Tired and Cranky

I went out of town this weekend... just to get away (again). There is something about escape that is appealing to me. Of course, when you get back, all the shit is still there and you still have to deal with it.
And I'm so tired.
Tired like I was on Friday. Tired like I jut can't deal with, you know, people.

I find that I have less patience with some situations... and I don't understand why people make things so difficult. Simple things. Everyday things. Isn't this world exhausting enough without adding extra steps? Extra requirements? Extra drama?

Bean is with her dad this week and I think that's probably a good thing. My arms and legs feel so heavy... the effort it takes to think about movement. I just don't have anything left. I am forcing myself to stay at work for another half hour and then I can go home. I know when I get there I am going to bed and I probably won't get up again until tomorrow.

I'm OK... just hiding a little.

Knit on!

Crazy Busy...

But mostly crazy.

Grief is hard. And also slippery.
Bean and I went to our final group meeting last night and it was harder than either of us expected. I think we are finally able to forgive him for being such an angry terrible force in our lives... and that makes it emotionally harder to bear.
It's so much easier to be angry than it is to be sad.
It's so much easier to be relieved that he's gone than it is to miss him.

I don't think I miss him, exactly... I think that I mourn the person that he was before, and I think I mourn the relationship that we were supposed to have - in the same way that I mourn the child we didn't have.
I am relieved that there is no child.
I am not relieved that he is dead, but I am relieved that he is no longer a threat to me. And just the fact that I would think about it like that - to know that he transformed so completely from the gentle, funny man who loved me into someone I would see as a threat - makes me unbearably sad.

I am doing well. Really well. Things are moving in positive directions in more or less every part of my life and most of that would have been impossible - or at least VERY difficult - with him around.

I feel lucky.
I feel blessed.

But sometimes I feel really sad - and sad feels appropriate. Sometimes I resist the things that I would ordinarily turn to for comfort because I feel like maybe I'm not supposed to be comforted. Maybe I'm supposed to just feel it and breathe through it.

Misc.

Two more pictures from my trip...






These are socks knitted from recycled newspaper.

And this is lace made from car parts.
Yup.
Lace.
Made from cars.


Just remember that when you start thinking that delicate and strong are opposites.


I had dinner with some friends last night and came home full of carbs and happiness.

And then went home and cleaned my kitchen. And I also scrubbed the kitchen floor.
(And I don't mean ANY of that euphemistically!!)
I don't know what forces are at work here, but they are scaring me.
There was something about the combination of bleach and lemon-scented Pine-Sol that kept me moving.

I got a call earlier this morning from the VA... I have "officially" been assigned to the Vet Center. I am excited about this placement and I am SOOOOO ready to do some actual work. things at my part-time job have gone from bad to worse... I'm trying to decide if I should work all the way through July or not.
I'm really ready to have my Sundays completely open.

I am also ready to go part time at the radio station. I can't do that for a few more months, but it will be so nice to only be working part time, going to school part time and working my 24 hours/week at my practicum. Ask me again in three months, but right now it seems like cake. Especially compared to what it was going to be: full time job, part time job, part time school and practicum. Ugh.

All work and no naps makes Naplover a grumpy girl.

I'm home!!

Quick post... more pictures tomorrow!!

I had a wonderful vacation, but it is so nice to be home.
I would have posted sooner, but the internets were down all over...

Both Marianne and Emilie made me feel so welcome and pampered that I wasn't sure if I would remember how to take care of myself... but I've done ok so far.

My back is a tangled mess (thank you, Greyhound) and while there were two ENTIRE days when my foot was the size and shape of a foot, it is now swollen and sore again.
Don't take the bus. Just don't.
It's like flying, but really slow and with really horrible people and also no snacks.
Emilie packed sandwiches for us before we left (thank you, thank you, thank you) and there were vending machines along the way. I finished an entire book - a long one even - on the way home.

Oh the books!! While in Bloomington I bought ten pounds of books, and also yarn and clothes. Lots of clothes. Miraculously I was able to fit it all in to my suitcase, but then my suitcase was 5 pounds over the weight limit, so I handed 5 pounds of books to Derek and he is going to mail them to me.

Other than books buying, I napped a lot and ate a lot and relaxed on the couch and knitted a lot. I did not finish the sweater for Grace, but I am past the halfway point, and she will have it in a few weeks.

Oh Grace. She is the sweetest baby. She reminds me of Bean at 2 - funny and sweet and smart and loving. Spending time with her filled my baby need for a few more months... surely someone else here is going to have a baby soon, right?

And Dharma... the first Daschund in my entire life who did not pee all over me! She only barked a little and was very sweet and lovely too.

Knitting!!

We went to an exhibit today called Radical Lace, Subversive Knitting. Oh wow. Seriously. Wow.


Here is a $20,000 dress.

It's a dress knitted from shredded money. $20,000.









Then there's this photo...





That is not actually a photo. It's knitted.



See:
















There was a light bulb-less lamp... knitted out of fiber optic cables.











And here's what my foot looked like when we got home. I should probably be walking less and napping more.

Oh my aching cell phone...

So just before we left town... like 11:30 or so on Friday, Bean and I decided that we should get a snack. The cab was supposed to pick us up at 1:30, so we had some time, but we decided to go to McDonalds, thinking that it would be better to just get something quick and take it home rather than go to Denny's or IHOP or something. I swear to Bob that as we were pulling out of the driveway I thought, "I have a bad feeling about this..."
So we get to McDonalds without incident, and despite the fact that they were unbelievably slow we got home in plenty of time to eat and then finish packing before the cab got there.
As I pulled into the driveway my cell phone slid into an open cup of iced tea. Completely submerged. I don't know a lot about the inner workings of cell phones, but I do know that water = bad.
So I'm shaking it and cursing at it and trying to dry it off (and out)... and nothing. It won't even come on. I'm officially fucked.

Then I remember that we never got rid of Bartleby's phone... so I find it and call Verizon. While I'm on hold (20 fucking minutes, by the way) I drive to the station so that I can print out my last bill - hoping to salvage some phone numbers. With one or two exceptions, I have no idea how to get in touch with any of you without my cell phone. Seriously. The Fabulous Michelle's phone number? Michelle. My sister's phone number? Abby. (Seriously... please call me and leave an identifying message or text me your name or something so that I can rebuild my phone book!! And if you happen to know the Twitter number send me that too... I HATED being on the bus with no way to Twitter about the other people on it).

So at this point it's 1 am, I am actually feeling pretty good about this solution because I am MUCH rougher on my phones than he was (partly because he never did anything and he never called anyone, and partly because I am an accident in motion most of the time) so his phone was in really good shape. But it was also full of photos and old (old, old, old) text messages and that sort of sucked... I basically just deleted everything.

OK, so it's almost 1:30 and we are packed and fed and exhausted and everything is great. Fast forward to Saturday afternoon... it must have been close to 1:00. We pull into the bus station in St. Louis... that would be EAST St. Louis... and I saw a KFC across the street. Not perfect, but it had been more than 12 hours since we had seen anything that wasn't from a vending machine. So we cross the (deserted) street, exhausted, with all of our luggage.
We eat.
We dump our tray.
We go to the restroom.
We head back across the street.
We get in line.
Again.
And then I realize that my cell phone is missing. In fact, the last time I remember seeing it was when I put it on my tray at KFC so I could keep an eye on the time and we wouldn't miss the bus.
I left Bean with the luggage, ran (hobbled) back across the street and (oh yeah) dug through the trash. I found it, covered in mashed potatoes. Classic. I ran (hobbled) back across the street and back to Bean who is FREAKING out because in the 5 minutes I was gone they called our bus. So we ran (she ran, I hobbled) outside to get in line. Again. And I am still holding this mashed potato covered phone that I am not sure is even still alive. Luckily, I plan for these kinds of disasters (remember, I have lived with me for almost 33 years now... I'm getting pretty good at this) and there were baby wipes in my bag.

The phone works.

So the bus...

Is dirty and cramped and horrible. Really horrible.
And there are children on the bus. Raggedy screaming children who smelled like cat pee and didn't understand the concept of personal space.
And bus stations? In the worst parts of town. Bean and I were particularly fond of the hour we spent in east St. Louis. Seriously.
I was glad that I used "second purse" (aka my bra) for our cash.

I have apparently been spoiled by airports... all the clean and food courts and air conditioning. And also the baggage services. Every time you get off the bus you have to schlep your own bags to the next bus. And the way I pack this is a serious issue.

But we made it and have spent a lovely day with Marianne and Mike and Grace. Of course, Bean and Grace are like peas and carrots...

Today we went to an art fair and then came home for a long nap... OK, I took a long nap. Everyone else rested and watched TV and then they finally gave up and woke me up for dinner.

And that sweater that I was going to finish on the way? Um... I've only managed to knit about three inches...

But I'm having a nice, relaxing trip. I may never come back.

Leaving Town

OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGOD.

I always forget when I plan a trip that I am a classic procrastinator and that I need to stop that.

I had class all day yesterday and today, which makes me have to stay late at work, which makes me get home hours and hours after I usually do, which cuts into my lounging around time... and yet somehow in the days and hours leading up to the busybusy time I do not do laundry or run the million and a half errands that always seem to come up... and I end up leaving town with eighteen pairs of underpants, no toothbrush and a bag full of books I won't read because I'll be knitting instead.

Oh well. Never underestimate the healing powers of clean underpants.

So I'm exhausted from not sleeping last night, and from class all day, and from life in general... and I still have work to finish and a paper to write (and turn in) tonight. ACK!!

I'll probably get more done if I stop blogging, eh?

I'll write from the road!!
Y'all be good until I get back!

Loooooong Day... and Some Yarn

My summer class started today (Family Therapy with Curtis the Wonder Prof). I had a good time in class and everything, but it makes for a long-assed day. We got out a little early (only 7 hours in the classroom instead of 8) which was great, because I ran out of yarn about ten minutes before he let us go. Whew!! Why did I not put an extra skein in the bag this morning?!? Won't be making that mistake again!!

Then I picked up Bean and went to Twist. For yarn for a totally different new project.
I'm crazy. You all knew that.
But I think that Grace needs this sweater, and I think I can knit it on the way to Indiana. It's a 13 hour ride!! I can do it!! (Look, Ma! No buttons!!) I also bought some Panda Cotton in two colors to make Grace some socks, just in case I finish the sweater early. (Stop laughing).

I am totally NOT AT ALL ready for our trip. I mean, I have my books lined up and I have my knitting planned... but I have about eleventy-billion things to do at work and zero time... Also? If I don't do some laundry soon we'll be naked on our trip. Not a good look for me. Seriously.

Bean and I have our (stupid) grief group tonight and then I have a LOT of reading to do. And you know, when I complain about the amount of reading it's a LOT.

DON'T Forget - Saturday is International Knit In Public Day!! I will be knitting in public on a Greyhound Bus...

Pathetic!!

(Warning... I might use the C-word. I almost never use the C-word. It is reserved for very special people).

I have been flying under the idiot step-mother's radar for a while now. Long enough to get comfortable and stop looking for the minefields of manipulation. Or maybe I just got used to her pathetic attempts to make me think I don't know my own child. That I am an oblivious fool. Or maybe she was just bored and I was an available target. Maybe she was looking for information... or all of the above. Whatever.

I talked to her for about ten minutes last night and in that ten minutes she made four direct hits - 2 about my parenting and 2 about That Bad Bad Man. Here's how she works - she lulls you into thinking it's just another normal conversation and then she makes her first strike. This one is just a warning shot; she's testing the waters. The first one takes you a second to process, because whatever she said was delivered with a smile. And she's so good at it that I didn't see the first hit coming. We're just chatting along and I'm not even really listening to her and then BOOM! The second was a few seconds later, as I was thinking, "wow, that was out of line." Then suddenly she has shifted topics and I remembered something important: if you stop moving, the T-Rex can't see you.

I stopped moving.
I put on my bored face.
I made non-committal noises and said, "I don't know" a lot.

Here's the thing that pisses me off: she got to me. She fucking got to me. She knows where my insecurities lie - either from memory or instinct - and she made it in. I don't think she knows she got me, and I take some small measure of comfort from that.

And I don't know what is more pathetic... the fact that she still needs to hurt me and manipulate me or the fact that she still can. I know her to be a lying, manipulative cunt and somehow the things she says (oh so sweetly) get through anyway.

This behavior is one of the biggest reasons I worked so hard to get her out of my life. (That and the fucking my husband thing). I don't need the drama, and I undermine my own self-confidence very well all by myself, thank you very much.

I talked to the ex-husband today (about something else entirely) and he mentioned that her doctor is changing her meds around. I told him to count her pills... I've been through this downward spiral with her more than once. It's not fun and she does not make it easy. He said, "I knew what I was getting into when I married her."
Oh really? Think so, huh? Aren't you cute.
I almost feel bad for him.
Almost.

SP12 Questionnaire

1. What is/are your favorite yarn/s to knit with? What fibers do you absolutely *not* like?
I love everything... but the softer the better. I am currently totally in love with Panda Cotton... great colors and perfect for summery socks!

2. What do you use to store your needles/hooks in?
I have a couple of needle rolls... and my Options case...

3. How long have you been knitting & how did you learn? Would you consider your skill level to be beginner, intermediate or advanced?
I have been knitting for 8 years now... A friend was visiting and I think she taught me so that I would leave her alone and let her knit!! I think I'm an intermediate knitter.

4. Do you have an Amazon or other online wish list?
Amazon and The Loopy Ewe

5. What's your favorite scent?
Lavender. (Real lavender, not synthetic lavender).

6. Do you have a sweet tooth? Favorite candy?
Yes... Jelly Bellys, anything chocolate...

7. What other crafts or Do-It-Yourself things do you like to do? Do you spin?
I am learning to sew... but I do not spin (yet, I'm sure it's just a matter of time).

8. What kind of music do you like? Can your computer/stereo play MP3s? (if your buddy wants to make you a CD)
Anything but country... ick. Currently I'm listening to a mix of Dave Matthews, Fiona Apple, Ani DiFranco, John Mayer and Tracy Chapman... I've been in an "early 90's" mode!! I have an iPod, and my stereo and computer can play MP3s.

9. What's your favorite color(s)? Any colors you just can't stand?
Purples, greens and blues and pink... don't really love orange and yellow.

10. What is your family situation? Do you have any pets?
Single mom, daughter who is 11 going on 20 and 2 cats.

11. Do you wear scarves, hats, mittens or ponchos?
Scarves and hats... more of a fingerless gloves kind of girl... and I'm a little "fluffy" for ponchos.

12. What is/are your favorite item/s to knit?
Socks!!

13. What are you knitting right now?
Socks!! I do have a Dragon Wings Wrap on the needles right now, and also 2 sweaters... and a hat... and also some more socks.

14. Do you like to receive handmade gifts?
Yes

15. Do you prefer straight or circular needles? Bamboo, aluminum, plastic?
Circular... I love bamboo, but the cats eat them... Knitpicks metal needles and Addi's are my favorites.

16. Do you own a yarn winder and/or swift?
Yes.

17. How old is your oldest UFO?
3 years

18. What is your favorite holiday?
Valentine's Day

19. Is there anything that you collect?
Um... other than yarn? Not really.

20. Any books, yarns, needles or patterns out there you are dying to get your hands on? What knitting magazine subscriptions do you have?
I currently get Interweave Knits

21. Are there any new techniques you'd like to learn?
Intarsia... and other colorwork

22. Are you a sock knitter? What are your foot measurements?
Yes!!
Shoe Size: 10; Foot Length: 9 inches; Circumference: 10 inches

23. When is your birthday?
June 18th

24. Are you on Ravelry? If so, what's your ID? Yes - Jillo

Very Good Things

First THIS:

more cat pictures

That Bad Bad Man is going to lose his street cred.
Last night he took me out for dinner, bonded with my dad over power tools, installed my new water heater, watched a girl movie, promised me a room full of yarn (as soon as he wins the lottery), fed me chocolate and tucked me in when I fell asleep.
And none of that is meant euphemistically.
I woke up this morning, took a long, hot shower and thought, "Now what can I break?!?"
(Kidding. What I really thought was the same thing I think every morning, "Oh shit! I'm late!").

There is nothing in the world more satisfying and amazing than clear, consistent, abundant hot water.

I also made a decision yesterday about my internship for next year. The interview I had last week at The Vet Center was amazing.
I loved the people, the atmosphere, the focus and mission of the clinic.
I loved that it was not located inside the labyrinth of the VA.
I loved that the "tour" started in the break room because, the woman giving the tour explained, they all spend a lot of time in the break room eating and talking.
I loved that the guy who interviewed me was charmed by the fact that I also watch The Golden Girls at midnight on Lifetime when I can't sleep.
I loved that he offered me the position unofficially and showed me my office before I left.
The only thing I didn't love is that if I take that position I am no longer in line for the stipend. I thought about it all weekend and yesterday I called and said that was OK. A good fit and the potential to practice in this area are more important than that little bit of money.
Yay me!
Now I want to get started. I'm excited about all of it. The clinic specializes in individual and group therapy for PTSD, sexual assault, marital issues, and grief and bereavement. (I know, right?!)
Le pant, le heave.

Just a few more days until Bean and I leave for Indiana!!
I have my travel reading and knitting ready, but I should probably do some laundry and clean a little bit. I am so excited - not just because I need to get the hell out of town for a few days.
I haven't seen Marianne since her wedding (!!!) and she has created an entire human being since then. Also, her husband Mike is charming and speaks French and is actually good enough for her.
And Emilie and Derek are basically family. But the good kind of family... the kind you actually want to speak to and spend time with. Emilie and I have been friends for 20 years and she still likes me! (And Derek has known me for 20 years and he still lets me in the house!!) She also shares my love of all things fiber, long naps, good food and Orlando Bloom. And while Derek does not speak French, he is quite charming. And also patient and sweet with Bean.

Is it Saturday yet?!?

Warm Heart, Cold Shower

So I had a fabulous time last night. Lots of food and good conversation... and Sex and the City... It was grand.
I went home after, opened a bottle of red wine and read for an hour or so and then I went to bed.

This morning I got up to get a glass of water and spend a lovely day lounging around before I had to leave for work and from the laundry room I could hear a dripping that sounded all together bad.
And it was.

My hot water heater had transformed overnight from a water "heater" to a water "fountain." Now I'm not one to step on anyone's dreams or anything, and if you feel deep inside that you were meant for greater things then go out into the world and make that happen. Out in the world. OUT in the world. If you were born a fountain trapped inside a heater make that transformation on your own time, in your own house and leave mine out of it. Thank you.

I called my daddy who told me where to find the "make the water stop lever" and said he'd be over tomorrow to take care of it.

Love you, daddy.

So there was a lot of water on the floor. Water and dryer lint and kitty litter and cardboard boxes. It was not pretty.

I had myself a good, old fashioned single-girl breakdown, full-out sobbing for a good 30 minutes. Honestly, isn't this what boys are FOR?!? Aren't they supposed to be the ones to fix these things just so that we don't have to? (I know the answer is no. Of the two worthless men I married the only one who would have had ANY idea what to do is the first one... and he would have just called That Bad Man and asked him what to do).

So I put on work clothes. (Stop laughing I do too own work clothes. They're just usually known as my "too depressed to move clothes" so you probably haven't seen them).

Here's a tip: if you don't own a shop vac... well, get one for crying out loud... but if you're faced with a flood like this before you make it to Sears for your new shop vac use blankets instead of towels for sopping it up. Seriously. Towels go all wet and limp and then you've still got gallons of water and wet towels. Blankets can sop up a lot of water - then you put them in the washing machine, spin 'em dry for a few minutes and then toss 'em back on the floor. Trust me on this one.

So I got the water up, spun my blankets then washed them while I cleaned the floor and moved stuff and cleaned the floor some more. Two hours of this. Ugh.
Y'all know how much I looooooove me some hard work and sweating and dirty stuff. And also how fond I am of cleaning.

Then I had to clean myself.
In a house with no hot water.
There was no screaming. There may have been some gasping and sputtering, because DAMN! But my hair and body are clean, there is no more water on the floor and my daddy is having "his guy" bring me a brand-spanking-new water heater tomorrow.

No more cold showers for me!

Fabreezing the Hoo Haw

(Note: if you are not interested in a rant about my hoo haw, or if you are uncomfortable reading about feminine hygiene you might want to just skip this one.)

So I'm a thrifty girl (no I'm not).
OK. I'm a girl who can't walk past a sale on anything (that's better).
A few months ago I was at the grocery store and they had panty liners on sale... it was a good price and it was a good brand so I stocked up.
I put them in the hall closet and more or less forgot about them until today.
This morning I'm getting ready for work and I thought - "Oh right, I'm not out of panty liners! I have two whole big boxes of them in the closet!" So I pulled them out and opened the box... At first I thought maybe I had stored them too close to some bath salts or something. Then I realized they are scented.

Flowery scented.
The "fresh and clean" verbiage on the box was apparently more than just a hope, it was a threat.

Let's ignore the fact that I am allergic to most fragrances.
Let's ignore the fact that fragrances and dyes are pretty much not good in an area that delicate anyway.

Maybe it's just me...
But who wants a floral scented vagina?!? Shouldn't it smell like, you know, a vagina?
I mean, if you're healthy and not hygienically challenged there is nothing at all with things smelling the way they're supposed to smell!
Besides... if something in your house smells bad and you spray the crap out of it with some kind of flowery nonsense don't you just end up with bad smell layered with flowery nonsense which ultimately just smells worse?!?

I mean, unless it's Fabreeze. (And who wants to Fabreeze their hoo haw anyway?!?)

I can hear some of you out there, you know. "But NapLover, sometimes there are, a-hem, occasions in which one might want to, you know, smell a little special. For company..."

I say people who really love steak don't cover the flavor with steak sauce. And they sure as hell aren't going to spritz it down with eau de toilette first.

So there.

('Cause I'm an Addict, Baby)

Brace yourselves.
What I'm going to tell you is frightening and may cause you to panic. Just breathe deeply and know that I am strong enough to get through this too.
Ready?
Deep breath.
I got to work today and had no knitting with me. I had left it all at home. Not a sock, not a dishcloth, not a square. No needles, no yarn, nothing.
I know.
It's going to be OK, I promise.

It was an accident. I do need to read the book for Friday's book club, so I should be reading in my spare time anyway, but still. I realized I hadn't grabbed my knitting bag when I stopped at Quik Trip for my Diet Dr. Pepper and I seriously almost went back home.
(Also in my knitting bag is my iPod... so that means I can't sit at my desk and ignore everyone while I listen to "I Want Your Sex" and other various 80's disasters while I work).

On the other hand, we're supposed to get severe storms and possibly a round of tornadoes today. What if I get stuck here? Separated from my fibers and pointy sticks? Separated from my socks in progress and my beautiful Dragon Wings wrap?

Now I'm feeling a little sick. Perhaps it would be best to go home early today. You know, for safety.

Well, if the storm hits, leaving me fiber-less and the station is destroyed around me, tell the rescue crew I'm somewhere under the piles of debris in the fetal position humming "Undone - The Sweater Song."

We Are Not Amused

All of this "going to bed at a reasonable hour" bullshit has one large, unhappy side effect. I was awake this morning at 5:30. Awake awake. Oh my inner child and I are pissed.
We like the sleep.

So I am at work early - to read War and Peace where the coffee is free. Crazytown, right? (Crazytownovitch??) The Best Bookstore in the World issued a summer reading challenge and I said, "I laugh at your challenge. Ha."
The first meeting is this morning at 11, and I am still 200 pages behind. I realize that even I can not read 200 pages of War and Peace by then (even if I pulled myself away from the computer and actually, um, read) but I have to try to get close!! I didn't know that I would be able to make this meeting until yesterday so I was taking my time. Apparently one of my brother's cool friends is going to be there, too. I wonder who else I will know... Could be a frightening place to be. Someone reminded me recently that the literary community in this town is smaller than I realized. (This is why events like Final Friday turn into Ex-boyfriends on Parade for me).

Oh, and to clarify, "The Gay One" is not actually gay... well, he's not actually out... he is, in fact, married to a woman. He's just prissy and much more girly than I am (I know, right?) and he is completely in love with his best friend. Also, a lot (A LOT) of people thought he was gay when they met him. So he is "The Gay One" despite his apparent straightness.
He would not be pleased if he knew I referred to him that way... but then he is the reason I have sworn off writers and English majors as potential dates. Well, he was sort of the lead pipe that broke the camel's back. The lead pipe attached to the anvil.

I always thought I was attracted to the bookish, studious guy who read all the time and scribbles things down in a notebook that he carries with him.
Apparently what I am actually attracted to is the guy who can fix my shower, throw me around in bed for a few hours and then go home.

Does that make me a "Samantha?" Because I really aspire to more of a "Miranda."

Healing and Sleeping

Dr. N said if I promised not to hop up and down on it for at least two more weeks I could take the boot off. I think we have established that in general I do not hop. So I am in honest-to-bob shoes, walking sloooooowly and trying to convince my foot that it is now just fine to bend a little.

And what's with all the sleeping?!? I don't sleep!! Not for months. But Sunday night I was asleep way before 1 am and last night I was asleep before 10 pm! Who knew I could sleep like that? At NIGHT even! But the dreams - holy cats. I had a dream the other night that The Fabulous Michelle was pregnant - huge pregnant, and regal and stately as she would be. If you can imagine Queen Latifah pregnant, then white? That's The Fabulous Michelle. (I know, right?)
Last night I dreamed that Lara and I and all the kids (and I suddenly had more than just Bean, so there were a lot of little children running all over this dream) were living in this house that was owned by a couple who had just died. We were trying to convince the couple's family that we were friends of this couple and that they wanted us to continue to live in their huge, amazing house. Lara and I were going through drawers trying to learn something about them so that we would sound like we actually knew them.
At the end of the dream Lara and all the kids were gone and I was by myself walking away from the house and there was this Noro store that was closed, but through the window I could see all the yarn and also their (nonexistent) new line of fabrics. Let me just say that if that dream is any indication, Noro should TOTALLY branch out into fabrics.
I swear that I didn't eat anything strange before I went to bed last night.
And Lara? I love you and the kids, but squatting is illegal and we both have lovely houses of our own.

I swear, sometimes I think my brain is run by a fifteen year old who is getting high with her friends and saying, "You know what would be funny?"

Peep! PEEP PEEP!!!

A friend said she hadn't heard a heard a peep from me in awhile and I usually peep so she was concerned... PEEP!!
I don't have internets at home and took half-days all last week, so I haven't been responding to anyone. Sorry about that.

Wednesday night at the pool Lara's daughter E found Jeff's wedding ring. Something about the proximity to the Karma party and his birthday made this especially emotional for me. It felt like a sign. Like forgiveness. Like a completion. He did love me, and once he was good to me. He was a good man who made bad choices and refused help.
Frankly, it's easier to hate him... but that's not going to heal anything.

My interview on Thursday went really well, but is causing a tidal wave of complications for me at my full-time job. There just is no simple way for me to work full time and have a practicum and go to school. The original plan for this year was for me to go to part time and fall back on Jeff's insurance... which wasn't much of an option a year ago and is NOT AT ALL an option now. Obviously. We're working on a solution, but I spent most of Thursday crying and hopeless.
I went to Twist...
And, um, after that post about consumer fasting... I spent over $100 on yarn an needles for a wrap that I had to start righthatminute. And also a Lexie Barnes bag and some sock yarn. And maybe also some stitch markers. It was comfort shopping for comfort knitting... and it did make me feel better. Substantially better.

Friday was Final Friday and we were downtown chatting up our listeners... and eating gelato and drinking whiskey sours (my new favorite drink, thanks Shelly!!)
It was yet another round of Ex-Boyfriends On Parade... we saw "The Gay One," and while I pretended not to see him, Bean made eye-contact and he (literally) bolted from the room. He is a big, big man and until that night I had never seen him move that fast. What gives? I'm not that scary... and I was perfectly happy to just pretend I hadn't seen him at all. Oh well.

Friday was also Jeff's birthday. This time last year was our last good weekend... I'm so glad we took the trip. I am so glad to have that to hold onto as something I did for him that was exactly right. Exactly enough. He was happy for the seventy-odd hours we were in Chicago.

Saturday I tried to hide in bed with a mean ol' headache, but the station got hit by lightning (again) and The Dream Engineer needed me to come up and help with a few things. When I got home I was exhausted and hurting and generally pathetic. I took some medication and slept and slept and slept. (And with the week I'd had I probably would have holed up with some medication anyway!!)

Sunday was better. I called in sick and met some out-of-town friends for lunch and took a nap and took that bad bad man over to mom's for a swim.

And today I'm going to see Dr. N for another x-ray. I'm hoping that the foot will be healed and I can get back to yoga and walking and feeling better.