year. All the things that happen to you in your daily life change you. Sometimes it is subtle and sometimes it is huge, but it is there. No one tells you that eventually you will wake up next to this person and realize they are not the person you fell in love with, and you aren't the same person either.

Again this isn't a bad thing. This is just the way things are. You have to grow and adapt together. That is part of being in love. You have to stop and look at them as who they are right then and decide to still love them. You can't look at them and see who they were and long for that instead, because seriously that isn't going to happen. If you only want that static image of them when love first began, you are in for a rocky ride with a bad ending. That sort of thinking will just eat away at your soul.

Most of the time, if you are willing to see it and accept it, these changes in yourself and your partner are not deal breakers. You can learn to accept and love them as they are. It might not be easy. In fact I can say that it actually might be really hard and probably a little painful. Still it can be done. People stay married for 50, 60, 80 years so I know it can be done. You just have to decide to keep fighting and trying.

At the same time not every partnership is salvageable. It is a sad truth that fairy tales do not prepare you for. Sometime people change too much on both sides. Sometimes, especially when you fall in love young, you grow up into different people. Sometimes the people you grow into are not the right people for one another. Sometimes it isn't forever.

I don't think this is a failure on anyones part. I don't think that the people didn't love enough, or try hard enough, or care enough. I don't think that is the truth at all. I think sometimes people just grow apart and grow into people that are better off apart. As my friend Niki says, the distance demon is a hard thing to fight. Sometimes that demon wins.

Now of course sometimes people don't try or fight for love and just give up when things get tough. The thing is it will never get any easier. You can call it quits without giving it a good try, but the next relationship you find will eventually get tough too.

If you give up every time it gets tough you will never find your true love because here is the truth of the matter; love is hard work. Love is work. Love is constant 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year work. Love is never going to be completely easy. Love is going to be a struggle. Love is going to be painful and messy and ugly. Love is a bitch.

Love will not conquer all and love is not all you need. You need patience and strength. You need compassion and empathy. You need courage; boatloads of it. You need stamina and determination. You need to be willing to give everything and then some and be prepared to lose it all. You need to be ready for a fight.

In the end though love is worth it all. It is worth the pain and frustration. It is worth all the bullshit you will go through. There are those tough times that no one prepares you for. There are all the things that the fairy tales don't say. There are also all the good things that they do tell you.

So even though I said love isn't all you need, when you come right down to it, the truth actually is, all you need is love. 

Late for class

I dream about being back in school all the time. It is one of those dream staples for me along the lines of how every bathroom in any dream of mine has at least a dozen fancy bathtubs in them. I really have no idea if there is any significance to either of these things, but one would think there has to be considering how often they are features of my dreams.

 It is almost never college that I have returned to. Sometimes very rarely I am in elementary school, but that is very rare. Mostly I have gone back to high school. There is always a very plausible reason for it in the dream of course. Sometimes I am still actually in high school and sometimes I am 31 and going back to school to take a few classes I had somehow overlooked 13 years ago. How I would have missed classes or why it would matter now, I don't know. Dream me however is always alright with it.

I can never find my locker in the dream. I think this might be because for the most part I never used my locker in high school. When we had to do the quarterly locker checks I would have to be reminded where my locker was and then struggle to recall the combination. Apparently some things never change.

I also can never remember my schedule in the dreams. I am constantly questioning if I should be going to gym or algebra first thing in the morning. I also almost always realize that I have completely forgotten to go to a class for weeks. Usually this class is a science or math class. It always leaves me in a panic.

Also almost all of my dreams feature one of my actual teachers. It is normally Sharp to be honest. On occasion my French teacher has shown up and my 5th grade science teacher has made more than a couple of appearances. Last night it was my speech teacher from high school.

When he showed up in the dream I was certain it wasn't a dream. I was actually at a conference and he was there as well. It was such a shock to see him. He was older, which is expected, but since he was only about 25 when I had him as a teacher it was a little jarring. None the less he hugged me and we chatted about where life had taken me and him in the last decade. It was really pleasant and seemed so real.

Then of course a bell rang and I was late for geometry and couldn't open my locker and then realized there was a tornado bearing down on the school. You know all the typical things that happen to derail a perfectly lovely conversation with an old acquaintance. Well typical for my dreams anyways.

Am I the only one who has dreams like this? Do you have weird constants in your dreams? Are you constantly stuck in school, or in a bathroom with 12 tubs, or on a train, or having tea with Mussolini? I would love to know I am not the only one. I would also love to hear any theories you have about what they could mean. Theories are fun.

The post that got away from me

I just wrote an entire post about music and erased it. I realized in the end that I was being really cranky and I shouldn't inflict that upon all of you. No one needs to see that, trust me. Of course it does leave me with the quandary of what to post  now.

If I write one post that comes out cranky it is pretty much a guarantee that anything I write is going to come across like that. It is a state of mind that is hard to shake. Once I get like this I can't help but to let it bleed into other things, like my writing.

I am hoping to shake this funk off by the end of work since I have plans tonight. The kid and I are going to go bra and dress shopping for a friends wedding next week. Well the bra shopping is incidental to the wedding. I just need new bras. Really it has nothing to do with the wedding. In fact I already have my dress, I just need to find a wrap. She needs a dress. And bras.

I suppose you have to be a woman to really get the significance of bra shopping. It is an especially big deal if you are not a standard size. As my friend B says my bras are not sewn but engineered by the Naval core of engineers. Sometimes I think she may be right. Seriously when you start getting into the mid range of the alphabet to size your bra it is a whole new ball game.

I am more than a little jealous of women who can walk into a Victoria Secret or hell even a Target and buy a bra right off the shelf. I was in high school the last time that happened. High school people. I passed my ten year reunion almost 4 years ago. That is a long time.

Still I am thankful that there are specialty shops that exist so I can buy bras that fit and are attractive. I hate that apparently it is assumed if you have really big boobs you don't want cute or sexy bras. What the hell is that all about?

It is sort of like how apparently if you are fat you also have a huge ass. So very not true. I am here to tell you I only got the T portion of the T&A scenario. Also might I say that being heavy is not why I have big boobs. I was a very full DD (probably closer to a DDD or E honestly if I had ever bothered to be fitted) when I was a size 10. I am never going to lack in the boob department, even if I was starving to death.

And somehow this post go away from me and I have had a rant about bras and boobs. I really didn't mean for that to happen, but there you have it. It is at least not cranky right? It is just, well not really what I was expecting to write about. What can I say, boobs happen.

Putting off today

I seem to have fallen into a deep pit of procrastination. I have so many things that I need to be doing and yet not a single thing is being done. The most productive thing I seem to be able to do is clear out space on my DVR, and honestly I am failing at that.

What am I doing? Well honestly not much of anything. I am playing a lot of games on my phone and on facebook but that is about the extent of it. I know they are time sucks, but this is a little silly. Also I am not really sure I can blame the games on this bout of non productivity.

Mostly I play the games at work because they are an alternative to working. I have other alternatives at hand though. I could read a book. I could work on a story. I could work on costuming paperwork that I am already behind on. I could even make grocery lists. Alas I do none of it.

I think what it comes down to is that I am just really tired and don't want to think unless I absolutely have to. I want to just let my brain decompress as much as I want the rest of  me to decompress. It is one of those hazards of working faire. Full system shut down.

The thing is though that I am starting to get really annoyed by my own procrastination. I don't want all of these things that need to be done lurking out in the ether waiting for me to finish them. I want to look out and see a clean slate so I can relax without anything hanging over my head.

I have pretty  much given myself until Friday to get this all out of my system. After Friday I am going to be productive again. I will clean the house, I will get the chores done, I will do my paper work, I will do my work work, I will stop procrastinating all the things.

For now though I think I will play some more sudoku.

Pretend this is a real post

I have so many things I want to write about but today is not the day for writing. After posting on my phone for three days in a row I am extremely happy to be back to my keyboard where I can at least tell what I am writing. Still it is not only the Monday after a faire weekend, but the Monday after a three day faire weekend. To say I am a little brain dead and lacking focus is an understatement.

I can't really think of anything random to post here. So let us just pretend I posted something incredibly poignant or witty here shall we? I was brilliant. You were riveted. It was amazing.

I am so happy you enjoyed.

Done

Once more faire has drawn to a close. I am looking so forward to once again finding some sense of normalcy, even if it is for only a few short weeks.

In all honesty I get no rest. That is a post for another day. For now the long drive home.

One day more

It is freezing cold outside and tomorrow is the last day of faire. I am exhausted and sore. I want nothing more than to sleep for a week. Instead I have to get up in the cold and work tomorrow.

For now I am snuggled under my blankets in my bunk listening to the others chat out in the cold. It will be a long day tomorrow and I need my rest.

Still as tired as I am I wouldn't trade this for anything. One last good night of faire sleep. One more faire day to go.

Goodnight. Sweet dreams.

Black Friday is the devil

I will write more on this when I am not having to post from my phone. Let's just say that I hate what Black Friday has forced merchants to become, but I hate more what it has caused consumers to become. It sort of is the antithesis of the day that precedes it. This is a great example of what is wrong with our world.

More later.

Surrounded by thankfulness

I am sitting out on the balcony at the Cauldron enjoying the cool breeze on this pleasantly warm day. The husbeast, the kid, and several others are sitting about alternating between quietly enjoying their electronic devices and chatting with one another.  The kids are down stairs wrestling about and expending energy. Next door there is some cooking going on and chatting with old friends and attempting to find the Texans game on the internet.

This is my Thanksgiving day. Later there will be a big meal as is the thing to do on this day. There will be chatting and there will be watching of shows. There will be laughter and camaraderie. There will be mid afternoon naps and avoiding of the dishes.

There will be a relaxed sense of peace.

I could sit here and list things I am thankful for. This is the day for thankfulness. This is the day you are supposed to acknowledge those things. I am however not going to do that. I am thankful for my many blessings every day, and while I am still thankful today, I don't need to say it.

Today instead of saying it to all of you I am going to go and show my thanks by being present in the moment. I am going to enjoy my friends. I am going to enjoy my meal. I am going to enjoy this beautiful weather. I am going to enjoy my naps and my shows. I am going to show my thanks by enjoying the things I am thankful for.

Happy Thanksgiving.

The long wait

The day before the long Thanksgiving holiday has arrived and with it comes a scorching case of the I-don't-wannas. My mind is filled with all of the delicious thoughts of the days ahead. I am not just talking about food either. I am thinking of sleeping in and laying about watching my shows. Also lots of tasty food, but that sort of goes without saying for Thanksgiving.

Alas I am stuck in the office today just waiting for my vacation to begin. It is sort of needless to say that there is no work really happening in my office today. There is hardly anyone in the building, and from the sound of chatter going on in the far corners of the office I would say that those who are here are not working any harder than I am.

I often wonder why they bother opening an office the day before a major holiday. No one is working because they can't focus for the sheer joy of a vacation. It is a fairly universal truth that this day is made for slacking. Why not save the electricity and just let everyone go?

Of course if that were the case then the day before would simply take on this role. If you gave everyone the day before Thanksgiving off then the Tuesday before would turn into the universal slack day. I think then it might even be worse because people then have a five day holiday in front of them. Also a two day work week is just dumb.

I am eagerly waiting to see whether or not we will get an early release today. It is typical that they let us go early. Some years it is 30 minutes early. Some years it is 3 hours early. I am hoping on the latter this year. Also this year my supervisor is out of the office. He took the whole week off. The last time this happened my group was forgotten in the early release process. I am hoping this is not the case again.

So here I sit, fidgeting and trying to kill time until I can go home. No work will get done since I can't really make myself focus.Well I mean focus on work that is. Focusing on turkey induced comas to come is very easy to do.

Mmm turkey.

Running out of steam

I know it is the end of a faire season by how incredibly exhausted I am and how much of a disaster my house is in. No matter how much I sleep and no matter how much I clean those two things are a constant during faire season. So at the end of the season I can guarantee you that it is pretty bad.

I find myself wanting to go to bed around 9:30 every night and not want to get up until that last possible moment in the mornings. Even then I spend most of my day yawning and longing for a nice nap. I get home from work and have the overwhelming urge to do nothing more than snuggle into my couch.

This of course doesn't help in the least with being able to keep my house in some semblance of order. It seems every week I get a little further behind. The dishes pile up a little more, the carpets gather a little more animal hair, the dust grows a little thicker. I do a little here and there when I can, but it never seems to be enough.

I think it is fairly obvious why I spend my first free weekend after faire doing a deep cleaning of the house. In the state it is in now there is no other choice. A light cleaning would simply never do. Things have just progressed beyond a nice simple clean.

Then there will be sleep. Lots and lots of sleep.

After that things will be right in the universe once again. That is until the next faire starts in about 8 weeks time. Just long enough to recover enough to proceed.

I think I might be insane.

Filler

I have a bit of faire hangover. I am incredibly tired and incredibly achy. In turn I am incredibly disinclined to write a post.

So this is sort of a filler.

Hooray filler.

I promise real content tomorrow when my brain is working better.

Holiday week woes

Thanksgiving week is upon us and I am struck by how I am both happy and annoyed by the prospect of a short week at work. One would think that only working threeish days would be wonderful, and it is really nice on one hand. On the other hand it can be a huge hassle.

Since my job involves putting the data in our databases for the clients, we do a lot of weekly maintenance. There are all sorts of things that have to happen every week. Most of these tasks are spread out over five days, so you can imagine that suddenly only having three days is an issue.

There are a lot of things that simply won't happen during this week. Most of it will just be pushed off until the week after without much thought. The thing is though that data sort of compounds. When you try and do two weeks worth in one week everything gets pushed back just a little. It is a minute thing, but it really adds up eventually.

By the time we get all the wrinkles smoothed out it will be Christmas and we will be facing the same problem all over again. Of course Christmas has the added bonus of a New Year holiday following it the next week which makes the end of the year particularly frustrating in the land of work.

Also there is the fact that we work on Wednesday. Every year we are told that we will be allowed to leave early. No one is really doing any work on the day before Thanksgiving. Most people took it off if they had the PTO. Those of us stuck in the office shouldn't be forced to suffer. We have places to go and turkeys to cook.

Every year it is sort of a crap shoot as to what they consider early release. I know we have at least once gotten out three hour early. I know more than once though we have been let out a mere 30 minutes early. I know I shouldn't complain about it, but seriously? Half an hour? That is almost insulting really.

Still no matter what time they let me go on Wednesday I will still have two full days off. Ok I will have one full day off and then three days of work at faire for our final weekend. Still it is something. I know people that will be working their real jobs on Friday and the just sucks.

I am thankful for the job I have and the holiday schedule they keep.

Quick comment on the cold

The internet is super spotty tonight so I am typing this as fast as possible to try and post it before I lose connection again.

It has finally become cold outside. Fall in Texas happens for all of a month and then we go straight into winter, which in truth only lasts a couple of months if we are lucky. We then go into a very short blustery spring and then straight into summer which lasts for most of the year.

I love the heat quite honestly. I am just not built for the cold. I am sure it has its good points, but I don't really see them. I doubt I will ever move anywhere that has a real winter. This southern girl would just not be able to adjust.

So I will bundle up in my bunk here in a minute and enjoy the fact that this is as cold as it is likely to get, and it will be gone before it really sets in.

Chipping away

Some mornings just seem to be out to get you. You know the ones I am talking about. The ones where you don't even make it out the door to work without asking repeatedly why you bothered to get up at all. The ones where nothing goes the way you want it to. Yea that was my morning.

I woke up early which is not a bad thing really. I mean early up means less chance of being late to work. The thing is I woke up early because I was having frustrating dreams. You know the type that leave you angry at the world and wanting to punch someone. I had a whole night full of those dreams and woke up wanting to scream. So instead of sleeping an extra 20 minutes and risking more frustration I hopped into the shower right after the husbeast vacated the bathroom hoping the warm water would wash away my dream induced angst.

What I failed to remember in my eagerness to get the day started was that if I don't give a good 30 minutes between showers, there is not a lot of hot water to be had. During warmer months I don't really notice since I prefer colder showers when it is hot outside. It was 63 inside my house this morning when I woke up, I wanted a hot shower. It was lukewarm in the beginning and very unpleasantly cold at the end.

I scrambled about the cold bathroom as quickly as I could to get ready which was apparently an unwise decision. Somewhere in my morning routine I managed to take a chunk out of the side of my thumb. I didn't feel it when I did it but I discovered it when I made it to the laundry room to get my clothes for the day. It only hurts if I touch it, which sadly I have discovered is going to be often as I type with the side of my thumb.

I went to make my lunch and was beginning to think my day was turning around. I discovered I had twice as much lunch meat left as I thought I did which meant I wouldn't have to go to the store directly after work so I would have lunch stuff for Monday. Then I had a masterful moment of coordination and dropped my freshly made sandwich on the floor. So much for not having to go to the store.

I did manage to get to work on time, early even, and without any incidents on the way in. That was no small miracle. Most mornings I make my drive to work and end up sitting in the parking lot fuming at someones driving stupidity.

I am alone in the office today, so I had planned on having lunch at my desk and then going to Target to walk about and get away from the office. Sometimes it is nice to just walk around and browse. Plus I could get dog food and lunch meat and save a trip to the store after work. Then I got a call saying someone is buying something we posted on Craigslist and I need to go home and get that ready on my lunch break instead. So much for relaxing.

Nothing today has been horrible just all very inconvenient and annoying. Enough things like that happen and it just makes you want the day to be over with. Sometimes low grade annoyance is worse than one huge disaster.

It could be a lot worse, but it could also be a lot better. I would just like for the rest of the day to go smoothly with the worst thing happening being the pain in my thumb every time I hit the spacebar. 

Skyfall

If you had asked me prior to about 2006 if I had ever seen a Bond movie my answer would have been no. I had seen snippets here and there over the years, but never a full movie. I am not really sure I had seen a full scene from a Bond movie in fact.

Even though I had never actually seen any of the movies I knew the culture that is Bond. It is pretty hard to not know the Bond lore. I knew who M and Q and Moneypenny were. I knew the music when I heard it. I knew the great debate over who was the best Bond. I just knew it all.

I had simply never had a desire to see any of the movies. I can't explain why really. I mean I love movies in general, and I especially love action and spy flicks. It wasn't that a good deal of the movies were older, I love old movies. I just for some reason never actively went out and tried to watch the Bond films.

One year at an annual pool party a friend of mine throws, he had put the Bond movies on repeat on the TV inside as background noise. Toward the end of the party I wondered inside and caught the end of Goldfinger. It was the most of a Bond film I had ever seen.

I think it was at that same party that I finally saw my first full Bond movie. I might be mistaken, it could have been at some point not much later, but that isn't important really. I saw Die Another Day, with Pierce Brosnan as Bond. It was ok. I mean it wasn't terrible, but really it didn't sell me on the Bond series. After watching it I sort of shrugged and decided I really wasn't missing all that much.

And then they cast Daniel Craig as Bond in Casino Royale. I really like Daniel Craig. I also really was intrigued by the things I was hearing about this new reboot. My friends who have read the Bond books were excited because Bond was being taken back to being a grittier killing machine and less of a suave martini swilling playboy with fancy gadgets.

So I gave it a try when it came out on HBO, and I was hooked. I loved it. I loved Craig as Bond. I loved the movie. I loved everything about it. It was exactly what I was looking for out of an action and spy movie. This movie sold me on Bond.

I eagerly watched Quantum of Solace when it came out. It was everything I wanted in a direct sequel to Casino Royale. I was happy that it was an immediate sequel. I liked that it continued the story where we left off. I like that sort of thing. Craig still captivated me as Bond.

So when I saw Skyfall was coming out I got all excited. I wanted to see this movie so bad. I had heard it had a feel that was more of the 70's era Bond films which sounded really interesting to me. I have no real point of reference since I still have never seen one of those movies, but after watching the movie I can see where that correlation could be made.

Skyfall was a little less on the gritty hand to hand prowess and more of the lets shoot people. While I love watching a well choreographed fist fight, I am alright with people just getting shot at. The shootout scenes were well done, so you know this action junkie was satisfied.

I was very pleased to see the introduction of Q and Miss Moneypenny. I really enjoyed Q. He is a Q for the modern day. There was this pleasant level of snark and superiority to him that I found very endearing. He was a modern day geek spy. I loved it.

I also just in general really loved Bond in this movie. I mean in the last two he had some emotional issues that he dealt with, but this one was different. I liked watching him deal with some more internal issues and develop. It keeps him from being a two dimensional character that just pulls a trigger and shags hot women.

Ohh and can I just say that Javier Bardem was amazing. What an incredibly creepy crazy bad guy he made. I mean at one point I was squirming in my seat. He was just so brilliant and obsessed and insane. His bad guy made every other character shine. It was well written and brilliantly performed.

Add to all of that a wonderful directing job and fantastic music this movie really just hit all the right notes. Adelle's Skyfall is wonderful. It is so rich and earthy and so very Bond. It has that very classic Bond feel to it. Again I can see how people would liken it to the 70's Bond franchise.

I absolutely adored it, though the Husbeast couldn't manage to give it more than an "it's ok" as a review. I ribbed him that he didn't love it because I think Daniel Craig is hot, but he insisted that wasn't it. He reminded me that Craig isn't his first Bond, and much like you never forget your first Doctor, you never forget your first Bond. I totally understand that sentiment.

Still, even if Craig is not your Bond, he is a great Bond. If you have any love for Bond at all I highly recommend this movie. Hell if you like action and spy movies I highly recommend this movie.

Big brother

We are so very children of the 80's in this picture.

When I was younger it was sort of hit or miss whether I would tell you I liked my big brother or not. We are very close in age, only 18 months separating us, and that can cause issues. We were close but at the same time we were just an annoyance to one another. Still he is my brother and there is something to that that even annoyance can't break.






He has always been my protector. I think even when we were teenagers and he didn't like me or want me around he was still protecting me. After all I am his little sister and no one can hurt me but him. When we were very young though it was different. When we were very young he protected me very loudly and very fiercely.

My first day of kindergarten my mom told my brother that it was his job to keep me safe. He took this responsibility very seriously. I am told he carried my back pack for me and made sure I got to the right waiting spot in the cafeteria in the mornings. I am also told he insisted on walking with me to class which was a problem because he was supposed to be walking to his 1st grade class at that time. Mom had to make him back down after that.

That same year my mom learned that not only was he super protective of me, but I was incredibly fond of him. Kindergarten was only a half day affair, and I went in the mornings. I got home one day around lunch time and as my mom was helping me out of my coat and back pack in the front entry way I noticed something odd.

I could see out the huge windows that looked onto our back porch, and there was a little blonde boy playing outside. I did not recognize this little boy and it seemed very odd to me that a strange child would be playing on my back porch when both my brother and I were at school. So I asked my mom who the little boy was.

My mother, with a completely straight face, told me this was my new brother. She told me that I was always fighting with the old one so she traded him in for a new one that I might get along with better. Yes that is right my mom told me she traded my brother in for a new model.

I began to sob. I can remember being absolutely distraught over the thought of my brother being gone and this strange blonde kid replacing him. I was absolutely inconsolable and my mother just stood there and let me cry.

I kept insisting that I did not want a new brother. I wanted my brother back. Only my brother would do. My mom insisted it was too late, and I would have to deal with the new brother.

Eventually my grandmother came to my rescue. I don't really know how long my mom kept a straight face through this incident. I was too busy being distraught. There is nothing pretty about a distraught five year old. I do still remember how horrible and lost I felt though.

No matter what we have been through or how far apart we are he will always be my brother. He will always be the guy that explored our aunt's property with, the guy that spent the better part of a summer designing and building a trap in the park to get the neighborhood bully, the guy who terrified all the guys in school so I had no dating life as a teenager, the guy who made an extra trip to apologize for other peoples bad behavior at my wedding, the guy who was and is always there for me.

We may not see each other or even talk very often, but he is still my brother. I love him so very  much and would not trade him for another one ever. He is my brother, and he is the best big brother in the world.

Happy birthday Matty!

Breaking traditions

Last night I got a call from my boss down at faire to discuss the menu for Thanksgiving dinner. The faire is open on Black Friday which means we have to be there working. It just makes sense for us to do Thanksgiving there to save on the hassle of driving 4 hours on a holiday. Plus I really like these people.

We discussed the bird, the sides, the deserts, and all in all it sounded like a pleasant and typical Thanksgiving dinner. After I hung up with him I started thinking about it some more. It sounded like a fairly standard Thanksgiving dinner to me, but that doesn't mean it is traditional to other people.

In my family when I was young, Thanksgiving dinner was always the same. There was the turkey, there were mashed potatoes, there was giblet gravy, there was dressing that was not cooked inside the turkey, there was corn, and there were green beans. We also had the exact same rolls every year with butter and garlic salt. There was the obligatory can shaped lump of cranberry sauce and a basic relish tray. There were deviled eggs that never made it to dinner. There was also the fruit salad that took forever to make and no one ever ate.

There was never any deviation in the menu. Ever. My grandmother would never accept such an idea as maybe making yams or green bean casserole. That simply was not how we did things. We ate the same meal every year because it was tradition.

When my mom got married and we started having to split our holidays between my moms family and my dads family things began to change. I suddenly was thrown into two very different sets of traditions for all of the major holidays. The food always stuck out to me as so very foreign.

My dads family does things so very different than my moms. The biggest thing that stuck out to me was the turkey was not fresh out of the oven when we ate it. It had been cooked the day before and was already sliced and waiting when we got to it. I had never heard such a thing. I mean wasn't the point to eat the turkey right out of the oven and make a big deal out of the carving of the bird?

The sides were also just bizarre to me. There were candied yams, which I had never even seen before, all covered in marshmallows and pecans. There were buttered noodles of some kind. There was ambrosia salad which I had also never seen before nor heard of.

It was like I wasn't eating Thanksgiving dinner at all because it didn't include anything I was really expecting. Thanksgiving was about tradition to me, and that was anything but tradition. I was pretty miserable for the first few holidays we spent with my dads family because it was just too weird to me to not do things the way I was used to doing them.

It really wasn't until college when I started making my own Thanksgiving dinners that I realized that what we ate didn't mean nearly as much as the company of the day. The traditions are nice, but they are not what makes the day. I don't have to eat a turkey on Thanksgiving to make the day special.

I have now had my fair share of experimental Thanksgiving dinners. There was the year that the person making the turkey wrapped it in bacon. That was horribly disappointing. The bacon was limp, unappealing, and thrown out after the bird was cooked. The bird was not actually very moist. We couldn't baste it because of the bacon so it was pretty much flavorless. It also had none of that wonderful crispy skin that makes the turkey that much better.

At the same time though we one year had whole chickens that due to a broken oven came out as black rocks. I had sat with the oven door cracked to vent smoke the entire cooking time, basting the birds every minute or so. I think I probably used a pound of butter on each bird trying to keep them from burning. I was so very embarrassed to serve them. I was certain we would be going to Denny's for Thanksgiving dinner.

It turns out once we used the butt of the carving knife to crack the shell open, the bird inside was the most amazingly delicious thing we had ever eaten. It was so moist and so flavorful that it caused my guests to just chew in quiet bliss. I will never be able to repeat that meal despite being asked to try on a regular basis.

So really I have realized that my boss could have suggested just about anything for dinner next Thursday and I would have been pleased as punch by it. The fact is the food will be delicious as I know all of us that will be cooking it are excellent in the kitchen. The company will be wonderful because it is all people I love.

All in all it will be a good day where we will be fat, happy, and thankful together no matter what is served for dinner.

Observations from a Renaissance Faire

- Renn Faires are an excuse to take your shirt off. Male or female, I see more topless people than one would expect. Some of these people should keep their shirts on though.

- Renn Faires, much like Halloween, has become an excuse for women to dress in the sluttiest clothes they can find. You expect women in corsets, but the number of girls wearing costumes that you would find at a porn shop is a little disturbing.

- Renn Faires are an excuse to let your geek flag fly high. I can't even begin to identify a quarter of the cosplay that walks by me on a daily basis. I have no idea what half of these fandoms are. In one day I had the 10th and 11th Doctor, the Tardis in multiple forms, a dozen different animes, Assassins Creed, WoW, Warhammer, Storm Troopers, Starfleet officers, Xena, more Links than I could count, and enough Jack Sparrows to fill his delusions when he was in Davy Jones' Locker.

- Renn Faires are an excuse to act weird. You don't have to be in costume to just be ridiculous. Most of the crazy off the wall comments I hear are coming from people wearing jeans and t-shirts.

- Renn Faires are an excuse to flirt unabashedly with anyone and everyone. Inhibitions go right out the window, and suddenly everyone is a flirt regardless of things like age, gender, or social status.

- Renn Faires are an excuse to make inappropriate comments. This is another loss of inhibitions. In real life a soccer mom would never make a comment about my breasts. At faire I get at least one soccer mom a day tell me I have amazing or distracting cleavage.

- Renn Faires are an excuse to not be you for a short time. The number of people who create a character just to escape reality for a few hours is staggering. Escapism at its finest.

Brief birthday wishes

(I also wrote this on Saturday night after the internet stopped working for me, in hopes that I would get some connection on Sunday morning. Then things happened Sunday morning and checking for internet was the last thing on my mind. It isn't really much of anything, but it was something and important to me.)

Today is the husbeasts birthday. I am so incredibly thankful that he was born. He is the most wonderful person in the world and I love him more than anything. I don't think he will ever know how important he is to me.

Happy birthday to my wonderful husbeast! I love you!!

Watchful eye

(This post was actually written on Saturday night but before I could post it or even schedule it for posting the rather dodgy internet connection at faire gave out on me. I was a little annoyed by this as I am trying to do a thing here with the whole NaBloPoMo nonsense. I don't think anyone will hold it against me that my laptop has a bad relationship with the wireless at faire. I wrote this on Saturday and it is the intent that counts.)

I am a people watcher. I always have been. I really just enjoy sitting back in a quiet corner and watching people. I find it fascinating and really calming in a way.

I watch people and I study them and in my head I write stories about them. If I see a stranger in a store or the airport or in the car next to me in traffic it takes no time at all for my mind to begin to create stories for them. Who they are, what kind of life they lead, where they are going, and anything else my over active imagination can come up with.

Rarely does my brain come up with a boring scenario. These people in my mind always lead interesting lives, if not outright exciting lives. I know it probably isn't true. I know most likely their lives are nowhere near as exciting as I make them. It amuses me though to create these lives for these people. I sometimes wonder if they would like the lives I have given them.

I also have discovered that you can learn a lot by just sitting quietly in a corner. People say and do the most interesting things. You can discover a lot about a person just by watching them over a period of time. I think that may sound a little creepy, but it really isn't meant to be.

It isn't just what people say, it is how they actually behave. How they hold their drink, play with their jewelery, eat their food, pick at peeling paint, watch others, all tell me things about them. You can learn so much more by not talking and simply observing.

I have a friend who once told me that he was certain I knew everyone's secrets from years of quiet observation. He noted that he would never want to cross me because of this and then poured me another pina colada.

I wouldn't say that he was wrong, and I wouldn't say that he was right either. I do know some secrets but more precisely I know people more than they think I do. I have subtle insight into my friends that might surprise even them.

All in all I don't think it is a bad thing. I think more people would be amazed at what they could find if they simply sat back and quietly watched the world go by. You would be really surprised what you have been missing.

Accentuate the positive

Today is one of those days where I just want to crawl back in bed and call Mulligan. At the same time I am profoundly aware of how good I  have it considering none of the things that are making my day bad are anything really bad in the grand scheme of things.

Today the things I have to complain about are so minor that it almost makes me embarrassed to be upset over them. Facebook is not working for me today and is actually actively annoying the hell out of me. I keep getting nothing but the letter 'I' and 'F' in all of my Words With Friends games. My legs hurt so bad from my workout on Wednesday that I am having trouble going from standing to sitting and vice versa.

There are other things that are annoying me today but they are all equally trivial. I mean talk about first world problems. I have absolutely no room to complain.

So instead I am going to take a moment to focus on the good things of this day.

-It is a pay day today.

-After paying all of my bills due this pay check I had enough money to pay off a good sized debt and still have more than enough money to last me the next two weeks.

-I get to go to faire tonight.

-Minor crisis at work was averted.

-I have super tasty leftovers for lunch because the husbeast was smart enough to pack them up last night instead of leaving them out to spoil as I would have done because I fell asleep before I remembered to do it.

-I woke up to a cat on my chest giving me morning purrs and snuggles.

-I am apparently having a really good hair day despite thinking my curls looked flat.


There now. I feel better. 

Diametrically opposed

There is a saying that goes 'March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb'. The saying is meant to depict the extreme weather change that most people experience during the month of March. Moving from the harshness of winter into the gentle spring can be a little jarring and I think the saying is very apt.

I am of the opinion that November needs a saying as well, only it needs to represent the emotional roller coaster that this particular month represents. It starts off with tension, aggression, and people spewing vitriol left and right over elections, and ends with an outpouring of love and gratitude for Thanksgiving. Talk about polar opposites. 

Here is the thing, I don't talk about politics. If you go through all the archives of my blog you may find one post that is vaguely political in nature, but that is it. I just don't talk about them. Not with you, not with anyone. I will get up and walk out of a room if people start talking about them.

It is not that I don't have opinions, I do, and they are strong. That is the thing though. Anyone who has an opinion on politics has strong opinions. When we talk about them we get all worked up. Even in a friendly debate people get very charged. It can be stressful. I don't like that. So I avoid it.

Most people don't avoid it though, and it is sort of unavoidable come the start of November, especially in a year like this one where we are voting on the President of our country. Whether your guy one or lost you are going to have a strong reaction to it. Sadly many peoples reactions are very angry. Angry is probably wildly understating things, but we will go with that for now.

I get why. I really do. I understand why my mom is so upset, and she has very valid reasons, and I feel bad for her. Still she has refrained from posting or saying anything wildly inappropriate in her moment of distress. Of course my mom is an amazing woman full of composure and grace when it is called for. That is why she is awesome.

I think I got away from my point. Let me regroup.

So the beginning of November is fraught with intense emotions and a lot of people throwing temper tantrums like they were small children who didn't get a cookie or a whistle (that one was for you mom). Ugly things are said, feelings are hurt, and it is all around an un fun situation.

Then a few weeks pass and suddenly amidst a swarm of family and friends we find ourselves elbow deep in a turkey carcass feeling infinite thankfulness and love for the lives we lead and the things that we have. All of the anger is pushed away as we take the day to stop and think about all of the things that we are thankful and happy for despite any sort of strife or unpleasantness is in our lives.

There is all of this good will and happiness that fills us up at the end of this month that it makes it hard to believe that we started the month saying hateful irrational (or possibly rational) things. Perhaps we should stop now during the angry times to have a turkey sandwich and remember all of the good things in our lives a few weeks early.

November is a hell of a month. It comes in like a raging squall and goes out with calm waters. I am just holding on, keeping my  head down, and trying to ride out the storm for now.

My own worst enemy

There is this strange thing that happens in my world whenever I start a new faire season. It is this weird mental block that settles in on me that convinces me that I suddenly don't have time to do anything at all. Somehow my brain tells me that every second of my free time has suddenly vanished and I can no longer accomplish pretty much anything.

The thing is though, I know this is a lie. I know that realistically I can still get most everything I am putting off done. Yes I have lost access to my weekends. Those 48 hours are taken up by faire. I will get nothing productive around the house done. Also during the fall faire I lose my Friday nights to driving. Still there are four other nights in my week, so why is it I can't manage to do anything?

Mondays are hard because I effectively have faire hangover. I am tired from the weekend and pretty much don't want to do anything at all. By the time I drag myself home from work the only thing I really want to do is collapse on the couch and watch TV all night. Monday is grocery day though so I always have to stop at the store on the way home. Somehow by the time I put the groceries up I have convinced myself that this was enough of an accomplishment for the night that I can do nothing else.

Tuesday nights my game group meets. That pretty much makes the evening useless. I have people over from about 6:30 until 10. The thing is I get home at 5:20. That leaves almost an hour where I could do things like wash the dishes, or quickly vacuum the house, or start a load of laundry. There is a lot I could get done in that hour.

Wednesdays are this strange point in the week when I have no good excuse for being lazy. I am supposed to be heading to B's house for some junkyard gym time. Here lately I have been making the excuse that I am not supposed to go without the husbeast because he wants to go but since he doesn't get home until well after 6 we just can't go. I should be able to make dinner, clean  up the kitchen, vacuum, clean the bathroom, fold the laundry, or any other number of chores. Somehow though the only 'chore' I ever seem to manage is to catch up on the DVR.

Thursdays are faire prep days. I have to do the laundry and stuff for faire. So that is precisely one load of laundry which in reality takes about 30 minutes of my time including the folding and packing portion. Also I have been really bad lately and have been throwing the wash in before I go to bed, and then Friday morning throwing it in the dryer before I go to work, and then packing it Friday afternoon before we leave. So Thursdays end up being me watching TV and being thoroughly unproductive yet again.

So you see there, three whole evenings where I could be doing things. There are three evenings that I could spread out weekly chores like laundry, vacuuming, and general cleaning. There is more than enough time in every evening to cook dinner and tidy the kitchen. There is plenty of time in my schedule for me to work out.

My brain just doesn't agree. My brain somehow sees the loss of my lazy weekends as a huge issue. It tells me that I need to do as little as possible on those weeknights so that I can rest and relax. My brain says that watching TV is much more urgent than vacuuming up the dog and cat hair from the floor. Chores are a distant second in importance to my ass groove.

As I sit here at my desk, at my job, with nothing productive to do at work, I feel that my job is such a waste of productive time. Sure I am tired now but I am awake and it is daylight. I could totally be cleaning my bathroom, or vacuuming my floors, or doing the grocery shopping right now. Hell I could be at the gym working out. In reality though I know that I would probably just be sitting on my couch checking facebook and watching something on my DVR. 

I find this all a little disturbing and completely unacceptable. I guess in reality we are our own worse enemies. My greatest accomplishment really is just getting my ass off of my couch and doing something.

Anything.
 

It's a mystery

I work in an office that is in a complex of buildings. I think there are five or six buildings in total across the campus. Our main building is a little up the hill from us, and then there is the building I am in, and the building next door has the deli in it. Then there is the other building that runs parallel to my building and the deli building. This building is the subject of my post.

This building is mysterious.

How can an office building be mysterious you might be asking yourself. Well let me tell you it is.

For one thing I am not really sure anyone works in the building. They have a whole slew of parking spots that are marked as reserved and no one ever parks there. In the nearly five years I have worked here the only people I ever see going in or out of the building is the campus security or workmen that are doing construction on the inside. I think it has been remodeled a dozen times now.

So it is this big building that is occupied but no one is ever there. Perhaps it is because of constant shoddy construction. Perhaps it is actually occupied by a company that trains construction crews. Perhaps it is a company that only works at night. These are all possible scenarios.

Or perhaps it is a company that is secretly manufacturing toxic chemicals in an underground laboratory.

Did I lose you there? Let me explain.

A couple of years ago we all became aware that something was amiss in this building as there was one morning a large number of hazmat vehicles surrounding the building. Large tanker trucks were running hoses into the building and men in plastic suits were running around frantically. I believe we were sent an email telling us to keep clear of the workmen.

You can imagine how confused we all were since we don't work in an area where one would expect to see a hazmat team. These are standard office buildings not some sort of production plant. I mean I think some of my coworkers lunches classify as hazardous materials, but this was ridiculous.

A few days after this happened I was walking to the deli for lunch. The walkway runs beside the mystery building. There is also a little park like strip of grass and trees down in a lower area between the buildings. Or at least it used to be park like.

As I walked by I could not help but notice all of the grass had turned brown and was dead as were all of the trees. There were large tunnel like tubes crisscrossing the ground going into the tank trucks. It really was a chemical spill of some sort.

Of course we never heard what happened. Nothing in the news about some sort of chemical spill or problem. No signs of who occupied the building or what they had done wrong. No health warnings to us either. Just a quick massive cleanup.

After a few years the grass has finally grown back, and the trees are looking healthier, though most are still yellow and not green yet. There still is no sign of anyone in the building aside from the occasional construction crew.  It still remains a mystery.

I know I could probably use Google and figure it out, but I sort of like it being a mystery. I like being able to speculate about what goes on over there. I prefer to think that I work next door to some sort of secret evil villain's research installation.

What? Like you wouldn't think that was cool.

The lights are on but nobody is home

Its one of those post faire Mondays where my brain is not really working all that great. I am sitting here in a fog trying not to fall asleep at my desk. Focusing on anything is pretty much right out the window. I have a million things I should be doing but am dutifully ignoring. Honestly right now I am proud that I managed to make a grocery list and take my turn at Words With Friends.

I had something I wanted to blog about today, but the idea is lost somewhere in the ether. I really do need to start jotting these things down. I have a smart phone and at least two notebooks in my purse so I should be able to make notes even when I am out. Somehow though note taking eludes me.

I am certain I will remember at some point and then brilliance will happen in this space, but today is not that day. I will probably sit up in bed one night and shout out the idea as it suddenly slams into me. I did something like that last night as I remembered the name of a guy who used to tend bar at the bar where the husbeast and my best friend worked in college.

He used to sing (badly) Tiny Dancer while he was cleaning up at the end of the night. I always forget his name.  A couple of weeks ago the husbeast and I were talking about that bar, and this guy came up but neither of us could remember his name.

Last night on the drive home Tiny Dancer came on and suddenly his name was there. I shouted out suddenly "Rusty!". The husbeast nodded sagely knowing this was the right name. Everyone else in the sar was just confused by my sudden outburst.

This story had a point, but I have forgotten what it is.

Did I mention I was in a fog?

Anyways, come back tomorrow and I promise there will be something here. I don't promise it will be more coherent or thought provoking or anything really. All I promise is something. It is a mystery. It is exciting. It is a thing.

Sunday mornings

Sunday mornings are some of my favorites. There is a quiet that is only found on Sunday mornings. There is a peace that is only found there.

Saturdays are decadent. For most of the world a Saturday is the first day off they have had all week. There has been great anticipation of the Saturday. People languish in the laziness of a Saturday. They sleep in well past that which they should. They lay about much longer than they should. They are simply decadent in their nothingness.

Saturday mornings are known for sugary cereals and cartoons. Saturday mornings are for hangovers. Saturday mornings are an event.

Sundays though are unassuming. Sunday mornings are mornings of sleeping just enough. Sunday mornings are for family breakfasts. They are made for snuggles under the covers. They are made for warm drinks and reading a book.

There is no stress or excitement of the weekend. There is only cherishing the last peaceful moments of the weekend before the week begins all over again. The morning is for just being before the business of the day gets under way.

I love Sunday mornings.

And they all fall down

I know most people have never experienced vertigo in their lives. I know most people who have experienced the effect have been drunk when it happened and therefore might have missed out on some of the finer points of the condition. I know that most people don't think of vertigo as one of those things that happens on a normal day to day basis.

I am not normal people.

Off and on in my life I have experienced bouts of vertigo. I will admit a few of them have been while inebriated. No I am not afraid to say that knowing my mother will read this, she was there for at least one of those nights. Mostly though my vertigo is experienced in conjunction with a moving vehicle.

Yes that is right I get motion sick. I can get motion sick in an office chair, and have. Repeatedly. My motion sickness is probably a topic my mother could lament to you all about for days and days. Traveling with me as a kid was a challenge to say the least.

Sometimes though I experience bouts of vertigo when there is no motion involved or alcohol for that matter. Not even movies or video games that trigger my vertigo are involved. Sometimes the world just moves on its own.

Vertigo is a very bizarre feeling. It is this strange disorienting sensation that the world is moving around you while you are standing still. It is this strange whooshing motion around your head. It is this weird sensation that the ground is dropping out from under your feet when you are not moving. It makes you sick to the stomach and sort of want to fall on your face.

I have done both of those things.

Today was one of those days. There I was at the jewelery counter in our shop at faire. I am in my corset and skirts, I have on my cute elf like hat, I am all ready to attack the day, when I realize if I m ove my head to fast I am making a desperate grab for the counter so as not to fall over. I have vertigo.

I ended up sitting very still in front of the register for most of the day while I attempted to acclimate to whatever was causing the condition. I wondered if being sick had damaged my ears, but I had no pain or hearing problems. I wondered if maybe there was some sort of pressure system moving in with the rain clouds, but it wasn't that big of a storm. I just couldn't figure out what it was.

Then it truck me. The feeling only hit me when I moved my head to fast, therefore it was linked to my vision. Last week when I was wretchedly ill, and spending hours with my head in the toilet, I managed to damage my left eye.

Wow going back and reading that it sounds bad. Let me explain, and this is totally TMI. I threw up so hard that aside from bruising all of my ribs, I burst a few blood vessels in my left eye and could swear I tore my tear duct. I don't know if one can tear a tear duct, but the feeling was one of tearing and the area effected was my tear duct. There was a throbbing headache over my eye for a few days, and any time my eye watered it felt like someone had poured sunscreen in the duct. Not fun.

Now I noticed on Wednesday after I was able to pull my head out of the toilet and curl up on the couch that I could not watch TV or get online as it gave  me vertigo. By late Wednesday night I seemed to have adjusted enough to watch things move. I really didn't do much of getting up and moving the next two days, and I certainly was going nowhere fast.

Today was the first day I had been up and moving since the event. Basically my left eye was not tracking as quickly as my right eye and it was causing a minute delay in my vision. This in the end caused me to have vertigo most of the day.

By days end my eye seems to have finally begun to compensate or adjust or something, as I can now move around without fearing falling over or slamming into a wall.

It really is the small things.