Thursday, May 27, 2010

Through the rabbit hole, I fell...

And here I stand.
In my own Wonder(ful) Land.
My feet are propped on the sewing machine under my desk, and I can glance over my right shoulder to the tall, cool drink a' water I am blessed to be married to.
His eyes twinkle and his face just makes me happy.
Just seeing his face, smiling at me?
Melts any other mood away from me like a torch to a film of frost on a fall morning.
I can't stop stealing glances, actually.
What euphoria, what dreamy bliss I feel when I am reminded that my soul is entwined with his and that he loves me the way that I craved to be loved...and that I love him back with all the force that was welling up inside me for so many years.

This is why I don't blog much anymore......
what a sap!
What a cheese ball!
What a silly, swoony girl.

Also, I've been guzzling sweet tea all day and I'm afraid I mayn't be able to sleep tonight.

A sweet southern girl taught me The Way to make it and I gotta say.....
I'm impressed.
It is fabulously delicious.
Lip-smackingly delicious.
And it might be constipating me.
But whatevs.
I could use a bit of that, for a change.
(You do NOT want to know. Trust me.)

In a few weeks my little (giantly tall and very nearly 10) boys will be heading to Utard for the bulk of the summer!
I am terrified, yet.....ahem...breathlessly excited.
Not that I really feel like I need one, but...ya know...the idea of being OFF DUTY is quite tantalizing.
Plus, it's looking like I'll be escorting them out there and spending a week in the Promised Land.
Will be cool.
A friend's first baby will have just been born; I will make time for Moab this time; and I will soak up the awesomeness of my brothers and their families.
And maybe I can hack into the HR department where my husband works and give him an extra week of vacation time so he can come with me this time...sniff-sniff...

My career aspirations are all over the chart and stalled out, as usual.
I wish there was therapy for THAT.

Please universe, show me the way.
I just want to know where I belong.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Feels like summer, summertime...

But we still have a few weeks of school left.
Sooooo hot today and yesterday.
With a few great friends from growing up.
Lots of chatting and laughing.
It made me so happy.
It made me want to do that every week.
It was beautiful there...
and I clocked it; only 11 minutes from my house.
And while we were there,
The Love texted to say he stumbled upon a writing opportunity for me.
That man is my lucky charm.

Then home to gather children and prep dinner and off to a neverending baseball game.
I am so sleepy from the sun and warmth....
it was a good day.

So hot.
And so hungry before dinner that now dinner sits angrily in my belly.
Shouting up at me for making it wait so long.
Sorry, egg rolls.
You know I love making you almost as much as I love eating you...
it was out of my hands...the innings crawled by as the sun refused to set, until finally they both crashed to the close at once.

Maine is not for sissies.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

I like to write because...

It makes me feel alive.
It makes me feel sexy and vital and REAL.
It makes me feel edgy and like I'm outside the rest of society--
and I like it there.
It is sometimes cold and dark, with distant stars less distant, because I am cradled by the arms of outer space.
it is sizzling hot, so that my feet cannot land long in one place, and I move through the bed of coals that I chose with the delight of a child over discovering Willy Wonka's fabulous factory.
What I can't stand is when it feels like breathing beige and drinking unflavored gelatin.
But really?
What have I written that was gooood?
Besides all my thoughts on writing or life or whatever.
I have no reason to believe I can write a book or a screenplay that will be worth anyone's time.
I still plan to.
(insert evil grin)

Once upon a time....
there was a girl
who thought her whole destiny rested in her ability to spin words
but really?
She has dishes to wash and kids to feed (so she can get them out the door on time for their baseball game)
she has to sit on a dock and smile and make small talk and hope that some of these darling people want to buy tickets to go for a 2 hour sail on an exquisite wooden schooner in the breathtakingly beautiful bay.
And she worries all the time about how she doesn't feel well enough to exercise and it's making her fatter and fatter and fatter and she still loves to bake and it's making her fatter and fatter and fatter and if it doesn't stop soon she will weigh as much as her husband and then she feels so sick that she doesn't want to eat and she hopes that will be enough to make her lose some weight, but really she has lost hope because apparently she has no control over whether or not she loses weight because in reality she has spent periods of several months at a time exercising fairly vigorously and changing her eating habits and only gained more weight and her doctor says it's because her intestines aren't doing their job but that just seems like a sick joke because if she has an intestinal disorder of some kind SHOULDN'T THAT MAKE HER LOSE WEIGHT, FOR CHRIST'S FUCKLESS SAKE?????????????????????????

Riting is gud.
Let me tap back into my Malone-y/Bukowski-y vein o' endless writing that feels like it matters even if it doesn't.
Misery can't be the only thing that makes me creative.