From blue to cheery in half a minute

Since my mood has changed from that earlier entry, I felt it necessary to end today’s blog-o-rama entries on an up beat note. A woman can only fight off the festive, happy, excited feeling of Christmas for so long before the brightly colored lights of the neighborhood shine their joy in on me.

I’m a week and three days away from being with my family, laughing at repetitive but hysterical stories and soaking in exactly what this holiday is all about. Loving one another and being grateful.

And yummy food.

And stocking stuffers.

And re-uniting with old friends.

(And also getting tattoo’d hopefully!)

Christmas Blues

I’ve been delaying my impulse to blog today.

I feel very private today. Very mute. As if the waterfall of words, thoughts and feelings in me will crash the contained barriers and spill everywhere. I am no mood to spill or crash barriers.

I did Christmas shopping today. It is partly what has brought on the silence. Sometimes, the ache of the Christmas blues is so deep, it sucks your breath and leaves one speechless.

Today is that day.

Cheered Up

Sometimes it just takes a phone call to remind you that laughter is the best medicine.

Sometimes it takes jestful jabs to get you back in fighting shape.

Sometimes it takes shared stories and good hearted teasing to remind you of who you are.

…and sometimes the voice on the phone just reminds you to bring the freakin’ shot glass!

Trying…

I am trying…

…to stay awake on a Saturday night.

…to not feel guilty for begging off of dinner plans.

…not to listen for every little creak in the wall.

…to fend off a headache.

…to not relapse into stress.

…to cherish the thought that beautiful Christmas is only a week and half away.

…to figure out what the heck I’m going to buy everyone for said Christmas.

…to fend off thoughts that are pretty much nothing but empty air now.

…to understand the pattern.

…to not give a shit about the pattern.

…to have faith.

…to feel loved.

…to think of how lucky and blessed i am.

…to not become bitter.

…to not become a victim of my baggage.

…to be patient and understand when the “ahh…” moment will come for myself.

I am trying to do, or in some cases, not do all these things.

…my how these Saturdays have changed…

Aggravation

I am aggravated.

Aggravated that on a day that was originally planned a couple weeks back as an intended blast of happy holiday fun turned into THREE HOURS of steel wooling every hole in my G-d damn bedroom. Today was NOT the day I was envisioning. Today is a big ole loser girl day. And if someone even tried to ask me how my Saturday went this is how it would go…

Person: Gee [insert my name here] – what did you do on the Saturday one week before Christmas?

ME: Well ya know, I had originally had these super fun festive plans and then it all disintegrated into a heap of usual groundless crap and while I was wallowing in pointless wallow, my room got taken over by meese and instead i used the Saturday to steel wool & metal tape EVERY nook and cranny in my attic level apartment. Other than that…it was mutha’ frackin’ awesome happy day…thanks for asking.

Person: Oh…um…oh…well…Merry Christmas!

ME: Are you KIDDING me? Yeah, Merry %$#*! to you too buddy.

This was NOT a good day people. The only thing that will make this a good day is knowing that the three hours worth of elbow grease (that me and roomie both did) pays off and I can once again claim my room in peace, in both the day AND the night.

I am off to eat some Spanish rice and call it a day.

I am truly, honestly, disgusted with everything right now. It WILL pass, but if I could hand out ass whoopins today, I would, and the first person on the list would be ME.

Oh brother.

Adventures in Meesedom: Part Deux

Well, call me a bow and tie me tight on a package…I did not KNOW that I had more than one mouse.

I in my naive belief tried to convince myself (despite what my roomie warned me of) that there would be only ONE rogue, lonely mouse. Three days ago he was caught and released FAR FAR away. I am confident its not the same mouse, finding his way home. But in those three days since he left my abode, I had perfect silence. Didn’t suspect a thing. I had cleaned out the cubby closet where the little bugger was living and blocked the two wood slat doors so IF there was another bugger, they couldn’t so quickly run out into my room. MY room. MY house. I also left one of those death in an instant traps in there, “just in case” in the off chance, another rogue one showed up. You know, like next year.

Well next year, turned out to be last night….

It’s 1am, I’m in bed, I’ve taken my meds that helps me go sleepy sleepy (anti-anxiety med) and I shut off the lights. All of a sudden I hear a LOUD LOUD sound and I jump up. Then I hear scratching of some sort, LOUD scratching. And then silence…it did not occur to me that perhaps it was the sound of the meese in the trap. Instead I pictured some rat size rodent wandering inside the cubby. Coming to seek revenge on me for taking away it’s teeny tiny offspring .

I took my pillow, my fav sleepy stuffy (yes I’m a 6yr old living in a 39 yr old’s body, we’ve been through this) and my cell phone and headed down to the spare room. Even though it had been quiet after the loudness, I wasn’t taking any chances. I climbed into the spare bed and texted to my roomie (who was out)…

“we have another mouse. i’m downstairs”

So now in the morning, I got brave and opened the cubby door. Sure enough the spring was UP on the trap. The sound I heard was the critter getting caught. In retrospect, not a pretty sound. But, a hell of a lot better sound than that of it wondering around my room, getting into my things and scurrying all over. I’ll take the trap sound every time.

So… TWO down. God help me, I hope there aren’t many more to go. We are stuffing holes with steely wool and caulking today. Atleast I know where they are coming in from so fingers crossed, today will be the end it.

This sucks. I HATE mice now. More than even before. I’ve no tolerance. If they want to keep living I recommend they pick a different house. No more humane traps. I want them GONE for good. (sorry all you “humane” lovers, they carry disease, they poop everywhere). My home is not a mouse toilet.

So there.

I’m A Big Fat Island

Well, I hate to dissappoint you my faithful blog-o-readers, but opted to stay in tonight. I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t go out. I had a literature class tonight downtown and then had to make a decision. Go in the ladies room and get dolled up and head to the club OR head home to my lovely lil Christmas tree, chinese noodles and a Christmas cupcake.

Clearly I opted for the latter. Now in all fairness I was on the verge of battling a not so pleasant headache, but it was interesting that as soon as I decided to head home, I felt better. If one thing I’ve learned since my last visit to the hospital, I MUST pay attention to my body when it tells me something. And if going out when I wasn’t sure I wanted to was going to provide me stress and anxiety, than I knew not to go. As silly as it sounds, I’m accepting myself, and my limits are different.

And that leads me here. Cozied again in my favorite jammies, staring at pretty lights and observing the amazing moonlight streaming into my room right now.

This was a good decision. And besides that little black dress can be worn for New Year’s Eve.

I’m in no rush.

No Man is An Island

Well, I’m at work again blogging, don’t tell…shhhh.

So tonight, tonight, I am going out. Going to some swanky lil hip bar in a part of NYC that I ALWAYS get lost wandering around in (if the streets ain’t numbered i figure in to my travel time a good extra 20 minute “i’m lost” time). I want to go, it’s a nice little going away drinks thing for a lovely gal who is making big changes in her life, I say GO YOU! Women have to take control of their lives and not let the rammifications of a man-went-wrong situation push them, pile drive them into the ground of their lives. There is just too much of that around me. Anyway…whoops…that was a mini rant…I know it ALL isn’t like that…but I’ve seen alot, experienced it personally (10yrs worth) and in the end, when all you want to do is curl up in a ball and die, it’s time to change your life. New life. New love. New day.

SO…where was I…oh yes! So i’m going out tonight. And with me, as with everything, it’s never as simple as it should be. People go out. That’s what they do. They get all gussy’d up an put on their best, practice their smile and off they go into the nyc wilderness. Me? ME? Hellllllll to the no…for me it’s an all day preparation. It’s game day. It’s stretching, and doing sprints, and getting my head in the “game”. The game that is going out.

You see…

I really, REALLY do not like to go out. And I KNOW on this blog numerous times it will say “ooooohhh i’m goin’ out…woohoo”. But you know what? I do it because there are two sides to my personality. My intention is always honest. “oh yes, i’ll go, oh yes, absolutely” and then the day appears and i’m like “awww shit, i gotta go out”. But most of the time once I’m there, and there’s a drink in me, I’m more than fine. My light goes on, my smile is automatic and all is well in the “i went out tonight” world. But I can feel in myself the dread for tonight. I don’t get to do my full day preparations, I don’t get to rock out to Maroon 5 or Iceberg Radio while I paint my face, lace my dress. NOPE. Tonight I have to swing by school right after work, pick-up an assignment and then…brace yourself…CHANGE IN THE LADIES ROOM. Now I ask you, how psyched up can i get changing in a college’s ladies room? Not very. But alas, I will try. I’ve got all my crap with me, and I’m gonna give it the old team effort.

Why it’s like this for me I’ve no idea. But I’ve always viewed going out to a party as some sort of marathon or sporting event. My ultimate goal sort of becomes…well…to just make it through the night without an injury.

My most favorite part going out?

Getting home and being proud that I atleast entered the match, ran the marathon, joined the team.

I’m trying to learn No Man is An Island.

Content = Boring Blog

Hi y’all – well i fear this evening’s blog will be a terribly, droll entry, as it appears I am feeling…content (dunh dunh dunnnhh!).

I just got home from a VERY long day of work. There was a board meeting tonight so I basically worked a 12hr day total. Yep, I’m poopity poop pooped. And tuckered out to boot. And now, I’m here, snuggled in my bed, laptop on my, er, um, lap and listening to the rain. I actually felt joy shedding the wet clothes off and slipping into my flannels (so sexy i am, Christmas flannel, oh yeah, work it…work it…ok i’m trying to jazz this evening’s entry up and it’s not working…)

Anyway, I’m feelin’ pretty darn content. Starting to breathe my day in and exhale it out when the moon rises and my lids close. Suddenly there are no more mysteries or cliff hangers, no shoes waiting to drop on my head or a sky full of stars waiting to crack itself open. The stresses and anxieties I was feeling from months and months ago regarding my divorce, my over ambitious college schedule, my edit function, my, well you name it, have all slipped from me. And now I am here just lying in bed, thinking about a lovely night’s slumber, thinking about the amazing night of pieces I’m producing in January, the wonderful oodles of Christmas shopping I’ve still yet to do, the week’s holiday with family and a fun time planned with friends (note: tattoo Taz’!!!, i hope we can do that tattoo!!! weeeee!!!). I’m thinking about the party I have tomorrow night and the hot little black dress I bought for it. I’m thinking about the amazing New Year’s plans I have, finally, big real New Year’s Eve plans! So much good, so much joy, so much relief.

I’m back here in my skin and it feels divine. Right were I should be…and listening to the rain.

The Shut Off Valve

I’m here at work, and yes, I’ve actually been getting work done, being “productive” and then it occured to me the concept of the shut off valve….and I had to blog it out of me.

It’s amazing how most all of us have it. The shut off valve.  How when something goes south, how easy (or appears to be easy) – how easy it is to shut off, shut down, move on. And that’s fine, hey, we all do what we need to do to get through our days and lives. But wow…to think about exchanges I had only a couple weeks ago (not even, maybe even just a week ago) compared to now. Wow. I mean WOW. It’s like…it never happened. Nothing ever happened. Ever. Nice knowin’ ya. See ya on the other side once all the crap settles. I’ll wave a distant wave and find my own peace.

And again that’s ok, and i myself am guilty of the shut off valve, big time, but more for protection of myself. My dwelling on silly (and not so silly) bits lasted, as expected, just the weekend and now, as promised and expected…i’m movin’ on. And feelin’ my skin and smiling at Christmas lights and it is all good.

But my “valve” if you will, is a surface valve. Functional. A protectional function that blocks me from becoming bitter, nasty, distrustful, it is used for good, even if it feels foreign everytime it kicks in. But I don’t ever forget anything really. I remember everything down to my toes and that is the gem I spoke of yesterday. I remember joyous, happy, silly moments and find comfort in the fact that I got to experience them. No ill feeling or sick to my stomach, why oh why, did I go there feeling. Just plain ole happy.

Life is full of experiences and some will work for a longer term and some will not. What ever it is, how ever it is…it’s not my job to figure it out. It’s just my job to follow the flow of my life…and when the rapids get rough or the heart bares too much weight and the moment comes to activate the shut off valve, i’ll be ready, wrench in hand.