I got distracted.
more than a little, but usually it's the posting that distracts me.
online banking or looking up song lyrics (The Cult's "Rise" is even better than I thought)
tonight I was distracted by taking a survey for blogger,
then by my investigation of
and attempt at
seems sprint is having downtime, so I'll have to wait.
mostly...I'm trying to not think scary thoughts.
just watched a scary movie with hubby--
right up until the second he had to leave for a midnight install.
(yes, they pay him enough to do that sort of thing.)
see, he installs enterprise storage and sometimes his customers need to actually schedule downtime for him to do his thing.
and since they are revenue-driven companies (are there any other kind??),
they choose saturday, midnight.
he knew about it ahead of time, but it still totally fucked up our date.
we needed a good date, too.
we shopped for fixtures for the new part of the house (my idea),
and he was crabby from sleeping all afternoon while somehow still consuming far too many mini reese's pb cups.
(many mini--you know they sound alike when said fast, don't deny it!)
and then we went downtown for dinner--
even though his grumpiness made him resist the idea at first.
the eveing was...
filled with too many trains of thought racing past each other on parallel tracks.
his words lulling me, my words closing him up--absently, not coldly.
his work is too complex for me,
like chewing tough meat, my brain aches from the sound of "connectivity issues" and "redundancy";
it is new enough to him still that he must vocalize to learn better, so I listen--
gladly, I listen.
but it's not the same as conversation.
I hope he doesn't read this...
I love him so much, you know.
I don't talk about that here, because it's too private, too intimate, too real.
we saw a woman, my age probably, riding a Harley tonight.
I felt a surge--
he agreed that I should get one, not him.
he hates them.
and I will.
I don't fucking belong in Utah, though.
jesus christ, I don't.
sure, I'm happy here.
but only because I'm happy.
but it's like trying to wear your shoes backwards.
...you'd have to be retarded to try it, right?
this isn't my world and I don't know how to teach my kids to survive in it.
bah, who am I kidding???
they'll be fine.
as long as I hold on, and ignore the wrongness of this place as hard as I can.
what a whiner I am, right?
this isn't even a city, but I feel so crowded, so jostled, so agoraphobic. (however you spell that.)
I want solitude.
chilly mornings with dried leaves and a mist rolling across the lake.
wool sweaters and ice skating ponds.
more reasons to complain, but less desire to.
and have I mentioned lately that I'm scared shitless about all the changes that will be diving head first into my quiet, peaceful life in less than 2 weeks?????
yes, yes I have.
if you could all just tell me one more time that everything will be fine...?
that would be greeaaaat.
off to REAL school!!!!!
fuckity fucking shit, that scares me!
not really...just...getting it all out.
they're sooo little!!!
how in the WORLD is it possible that they're going to be let out into the big bad world?
should I take a deep breath?
maybe a good cry, or--
a SHOPPING TRIP!!
ah, I knew there had to be a silver lining here:
for them and for me,
though I'll go alone (praise jesus).
and I'll get that brown corduroy blazer, after all.
and some nice, respectable jeans.
yes, that means tight in all the right places.
dinner was marvelous.
we ate at a restaurant that is not only NOT a (goddamn motherfucking) chain,
but it has been around for almost 100 years.
it's really beautiful inside, and there was a harpist playing for the evening.
the fish was soooo good, and the dessert even better.
it felt good to be in the city, rather than the suburbs-which-feel-like-a-city-to-me.
we couldn't go to a movie because hubby had to work.
we couldn't go to the comedy club, because " " " "
we were both too sleepy anyway, but we couldn't go to the bar for the same reason.
but at least his response to my awed, "look how beautiful the sky is!" was "Nice smog."
not much of a poet...
but I know that he would be, for me.
everything he has learned about life, or how to live, he has learned by his own observations, and taught to himself.
...which is how I can take partial credit for his greatness at husbandry.
yes, that was a double entendre.
next semester, French class.
I could probably study up and test out of it, since I already learned once all the things they are going to teach me.
but I probably won't.
am I done yet?
I don't know...
are the boogie men gone?
I have a new book to read.
books keep away the shadows of stupid scary movies.
(they're not stupid, I am...for watching them!)
a snack, possibly.
and a book.
and I feel much better now...
thanks for listening.