What I forgot to say

The moment has past, and sure enough I've remembered what I was going to say last night. What I meant to ask...

I think if the wind had been at my back, if it had been 5 degrees warmer and a hour earlier I might have remembered. If I had remembered could I have made it better? Clearer?

Inward, again.

later still

Friday I found myself in many places but I was at my greatest peace at the Morton Arboretum. Somewhere between the blue heron's landing, perch and flight I realized I was exactly where I was supposed to be.

Late images

That's right image(s)! It seems the blogger gods are working against me. However, yesterday I wasn't able to post a single picture so I'll be appreciative today. This is my favorite anyways. I will try to post the others later.

I'm no longer young

The definition of a good toss is no longer riding roller coasters. The last time I attended Great America I thought it a good time. However, this weekend was not. With 4 hours of sleep and a hangover I earned, I rode the Superman ride and the Batman. Two super heroes later I felt common, queasy and annoyed. As G put it, "I just don't enjoy getting thrown around like that anymore." We felt a bit sad about it and recognized that our next visit might be with our siblings' unborn brats or worse...our own.

red lines, chalk lines and blood lines

Some mornings feel like a million bucks while others feel as if a million years had raked me over with vengeance. Today, was a confusing blend of the two that aided in "The Balance".

I've been writing with this red pencil all morning. I haven't a clue how it ended up on my desk. Those are not my teeth marks. I gave it up and it is currently residing behind the new guy's ear. He doesn't seem to care that it has been in someone's mouth. I think that would make a great Dilbert cartoon.

If you'd like to comment please email me. If you know me you know my address. Note to others: Do your lame advertising on your own time. I do not wish to advertise your Chevy, play online poker nor rent adult videos from you.

pushing the past

Faced with a couple of disappointments I went home for lunch and watched an episode of The Bill Cosby Show. In this episode, Theo had the house to himself and threw a party. What was intend to be a party of 6 turned into 200.

I don't know why, but that made me feel better and I returned to work. My fascination with old sitcoms is a bit nutty. I'm comfortable watching what I know. There is a story that was relevant when I was a kid and remains comical today. I don't watch much TV. I don't care for the reality shows but I love an episode of Fresh Prince, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Mr. Ed, M*A*S*H...anything but FullHouse. The only thing good about Full House is that we didn't yet know there were two Olson girls.

What was seen, I paid for

The 'ol bait and switch was in action Saturday afternoon. G and I were out enjoying the pleasures of the mall when we found a flier advertising psychic services for $15. A call was placed and 15 minutes later we were rushed in and then out. My session lasted long enough for G to run across the street to redeem cash from the ATM. Cost of service was $25 each.

If you must know...according to her I have a dark cloud above me and for $95 she will meditate over my full name between midnight and 6am. "I guarantee my work," she added.

The specifics. I will-

live a long life
move soon
change jobs soon
go to court (the ruling will be in my favor)
and...my ex thinks about me a lot and wants me back..."or, wait...do you have a boyfriend?" she nervously asked.

I foresee a busy six months. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to prepare for court.

Philanthropants

yesterday my pants went golfing while I drank and mingled with the office people on an over manicured lawn. It was my first time golfing. I did 9 holes (in three hours) and shot a 42. They tell me that ain't too shabby.

I won a $25 gift certificate to Best Buy for being my clumsy self. I thought I could be fancy and pick my ball off the ground from the moving cart. Some things happen in slow motion upstairs while the body moves fast, this was no exception. The result was a cartwheel out of the cart with an excellent finish, I recovered the ball. Units of alcohol involved: 1.5.

Overall units of alcohol consumed: 5? I used to play Oregon Trials at the public library. I'd choose my destiny (I was always the Banker) and load my wagon with things an eight year old thought was necessary for wild west living. Usually, I'd loose an axle, some gear and a few relatives. Occasionally, I succumbed to illness. These illnesses popped up on the screen causally and I had no idea what they were. Consumption, in my mind, I had died because of alcoholism. I vowed on my next play I'd put down the fire water and stay healthy.

I went to yoga class after a full day of fun. Halfway through the class I felt hungover. I fell asleep on my mat and the instructor had to wake me up.

text

Disclaimer: my internet is down. I've found two computers to work from but one allows me to only enter text while the other, being my work computer, lends no privacy. So, please excuse any double postings.

Friday was Ara day. To see a friend off we got a manicure and a pedicure and enjoyed lunch together. She keeps saying "I'm leaving," some people will use any excuse to be pampered (xo). If that wasn't enough indulgence, I met another friend for wine and a belly dancing show in Andersonville. The music and dancing was intoxicating. There is something about particular drum beats that calls for movement of the feet, hips and chest. The owner of the establishment was also the musician. He was tall, burly and scary looking. It took some coaxing to believe that such music could come from him.

Saturday I returned to the Wolfroad prairie and walked the trails on my own. I remember saying a couple of months ago that, "this will be the week of barbecue sauce," and nothing every came of it. However, this was the week of Monarch butterflies. I lost count of them while they flirted with my camera.

Sunday was Daisy Day. She started her incessant meowing again. I've tried holding her, combing her, fresh food, water and scolding. I wish she could tell me what is wrong so that I could tell her "that's life" or "if you're bored I've got a few things on my list YOU could do".

Monday we had a couple of new people start in the office. Firstly, we are a strange group which made welcoming them into clown family without getting strange looks difficult. A co-worker told me a story at lunch that made me laugh until I cried. I heard someone defend my behavior to the new people. First impressions are not my forte.

Yoga started Last night. That makes twice a week now.

Text Coming

Corporate tiara

Armed with tiny green stickers I assumed an administrative position and was invited to the "War Room" this week. The 8th floor.

When I volunteered to help the hurricane victims I thought a large corporation would engage my soul and set me to organizing a food drive. I know...how silly of me. Instead I was placed in front of a map and was set to the task of marking our realestate that had been destroyed by the storm but as of recently been reopened.

Corporate greed? Yes. However, while in the War Room I heard one of our top people take a phone call from an employee. The employee was calling because he'd left work to be with his family in New Orleans. Upon arriving he realized he didn't have enough resources to help his mother and father. He was calling for money. He didn't call the bank, he called a name that when viewed on an organizational chart, was at the top. The top man finished the call. He was neither stunned nor emotional. Instead, he picked up the phone and arranged a loan using cold sterile words. The employee's financial problem was resolved within 30 minutes of placing a call to the top guy. The money, "whatever he asks for," was wired into his account immediately.

That was good, right? That counts as good even if no empathetic tears were shed or no emotion was presented. It was a solution filling a direct need. Although foreign to me, it was business as usual on the 8th floor.

Monarchy

I dodged a monarch butterfly while walking the dog this evening. As it was flying towards my head I noticed just how large it was. I didn't move out of its way fast enough and his wing grazed my check. It put a smile on my face and gave the dog an excited bounce in her step.

Butterflies were a favorite metaphor used by my father in long lectures to my preteen self. The story has it that when I was 7 we vacationed in Michigan. I spent the majority of my time chasing butterflies on the beach. In all my anxious trapping abilities that suburban kids can posses I was never able to catch one. I fell asleep on my towel and forgot about all things beautiful and fluttering. When I woke I found nearly a colony were perched on my belly and feet.

My father than interjected whatever "thing" I was striving for as the butterfly and suggested if I were patient and stopped mindlessly chasing "things" that it would come to me. Besides, chasing "things" that didn't truly belong to me was a waste of energy that could be used to love what you currently have.

So, now I'm dodging butterflies. I wonder what my father would say about that.

sweet optimism

For lunch I had a chicken sandwich, an iced tea and a nap under a tree.
It worked. I returned to work with more energy and had fewer urges to argue with coworkers. However, it did not improve my scrabble game.

I forgot to set my alarm last night. Rooted in my schedule, my body naturally woke a mere 15 minutes late. I think many found it difficult to return to work after the 3 day weekend. There were many water cooler stories told, some taking three coffee breaks to conclude. It was a Tuesday shrouded in Monday activities.

whirly we

This weekend I reacquainted myself with a three year old and met two infants. It was monumental when my good friends began marrying but this offspring thing blows my mind.

Next month I will travel to Wisconsin and once more the dynamics of the group will have changed. Introduction to the group: another married couple and yet another infant.

This marks the beginning of hush...we are civilized adults who don't knock at pinatas, drink beer and fight over Evel Knievel DVD's.

This is Amy's garden. She sent me back to Illinois with tomatoes and candy.

Some points:

I've never driven that far while hung over.

I broke my phone while talking vigorously with my hands. I didn't save a single number to my SIM card. Oops.

I bought a certain book that was suggested to me, but I'm lacking the courage to start it.

The internet makes a small world even smaller. After getting slapped by the fact on Saturday night I really should read that book. Right?

I needed an oil change so I patronized the local garage. They no longer call me "mama," but I no longer pay for the full service at $80. Instead I received the regular, non-nickname service at $20.

empathy

My Grandma would cook for me during certain visits to her house. It was usually a salad, rabbit food as she called it, and a potato omelet sandwich. She would take my hand in hers and pray before we ate. Grandma always thanked God for me while she squeezed my hand with as strong of an intensity as was her love. Sometimes, I felt embarrassed that someone could love me so much. As a teenager I found her ability to love others to be overwhelming and confusing...almost mystical.

While watching the news tonight I wept for victims down south. I cried while hearing how Chicago is responding. Churches and homes are opening their doors. I just cried.

The embarrassment I felt as a teenager as my Grandmother squeezed my hand, or as she shed a tear while hugging me goodbye, has dissipated.

Love is a risk but a necessity. It is life. Love is not less than or more than. Love is community, friendship and partnership. Embarrassment to feel empathy and love for others is futile.

a bartender, a therapist and a waxer

What do they have in common? They listen to belly aching from their patrons. The bartender gets to look at attractive people all night. The therapist gets $50+/hour. The waxer, oh the waxer gets to cause me pain while she gives advice. I'll tell you this...my eyebrows have never looked this good and I never got a hug from any of my bartenders or therapists.

Last night I went to the library and checked Casanov in Blzano by Sandor Marai (Author of Embers). Cassette tape read by...who cares. The point is that I have 9 hours of "an erotically charged novel written within the framework of historical reality" waiting for me. This will be the best 4 hour drive to Stevens Point, WI EVER!