Karan-a-go-go

Wow.  I’m feeling so blue that I think my  doldrums deserve a post.  I mean… I’m not whining and complaining or wanting to put something on Facebook so that people can alternately give me ((((((hugs)))))) or tell me that I should be practicing gratitude or whatever it is people tell people who post maudlin status updates.  I just feel melancholy, like I can’t wait to go home and be with my kids and my boyfriend and my dog and even my annoying (but very cute) cat.  

I miss my friend Fred.  He was here for over a week and it was great- plus, we actually accomplished something and that felt awesome.  Now he’s headed back to sunny Florida which sounds great except that he lives in the most depressing city ever.  According to some bullshit item in Men’s Health. I don’t even see how that’s possible, Men’s Health.  I mean, the climate is mild, the beaches are beautiful…  and you rank Lincoln, NE as one of the least sad cities?!  I was in Lincoln, Nebraska for 48 hours once and I wanted to curl up in my hotel bathtub with a shotgun.

But, I digress.

I just miss Fred.  I wish my sister would fall in love with him and then they’d get married so that Fred could come to the family reunion every year.  Also, Christmas- he’d be really good at the gift exchange.

Last night, he and I presented our written, but still to be filmed, web show Bad Reception for consideration at the Arts Council’s Square Meal fundraiser.  Square Meal is a really cool mini-grant program that gets the community directly involved in funding the arts.  Check out the link if you get a chance.

Our presentation went really well and we got words of encouragement from a local filmmaker and offers of help, but we lost the mini-grant to a play about domestic violence called Battered, Not Broken.  Honestly (and objectively) their presentation was not as organized or informative, but the subject matter and speakers were emotionally compelling.  I hope the play does well and I also hope that Fred and I will be brave enough to try our presentation again.  It was a really awesome experience.

The only other thing I have going on today is that I’m starving for lunch, but don’t want to go get it.  I don’t even want to walk downstairs to pick up something that’s delivered. I think I’ll post that on Facebook and hope that someone submits it to whitewhine.com.

xo,

a go go

P.S.  If a certain writer/musician/video impresario/journalist is reading this, I hope he will feel compelled to check his Facebook messages and make sure he’s responded to all of them because perhaps he didn’t see the one where I said IN LOUD WORDS, “CALL ME!”

I pay a million dollars for this website and I neglect the hell out of it.  Whassup wit dat?

Okay, actually, I don’t pay a million.  I pay, like, eighty bucks for the domain name per year.  But, still.  Why pay that if I’m not going to live here, right? 

So, I need to step it up a bit.  I know I’ve said that before, but this time I really, really mean it.  And, I totally DO intend to sing still.  I just need some time to lose a few pounds or else I will have to sew several flags together in order to cover my entire body.

In other news, my friend Fred is visiting from Florida.  I’m super happy about that because he is actually one of my best friends and I don’t often see him in real life.  Last night, I tried to get a big group of in-town friends together for dinner at Pies n’ Pints so that we could talk about art and politics and philosophy- I was thinking Capitol Street as the Left Bank.  It ended up that only a few friends could make it, but the ones that did really brought their A game in terms of convo. 

When we got home, we watched Martha Marcy May Marlene which I thought was pretty good until I realized that I kept waiting for the plot to develop, or thicken, or do anything.  Actually, at the beginning of this rehash of last night’s events, I had forgotten that we even watched the movie, so overshadowed was it by what we watched afterward- the Wild Wonderful Whites of West Virginia. 

Oh.  My.  God.

I don’t even know what to say about it.  Go.  Watch it.  See for yourself.

Tonight, West Virginia (which I guess some guy at ESPN thinks is still part of Virginia) is playing in the Orange Bowl.  The first thing I want to say about this is that I’m happy there’s a bowl that still has a normal name.  And, secondly, I am super excited to watch the game at home with my guy and my babies.  Which is to say that I’m super excited to lie on the couch and face in the general direction of the TV while I doze off.

xo,
a go go

If you’re out there reading, thanks for that.  I miss my little blog when I don’t write in (on?) it.

How the hell am I supposed to become more spiritual when no one will do what I want them to???!

JK.  I know that the world is not going to conform to my desires, which is most definitely a good thing.  But, it does seem like the minute I start asking for some kind of help from a higher power, the people (ahem… very small people who are closely related to me) in my life decide to behave as badly as they can.  I wonder if it’s just a coincidence.  Or, are there, in fact, no coincidences?

Anyway, I’m exhausted.  I spent the day running kids to and fro and getting very little appreciation- or respect, for that matter- in return.  I’ll still say a little prayer of thanks tonight for the little ingrates and hope that things will be a little better tomorrow. 

I at least got my little girl’s bedroom cleaned out and am ready to start on step two of making it cool: window treatments and furniture rearranging.

It was a beautiful day today, too.  So, there’s that…

It’s the weekend- yay!  I am happy to not have much of anything planned except for more work around the house.  I love the thought of getting there tonight and not leaving until Sunday; although, really that’s not what’s going to happen on account of my kids and their crazy social schedule. 

FOUR birthday parties this weekend!  FOUR! 

Anyway, for me that just means a lot of dropping off and picking up; hopefully, in between that I can get some stuff done.  My plan includes totally emptying my daughter’s room and then returning much less stuff to it and in a different layout.  I’ve got the before pics, so look for a “before and after” post next week.

The only other part of my plan involves some required reading, a little writing, and maybe cooking some soup on Sunday. 

Have a great weekend, everyanyone!

  I don’t have a lot to say, but I’m trying to get back to regular posting, so I thought I’d just check in. 

Well, I do have something: I’m on the wagon.  Off the sauce.  I’ve been this way now for a WHOLE week and two days.  I feel pretty good, except that I’ve totally let myself eat way too much of the kids’ Halloween candy.  Sort of, “well, my body wants the sugar it would naturally take in via a few glasses of red zin, soooo… why not eat seven of these Almond Joys?”

Anyway, I hope to curb sugar next; fun size M&Ms don’t have quite the same draw for me as dark, craft beer or champagne, so hopefully all will go smoothly.

In other news, I am contemplating a new blog based on my 41st year (or, really, I guess it’s my 42nd year, right?) of life.  I am on a serious search for genuine health and happiness and, to that end, I’m trying to narrow my focus to the few things that I really want to do well: getting sober and fit (physically, spiritually, mentally); rearing well-adjusted and happy children; maintaining positive relationships; and WRITING.  All that should take up most, if not all, of my time.  (Although, I’d like to do some of that while traveling, so count that, too: travel.)

I’m thinking of a one year blog.  Operation 41.  Project 41.  Something like that. Fred suggested Area 41, which I thought was funny, but not what I want.  Anyone else have any suggestions?

So, the thing about this blog is this: it’s really an online diary.  I don’t think that’s necessarily what I intended it to be when I started it, but I have a tendency- even in my more thematic Mommyhood blog- to write in a confessional style.  I write what I know and what I know best is me and how my brain works.  I could just as easily be spilling all of my secrets to you at a cocktail party or a PTO meeting as on this blog, and in return, I’d want to know all about you- your thoughts, your feelings, your fears, and what makes you happy.

I’ve come to accept this about myself, this openness;  I think it comes from being a weird combination of  intensely introspective and extremely extroverted.  Being this way helps me know others on a deeper level (if they’ll let me), helps me better understand myself, and- frankly- makes my life a little more interesting than if I were to suffer a bunch of bullshit small talk.  Overall, I’ll take it.

There is a problem with this kind of candor, though: it renders me more vulnerable to criticism than I might be if I were close-mouthed.  Because I am always trying to sort things out, or get to the truth of something, I can end up sounding a bit neurotic.  Which works if you’re Woody Allen, but maybe not so much for Jane Q. Public. 

For instance, I heard (second-hand) recently  that someone attributed my relationship woes to my being “insecure”.  While I don’t think this was intended as an insult, I was nevertheless taken aback.  I mean, it’s true that I have insecurities (and I’ll go so far as to say I have more than my fair shair), but who among us doesn’t?  Because I am more likely to share my doubts and fears with others, in an effort to connect or to learn something from someone else- or even just to vent- I’m afraid I’ve given people an incomplete picture of myself. 

In reality, I’m a warm, funny, smart, flawed, and strong person who- despite sometimes being full of fear- has managed to do some pretty fearless and amazing things.  I am constantly trying to create my best possible life and, though I sometimes feel like giving up or opting for the devil I know, I keep on trying to achieve my goals. I have a keen intuition that’s perhaps been slightly damaged by my occasional insistence on IGNORING it.  And, underneath it all, I am basically an optimist who is able to dream big and see the all the possibilites out there for me and, inasmuch as I can, for those I hold dear to me!

And, so, while I sometimes (maybe often) feel insecure, I think attributing my relationship troubles to the fact that I am insecure is inaccurate, or at least just a portion of the whole story. (Also, it bears noting that I tend to be more insecure when I have been lied to or mislead, whether purposely or not- I think that’s natural.)  As I age, I can see that I likely bring more baggage into a relationship than I would have, say, at 20.  But, I also bring more insight and I am more likely to call bullshit when someone tries to make me responsible for problems that are not mine.  I’m more than willing to be honest about what I need to work on; I don’t need to take on more than that. 

Which, I guess, brings me back to my orignal point: when one is very open, she needs to be wary of how she is perceived, overall.  After all, maybe appearance really is everything, but- if so- I hate it.  I want to get down to the truth and mostly the truth isn’t so superficial.  Right?

Eh… when I started writing this, I had a clear idea of what I wanted to say.  Now that I’ve gotten this far, I see that I’m starting to ramble.  I think that means I’m operating partially out of hurt feelings and defensiveness.  Which doesn’t mean that what I’ve written is not true, just that… like almost everything else, it is only part of the story.

Ah, well… blah, blah, blog. 

Have a good one, everybody!

I don’t want to do this, but I think I might have to: that is, blog using bullets.  I can’t help it, I’m stuck and need… to… pull… myself… up… out… of… this……. RUT!

To that end, I:

• Have decided not to pursue roller derby career; see more in the Mommyhood tomorrow.
• Am 41.
• Loved Moneyball.
• Am trying to attain sobriety.
• Also, slenderness. (Those are related, but only incidentally.)
• Can’t seem to form coherent sentences, yet am compelled to try.
• Went to Florida.
• Sort of wanted to move there.
• Am practicing gratitude more.
• Want to write every day.
• Am still alive.  And 41.  Yay!

Ah, so we come to this then- it’s sadness that makes me blog.  Or, at least, it seems to be sadness that brings me back to the blog once I’ve been away for a while.  And, so here I am, again.

The slow, sad end of my relationship has finally (hopefully) reached its nadir and I don’t know what to do with myself.  I muddled through the weekend, cheered slightly by a visit from my mom and a day with my best friend.  I was constantly on the verge of crying, but I was mostly able to stave it off.  Now, it’s Monday at 3:50 pm and… well, nothing’s going on to distract me from thinking about how he didn’t call, didn’t email, didn’t care.

Eh.  As I said on the Facebooks, I hate sadness.

I’ve turned my back on you, little blog. 

I miss you.

I'm too sexy for my socks, too sexy for my socks, so sexy...

I guess I’ve almost totally dropped the ball, blog-wise.  I think I’ve left a million little threads out there, hanging.  The singing, the big reveal of my new hobby, the boyfriend… I’m the master of starting to write about things and then quitting midway.  Or, actually maybe it’s not just the “writing” that starts and stops abruptly- it’s also the doing.

I still have to figure out the specs for the singing.  My friend, D. is going to record it, but he’s been super-busy until just this week.  Also, I still need to get a flag.  And some back-up musicians.  It may take a bit longer to get it together, but it’ll be brilliant when it all comes together!

The other thing I’ve been doing, that I alluded to a couple of weeks ago, is- of course- roller derby.  I’m becoming a roller girl!  I love it so much, but am afraid of it at the same time.  Not because of injury, although even as I type this I have a huge bruise on my inner thigh.  Rather, I think I might be afraid of anything that makes me feel as independent as roller derby makes me feel.  I know that doesn’t make a whole lot of sense; I’ll post more about it just as soon as I figure out what I mean by it.  Anyway, I missed the skills test last night, which means I can’t be official until the beginning of August.  I’m pretty sad about it, actually.  I should’ve gone.

As for the boyfriend… well, we didn’t end up breaking up, after all.  And that’s all I have to say about that.