Sacrifice and Grace

I have a love-love relationship with my hair. It is thick and soft and shiny.
I like to hide behind it and run my fingers through it and I almost never put any kind of product in it because I love the way it moves on its own.

My hair has been long enough to sit on and as short as a boy's and every length in between. I've had bangs and no bangs. It's been all one length and layered almost mercilessly. I have had a perm or two - but not for almost 20 years. It has been every shade of red: an almost black-purple, fiery orange, dark magenta, auburn. It has been highlighted and low-lighted and been the test-dummy for countless color technique classes.

When I got married the first time and we had less than no money I actually cried the first time I had to buy shampoo at the grocery store. I felt guilty for treating it so badly.

The main drawbacks of my hair are that it refuses to hold a curl and if I don't wash it every day it is greasy and horrible. Really? All things considered? Those are not things that are difficult to manage. I love the smell of shampoo and the soft weight of hair on my face when I sleep.

It is the one thing about myself that I have never been unhappy with.

Every boy I've ever loved has loved my hair... one boy loved it so much that when he left me I cut it all off. When he saw me next he got this look of grief on his face and unconsciously reached out a hand toward the ends of what was left before I took a step backwards and he remembered he wasn't supposed to touch me. It felt good that something I did affected him because for most of our relationship nothing seemed to. It made me wish I'd shaved it off just to intensify that.

But that would have been crazy. It would have been crazy to shave my head for any boy...
But...
Someone I love is sick.
Someone I love more than the comfort of the glossy swing of my hair.
Someone I love has had tests and surgeries and more tests and waiting.
Someone I love will be fine, but the road to fine is long and bumpy and scary.

I would take on all of it for her if I could. I would fix it. Fix. It.
But I can't. I can't make it better or change it. But I can sacrifice the one thing about myself I love the most so that someone I love doesn't have to be bald by herself.
She is so brave and amazing and I am so scared and small.

It is not about me. It is not even about the hair really. I know that this sacrifice is infinitesimally small compared to her experience of her illness and recovery.
This is merely a gesture, dramatic as it may be.
My hair will grow back - and in my experience it will grow back quickly. This time next year will probably look very much as it does right this second. And while she will absolutely recover, emotionally this will take more time for her. And I don't even know how to help her with that. I don't remember how the healing of my own emotional trauma began two years ago, but I do know that I am still not healed. Better. But not healed.

I practiced today with scarves. I've looked online for instructions about tying them.

I hope when the time comes to make this sacrifice I will handle it as gracefully and beautifully as she has handled the last few months. I hope this gesture - dramatic but small - will offer some kind of comfort to her.

What's New??

Um.... nothing.

My life continues in its little figure eight.
Nothing really to report these days... work and home and home and work...
Home could be cleaner, work could be less hectic, but all in all things are just stable.
Weird.

I am almost finished with the Destroyed Cowl, though I'm in that black hole of knitting where I knit and knit and knit and it doesn't seem to get much bigger. That's frustrating because I really want to get to the dropping stitches part. That's my favorite bit of the Clapotis, so I imagine I'll like it as much with this one.

Bean and I are doing well at home... she spent Valentine's day in Oklahoma with her dad. She usually has a good time with them, but it's so nice for both of us when she comes home. She is so independent, it's nice to know that she wants to hang out with me even when she doesn't have to!

I've been reading a little bit... The Children's Book was the last Literary Feast book and I liked it a lot. I'm also reading Committed. It's weird for me after ten years in radio to have a job where I can't read or knit regularly. I do get a lot of audio book listening done... but there is relatively no literary value to the book I'm listening to right now.

AND work is good... we continue to have completely inappropriate conversations at work. Tuesday, for example, we discussed phone sex, Ben Wa balls and "who would you do for ten million dollars?" (My answer was, "All y'all, just show me the money and line the fuck up." Because I'm classy like that). And I am not the most inappropriate person in the group. Seriously.

So I'm off to take a bath and read a little.

Valentine's Day

I am alone this year... and you'd think that would be a bad thing. Depressing and lonely...
Last year I thought I had someone who loved me, and that someone bought me roses and a big stuffed gorilla... and then couldn't take me out ON Valentine's day because he was taking his actual girlfriend (who he claimed was just a friend) to see a comedian. Oh, and he needed Bean to babysit.
Oh yes. My child babysat. While he took his real girlfriend out. On Valentine's day.
That was the beginning of the end of that relationship.
I know.
That should have been the end of the end. But I think I just needed to see how far he would let it go. The answer to that was pretty fucking far, but that is a whole nother story and mostly I'm trying to just letitgo. Something along the lines of "once bitten, twice shy, third time use a taser."

So you'll maybe understand why this year has been so much better.

Friday night I had what turned out to be the best date I've been on in YEARS. He was attentive and funny and engaging and we talked and laughed until 2am... at which point he went home to his husband and I went home to the cats. Bean has been trying to tell me that we needed a gay boyfriend to complete our lives. And I do live this guy. He was one of my favorite teachers when I was getting my Master's and now he's becoming a good friend. Love that.

Saturday I went to Twist, and bought the yummiest yarn to start my Destroyed Cowl. Its Mochi Plus - worsted version of the oh so lovely Mini Mochi.

Of course I also had to buy the matching Mini Mochi to make socks to match... I'm thinking it might be possible to make a "destroyed sock," but I'm still in the planning stages of that one. I'll let you know.
I had heard from others who made this cowl that it becomes tedious - as 45 inched of stockinette can. I'm almost half way through it and so far I'm still having a great time. Maybe it's the color changes, or maybe it's because I am just feeling peaceful, but I'm still loving this and I can't wait for the magic of the organized destruction at the end.

Then I had dinner with Deb and Katie - and we laughed and talked and ate the BEST chocolate cake I've had in a long time... It was so big and so good that I had to take the rest home. I also bought myself a lovely little Valentine's present. No flowers or boxes of chocolates - those will be half price tomorrow anyway. I bought the little mini laptop that I have been wanting, and I love it as much as I thought I would. It's perfect and light and has a little Bluetooth USB thingy that allows it to connect to the internets through my Blackberry.
LoveLoveLove.

Today I went to the used book store, grocery shopping, cleaned and watched In Bruges, Sin Nombre and Live Free or Die Hard...
And worked on my cowl.
And ate my leftover cake.
For lunch I had crusty bread with butter and honey and apples and Havarti.

In a little while I'm going to take a long, hot bath and read a book.
It really is all about the love.

In the Dark and Snow

I don't think it's over-dramatizing things to sat that my drive to work this monrning was terrifying. That's looking back now, after 5 hours have passed and there is light outside.

I needed to be in my office by 7:00, so I woke up at 5:30. You know me, unless I'm still up at 5:30 I don't want to be anywhere near awake at 5:30.

It was snowing and dark and the roads were covered with snow. There wasn't solid ice, but the slushiness of the asphalt made it slick, and I had a big green sled when I was a child that had better traction than my big green truck. The biggest issue was the falling snow. It wasn't heavy, really, but in the dark snow is a whole other beast. The way it was blowing - slanting to the right without any light but my headlights made me feel dizzy and a little disoriented at times, and for most of the drive the center lines were covered so I couln't even find my bearings at times. I was really afraid I was going to just drive right off the road into a field.

I slowed down and turned my radio off and kept breathing.

I was afraid to pull over - what if someone slid and hit me? I was afraid to pull off the highway - what if fear and panic wouldn't let me get back on?

I kept thinking, "I don't know how much longer I can do this." And I meant I didn't know how much longer this morning I could continue to force myself to keep driving. And I meant I don't know how much longer I can continue to make this drive... I know that I either need to move closer to work or work closer to home.

And I think I also meant that I am tired and the sadness that had lifted in early fall is starting to close in again and it makes me so physically tired. This morning in my car in the dark and the snow I wanted more than anything to go back to those dark days of last summer when I couldn't get out of bed. And feeling nostalgic about that was scarier than the weather.

I guess I just take it slow and careful like I did this morning. Keep breathing and stay between the lines as much as possible. Find the quiet and the calm... and avoid the trucks that thunder past, spraying me with mud and ice.

Except That I'm Too Tired to Breathe

So the good news is that I didn't have to use any of my precious few "PTO" hours for my sick day last week.
The bad news is that I have been working marathon hours. And not entirely on purpose. I even dream about clients. Seriously. All night. You'd think I could get some time off while I'm in my jammies at least!!

I don't even have a coherent narrative of what I did today... I know my day started with hastily gulped coffee for strength on my way to an appointment with one client and ended with an lesson to another client on how to use Amazon.com to buy used Sweet Valley High books (a lesson which I am uniquely qualified to teach). Somewhere in the middle I had to coax another client onto the bus by pretending to play "Red Rover" with him. And there was Valentine Bingo and dodge ball (heh heh, oh yeah). And there were several hours of paperwork and phone calls.

Tomorrow morning I have to get up and do it all over again.

And I'm too tired to breathe.

I'm not complaining, really. Four jobless months let me know that I am lucky to have this job. And I love it... but I do need to get a handle on my schedule. Even if I hadn't needed to make up 8 hours I would have been working these hours just because of how appointments were scheduled. I don't want to burn out. And I need to be home in the evenings before 8.

I also need to organize my kitchen and shopping list so that I can embrace all things Crock-pot.

Bean has been a real trooper. Last night I was back in time for her concert, so I haven't ENTIRELY abandoned her to the wolves. (Or, you know, cats).

I need a snack and I need a pillow.

What a week.

One of my clients died suddenly in her sleep, so the entire week felt surreal and gasping. I've only been at the company for four months (holy cats has it only been four months?!?) but I had a lot of one on one time with her. She was funny and caring and sweet and I am lucky that I got to know her. Tomorrow is the funeral, so I'm heading back to Mac in the morning. She had just survived cancer... and she had a cold last week, but otherwise appeared to be fine. Some of my coworkers had known her for more than ten years, so it's been rough on everyone.

I was also sick this week, sick enough to take the day off on Thursday. M died on Tuesday and all day I felt like I was going to throw up. The shock of it, and the increased adrenaline. Wednesday morning my head ached and my arms and legs felt leaden. I attributed this to grief... and the absolute last thing I wanted to do was face the other clients. My responsibility was to comfort them and help them through it... but I just didn't feel like I had the energy to deal with it.

Wednesday when I got home I made dinner (french bread and mozzarella grilled cheese with marinara sauce - my nummy twist on grilled cheese and tomato soup) and then went right to bed. Seriously. At 7:30.

When I woke up on Thursday my head was pounding and I was dizzy and everything hurt. I rarely call in sick - I don't have enough leave built up, and losing 8 hours somehow puts me more than 8 hours behind. But I slept and I slept and I slept, and then I had a restorative Icee from Walgreens... I do SO love Walgreens, and now they're even better what with the Icees and all.

This morning I felt better - not quite 100%, but good enough to make it through meetings and the metric ton of paperwork involved in the death of a client. Since I have to be in Mac tomorrow anyway I'm going to work a few make-up hours. While I hate working on Saturdays it will keep next week from kicking my ass!!

So laundry tonight... it's such a glamorous life I lead.

Potential

I am a relatively happy person.
(Shut up, I am too).
I have a great kid, my friends are amazing, I love my job. I am proud of my accomplishments... I am busy more or less every weekend. I have a full, lovely life.

So why do I suddenly feel validated just because there is a boy who is flirting with me?? It just seems so wrong. So "Young and the Restless." So pathetic.

But I can't help it... he's smart and funny and sweet and adorable. Sigh.

I have found that there's a difference between potential relationships at 24 and 34:
24 says, "Wow. If this goes the way I think it will this guy could be the one. Maybe we'll get married and have lots of sex and babies!"
34 says, "Wow. If this goes the way I think it will this guy could be the one I finally buy a duplex with. Because I do NOT want to share living space with a boy. But next door would be convenient for spider smashing, movie watching and sex."

Before those of you who are rooting for my sex life get too excited let me just say that nobody is having sex at this point. This is all just flirtation and conjecture.

We have been friends for a thousand years but somehow he does not violate the "no relationships with boys I went to high school with" OR the "no relationships with anyone I've dated before" rules. Also, he's never been in the military and we don't work together...

I'll keep you posted.