9 posts from 2006

Are you throwing or attending a holiday party this year?  Any ideas/tips to share?

I'll be at my parents' Xmas eve gathering. It'll only be partial family with lots of food (we do plates and plates of or-derves and snack for hours)---and alcohol. Simply walking into my parents' house automatically raises your alcohol blood level by .025%. Established early on in my development, alcohol and Xmas are inseperable. Last year, when I was decorating my apartment with holiday items, I found I simply could not begin the decorating without bourbon on the rocks. It just seemed *wrong.* I had to stop what I was doing and go to the liquor store.

So the key, for Xmas eve, is to stay well-hyrdrated, and pace yourself.

Xmas Day? Larger influx of family; it gets very loud and everyone is drinking heavily. Spend time in the room downstairs by yourself, in the former basement, meditating, centering yourself, grounding your chakras, and accepting your own flaws while loving yourself unconditionally any way. This will make it easier to go upstairs among your flawed, drunken family and accept them and love them unconditionally any way.

Happy Holiday.

So, pretty much, if I say I'm NEVER going to do something, I inevitably decide to do it. I swore that I would never get married and have a kid, which I did—I even did the proposing. After I finally became a homeowner, I stated frequently that I could never go back to renting. I may have even repeated this statement about a week before I decided to flee to the non-moldy arms of the Courtyard Apartments. And so, although I vehemently stated that I would never AGAIN get married or have a child, as of two weeks ago I have decided I will do just that should the opportunity to do so present itself.

One of the coolest things about kids is the wildly changing phases they go through. I wish I had been able to relax and enjoy my girl's development. When I just look at RJ now, and marvel at the amazingly cool and interesting person she is, I deeply regret missing so much of her development. I was distracted by so many things--the trauma around her birth, the move to Texas 2 weeks after the birth, moving again 11 months later and becoming a homeowner of a fixer-upper, being stricken with post-natal depression that stretched itself out for over two years but that no one knew about, losing my marriage because becoming a mother had turned me into a different person, learning to survive as a single mother when I barely knew how to be a mother in the first place.

Parenting an infant/toddler/young child is demanding all by itself. Trying to multi-task other major life changes at the same time is sheer folly. I've finally gotten that. [Surely I can learn PHP this weekend and build an interactive Web site that is fully accessible and seamlessly meshed with the accompanying MySQL database. Well, after first learning MySQL. Then I'll go grocery shopping. Stop it, kid, Mommy's coding. Then I'll learn to knit real quick, while RJ is watching her movie, and make these adorable slippers by suppertime. Don't bug me, kid--learning to make these slippers for you is clearly more important than interacting with you].

Over the last few months, I've given up on trying to do anything but take care of our basic needs--eating better, getting more sleep, parenting and playing. I felt like I needed permission to stop trying to achieve so much and just attend to those basics, the first level of Maslow's hierarchy of needs. So I asked my therapist for permission and she said OK. It's like I've lifted a huge weight off myself and, interestingly, have more energy to do other things now. I really wish I had adopted this approach years ago, and saved myself a great deal of frustration and resentment.

Well, we were both cranky and frustrated by the situation. Both of us have benefitted tremendously by my decision to just say "fuck it" (or "forget about it", if she's in in earshot), stop dwelling on my embarrasment about my ridiculous job, and just be glad I have a way to keep us warm, fed, clothed, and well-supplied with potato-and-egg tacos from Maria's Taco Express.

I guess this outlook is obvious to some people but it's news to me and I'm delighted by the results.

That's also why I've decided I do want to have another child, if the right person and situation present themselves. I want a do-over, with a lot less trauma and a lot more joy. Besides, Miss Monkey will be old enough to provide free babysitting soon, which is a major bonus.

This change in position has been quite a while in the making but I've been resisting it every step of the way. Particularly because I'm so lonely I could stab myself with a fork (although this is nothing new), which is enough to make a desperate woman start having crazy thoughts. Also, I dated this simply delicious man just a few times this summer who made a very favorable impression on me. Unfortunately, he was and is quite set on breeding and he cited that as the reason for not continuing to date me, as it was a lose/lose situation. And we're still pen pals so I've been quite suspicious about this increasing desire to have another child—because I might on some level be thinking that if my opposition to making babies truly was the only reason he stopped seeing me, and I changed my mind, and we got married and had a kid, I would ALWAYS have a date. So I really needed to get clear on what was really going on behind this most unexpected revelation.

After reflection, I do believe this is much larger than either general desperation for companionship or getting with some guy I had four dates with. This is about acknowledging that my refusal to consider having another child is fear-based--and I am committed to addressing my cowardice in all forms. If I am basing decisions or positions on fear, I'm not in faith and I'm not keeping my life open to do God's will. Which is the bigger issue here. If I am staying attuned to Spirit, if I am living and acting in faith, then I have nothing to fear. I might have another chance to feel a baby in my belly, to see the baby into this world in a way that doesn't leave me shattered, to just relax and enjoy the astonishing innocence and joy of a baby, a toddler, a little one, even a sass-mouth seven-year-old. As soon as I made the decision to allow for the possibility of creating another family, my entire chest opened up [the Grinch's heart grew 3 sizes that day] so I feel sure that I am on the right path. I don't know what will happen in that area, but the important thing is that I've realized that God needs me to keep my heart open and my schedule clear. So I've got that going for me.

Note: For a professional writer/editor, I can be quite bad at communicating clearly when engaging in oral conversation with others. For example, when I told my mother that I was leaning toward having another baby, I thought it went without saying that such a development would occur only within the context of a big, true, and legally binding love with a man I had yet to meet--the baby being contingent upon the meeting of, falling for, legally binding with, etc. I mean, what else? I was gonna nip off to the sperm bank and create a baby to raise on my own, because I wasn't busy, tired, flat-ass-broke enough already? Well, not quite--she thought I was ALREADY pregnant and looking to justify it. [Awwww, how sweet that my mom thought I could find anyone who would have sex with me. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ma!] The thought of having a baby all by myself, from scratch, at this point in my life, makes my blood run cold. There'd be no peace in this house. And that would be sad. If/when I have another, we (me & the man TBD) will be raising the child to know and live in and expect joy, and to reflect that joy back out into the universe, to make this a brighter, happier world. Living in misery does not glorify God (no matter what the overly fertile Catholics say).

Listening to Pandora.com this week, I've really become fascinated with the answers to "Why did you play this song?"

Had someone asked me just days ago "do you enjoy extensive vamping?" I would have been at a loss for an answer. Yet Pandora has repeatedly told me this week how much I dig it. And, as it turns out that the term 'vamping' refers to musical improvisation, I can confirm that I do.

So many things I did not know about myself: I like pina coladas, getting caught in the rain, and acoustic sonority. Dynamic males vocals--oh, yes. Subtle use of vocal harmony, mmmm. Wait--prominent organ? Seriously? OK. Well, it goes without saying that electric rock instrumentation is important to me. It may shock some who know me to learn that I swing for both major AND minor tonalities. I love this phrase: flat out funky grooves. And this one: call and answer vocal harmony (antiphony).

One source of frustration: how can I convey that yes, I do enjoy a vocal-centric aesthetic, major key tonality, and electric rock instrumentation, but I don't ever want to hear anything--not one track--off of Interpol's second album? Ever?

Let's make a list.  What are 20 things in your life that you're grateful for? 
Inspired by wyndslash.vox.com.

1. My daughter
2. My dog
3. The excellent health, strength, and humor of my daughter and my dog.
4. My own excellent health, strength, and sense of humor.
5. My job. It pays for stuff.
6. My car, Foster. He never lets me down.
7. This fabbo computer I'm typing on.
8. My friends, all 3 of them.
9. My best friend, my co-parent.
10. My parents.
11. Creativity, exhiliratingly realized
12. Deep thinky thoughts, articulately expressed
13. Smart, brave, and kind things people do
14. Music
15. Mathematics
16. Code
17. This unit I'm renting, which is slowly becoming a possible home
18. Trials and tribulations that help/make me connect with Spirit on an ever deeper/higher level
19. Kisses so stellar they make me slackjawed and starry eyed for about 20 minutes afterward
20. The possibility that I will, when the time is right for all involved, have a partner/boyfriend/mate who can keep me well supplied with such kisses.

More training schedule customization: Instead of 30mins on Monday and 25min on Tuesday, I did 25mins on Monday and 30mins on Tuesday.

Monday afternoon was simply beautiful and I ran through the neighborhood around 6pm. The hills are intense--one seemed to be shooting straight up--ended just walking up it, which was still a good workout for legs and lungs.

This morning was lovely as well. Chloe and I ran/walked/sniffed/peed/pooped up to Blockbuster to return the two terrible movies RJ rented. Then I took Chloe home and went for another 15 minutes by myself--it's so much easier to run without a powerful sniffing machine attached to my arm, particularly when said sniffing machine has a low center of gravity and can truly yank you to a yank-tastic arm-pulled-out-socket halt. My Bassador, she is powerful.

Runner's World decided to send me a few free issues as an inducement to subscribe. I feel like I need to read these where no one can see me--despite having trained for and completed a half-marathon last fall/winter, I still feel like I'm not really a runner. I run, but I'm not a runner. Partly because I haven't been doing it very long, and partly because I haven't made running part of my lifestyle. I didn't run all summer, for example. Granted, it's South Texas so I don't do much of anything during the summer. So far, running is something I have to specifically plan to do, within a structured plan. And I feel like I need to have on the correct clothing and footwear (actually a matter of great practicality, as both greatly affect the comfort factor, but still) along with the right kind of music that will properly motivate me. And I have to, you know, do whole run the way it's supposed to be done, for a sufficient to ideal amount of time. I'm so afraid of making a mistake.

That fear limits me in every aspect of my life. I'm really getting bored with it.

So, I'm reading Runners World and there's an article by this guy who says running is his cure for everything. "Got a headache? Run five miles. Got a hangover? Run five miles." I'm astounded by this notion. What, does he just put on running shoes and go out the door? Without first ensuring that he has the proper amount of and dispenser for water? Is he sure it's a waterbottle run rather than a Camelbak run, depending upon weather conditions and predicted level of thirst? Without making sure he has ID, debit card, a dollar or two, cell phone, and the most supportive yet breathable socks that are clean? He just goes out and runs real quick?

It's a startling notion. I really kind of like it.

Is there a friend who you owe a phonecall or email? What's stopping you?

All 3 of my sisters. I'm always afraid I'll say something wrong. Or have nothing to say at all.

Tokyo Tapes

Hackers and Painters: Big Ideas from the Computer Age

Rather than perform any physical exercise today, I spent literally hours in 2 coffeehouses hanging out with one old friend and one new friend. Caught up with Christy and her young uns at Ruta Maya, then went to Cafe Mundi to meet one of the few Austin gals on the chicklit.com forums. I just met her today; we are starting a bookclub.

While at Cafe Mundi (easily my favorite coffeehouse in Austin so far), I was tempted by and succumbed to buying a bottle of beer, even though I'm trying to avoid dallying with alcohol while I get down to a more workable running weight. As always, it was the visual aspect of the packaging that got me--this bottle is so cool, I brought it home to use as a bud vase. (Whenever I make poor decisions about expending my resources, there's always a strong visual or musical element involved: "Well, I can buy groceries next month. Right now I NEED more late-70s Scorpions in my life. Ooooooh, Tokyo Tapes." "OK, I've quit drinking for the next 2 months--unless the label has adorable pink elephants on it and an enchanting stoneware look!" And so forth.) (Alcohol, further, exacerbates my unfortunate tendencies to overspend and overeat. As it turns out, this one bottle of beer cost me an unexpectedly high $5.00 and I ate the entire 3-egg migas plate that came with it. So, there that is.)

After our coffeehouse extravaganza of a Sunday, the kid and I headed home, where I took a nap instead of doing the running drills I'd had scheduled. The reason Delirium Tremens beer is $5? It has twice the alcohol of regular beer. Ah, I see.

What with one thing and another, now I eating breadsticks and drinking Tito's with Tuaca--a delicious combination all around. Albeit one that is sending my blood sugar pinging around and really paving the way for more empty calories and less restful sleep. Ay yi yi. But I know better than that so I'm going to get more ice water and go upstairs to read more from Hackers and Painters. A fascinating read, particularly for a hacker-in-training such as myself. Salut.

Here's what DT looks like, by the way (I didn't get to take the glass home):

Listening to: Pandora.com, b/c iTunes 7.0 wrecks itself on both my PCs. Just heard "Ganglord" by Morrissey.

Today I did not run 3 miles and then do some running drills. I managed only about 2.5, and the only drill was shying away from heat stroke. I did run 3 miles last Saturday, instead of 2 miles plus drills. It's 4 weeks into my training season and I find I'm bucking the schedule every week. But then, I did that last year too, and still managed to complete 2 half-marathons (that's one more than I was originally training for). So, there.

Here's the thing about today: I didn't hit the trail until 1:30, when it was 97 degrees and about, oh, 97% humidity. And I forgot my sunglasses, which made it seem all the hotter. I actually took off my shirt and ran with just my sports bra--a sturdy, no-nonsense garment not likely to inspire cat calls or raised eyebrows.

Initially I was thinking, though, that I shouldn't run without covering up because I don't have the kind of torso I usually see attached to a sports-bra-only. My belly is not lean and tan and toned. It's round and pale and, uh, relaxed. I love it, though. It's the only belly I've got and it's always been good to me. And so I then thought that I should take my belly out and about and inspire other non-personal-trainered bellies to come on out into the sun. Maybe, maybe not.

Plus, I do have a torso-encircling tattoo that I might as well put on display. I like my tattoo a lot too. It's a good one, although not finished. (Technically, it is finished, but it all has to be re-inked b/c of the lousy fill job done by the original artist. I try not to think about it, too much.)

I'm just proud of myself for getting out there, staying out there, doing the best I could instead of blowing the whole thing off. Drills tomorrow, maybe.

What movie can you quote by heart?
Submitted by clamhead.

Better Off Dead, Raising Arizona