Note to Self.

Don't write blog about having crush on someone and leave computer screen open to said blog so that husband will see (and read it).  

Idiot!

5 Things on My Mind-Sunday Night Edition

1. Swine Flu

This shit reminds me reading "The Plague" by Camus when I was in college and all going through this existentialist, everything is meaningless phase.  But reading about it in a book while chain-smoking in front of your dorm and watching kids in Mexico ride bikes around wearing surgical masks are two different things.  I really don't understand this virus thing-and I don't know what to believe from the news.  Are they telling us everything, are they going overboard to keep up with the crazy-ass news cycle we have going these day, who are "they" any way?  FUCK.  Well, if I get swine flu at least I won't have to go to class.  

2. Reality programming.

It seems that everywhere you turn, if you are me, there's reality t.v.  involving some sort of prize (love/money/infamy) waiting for the contestants at the end.  I just watched the movie "Grey Gardens" inspired by the documentary "Grey Gardens"  and it's like these two women were the original-and ultimate- reality t.v. show characters.  I wonder what would have happened to them had their lives been made into a serialized television program?  Reality shows put this thin layer of cheapened slime all over pop culture-has pop culture always been slightly cheapened though?  Maybe just not as slimy.  

I don't know.  With the Internet, facebook, blogs, reality t.v., 24 hour news cycles, and texting it just seems like my mind isn't getting out and stretching its mind legs.  I zip through websites, drinking in what I can in a few minutes or less, and communicating through 5 word sentence texts to friends-too lazy to even have an actual conversation.  I can't even drag my ass off the damn couch to take a shower on weekends.  I'm too busy spoon feeding myself dribble about celebrity relationships and pandemics that may or may not occur at any second.  

The ladies that lived in Grey Gardens, although they were off their rockers and lived in a condemnable home, spent their days singing, dancing, creating costumes and stories.  Living, crazily, but living taking full advantage of their imaginations and creativity.  The most creative thing I've done lately is create a sorority avatar on facebook.  And here I am bitching about it all on my blog.  While watching narcissistic people exploit themselves on camera for my viewing pleasure.  While I blog.  And receive texts.    

3. Break-ups.  

Yeah, not the kind-of break-ups that involved cutting it off with someone you're doing it with.  Like break-ups with someone your friends with.  It's seriously one of those things I don't know how to handle.  It's like I'm growing up-and those that I've been through a lot of fun times with-It's just that we're not flying in the same direction.  I want to have one of those, "It's not you, it's me" conversations.  Because really. It is.  But who am I kidding.  I'm not any good at ending relationships.  I'm always like, I'll either still fuck you or drink with you-It's something I have to get better at.  

4. Finals, money, summer school, weight-loss.  

These 4 thoughts stream through my mind at relentless pace, streaming through all my other daily concerns, until I have one big mind fuck at the end of the day-pushing them to the back burner-balancing not going into denial about my bills and studying, but also trying to stay focused on one thing at a time.  Welcome to being an adult bitch.  It only took me like through half my 20's to get here. 

5. Insomnia. 

I cannot sleep lately.  Maybe if I showered once in awhile my weekend stench wouldn't keep me awake on Sunday nights.  

The dog doesn't know to go to bed.

My life is so lame.  But weird. And awesome.  

I'm feeling conflicted. 

I decided today that I'm going to school through the summer.  My response: 

Well, duh.  FIRST watch "the biggest loser", which is not only the best show ever, but the only redeeming show on television.  I fucking love that shit, and now I have dry eyes from crying, (which I do every week).  That show and LOST are my only two favorites and LOST is such a pile of turd, but I can't turn away.  I'm too invested and it's too satisfying. 

I met up with Steve and Ann today.  Steve is the dude that got me into law school by writing by resume and making it sound awesome (which was fairly difficult, since the most I've done is like drink alcohol and make lattes) and his wife Ann, who went to law school and now works for West publishing in a super boring job, but makes a shit ton of money.  

Steve is a chef. Ann is a lawyer.  Sort of reflects my own life.  

They've been married 30 years and made it work. BUt here's the thing.  Steve had a goal.  He not only had an undergraduate degree-he got his masters and wrote a fucking book!  My husband seems like he's just hanging out.  And I hate it when he's all depressed and music is the only thing that makes him happy.  It's a bad sign.  

He complains about the house, and the chores, and the responsibility.  Finally I was like, BABE-fuck you a million times over because I feel like I'm the one that MADE us buy this house ( I supplied the down payment) and encouraged the dog, and forced the marriage, and maybe I would like a little romance or thanks in return for basically me turning your life around from being some roommate/pot-smoking musician into a responsible home-owning husband.  

BUT maybe he didn't want that.  Maybe he wanted to be the pot-smoking roommate. 

Ahhh...I really don't think so.  I wanted to marry the dude for some reason.  Here's the thing.  

That asshole needs to reach WAY down deep and figure out what he wants to do with this one, short, sweet life.  I want him to be satisfied, fulfilled, happy.  I don't want some bump on the couch that complains all day.  

I'm moving on with my life.  figuring out what I can.  I can't hand-hold him into a sense of worth for him.   He needs to know-what can I handle-what am I able to figure out-who do I want to serve? 

Sometimes when I get pissed and frustrated, I remember.  I remember that person I fell in love with-so deeply.  Not to sound like a total asshole, but in that love I found myself.  It's amazing, but true.  I tumbled into someone that gave me permission to be myself.  It sounds so simple, but when you live it-it's unreal.  

I became myself and I wanted to marry him.  This is how I feel about marriage.  This is why EVERYONE should be legally allowed to engage in it.  

I was 100% committed to the idea of him becoming my family.  My other.  I wanted to kiss him on my honeymoon ( see above) and deal with all the administrative shit after the fact.  

Let me tell you, the " after the fact" is really what marriage is about.  

Sometimes I can't stand the look of his face, other's I want to make a pact to die together because I can't imagine living without him by my side.  

that's what long-term love is.  It's overcoming the hormonal/chemical connection (that is proven to wear off after 5 years) 

It's overcoming the momentary issues (when it's not meant to be-you know it). 

It's standing at the aisle in front of 100 family/strangers and declaring your ultimate love in front of a God you don't really believe in (but believe in enough to capitalize), an idea of commitment and sacrifice.  An idea of love that exists, not all the time, but sometimes.  In the glance, in the touch of your fingers, in paying God damn bills together.  That belief that sometimes is enough, that the sacrifice is worth it.  That at the end of the day-the only person the gives your orgasms and light and calls you on your bullshit is worth all the conflict.  

He's the one you marry in a Russian vodka bar and the one you go away with to a sheltered resort in Wisconsin.  He's the one you kiss in a photo and it doesn't seem cheesy-although if it were anyone else it would.  

In the middle of the night-when you're worried and anxious and you feel the most alone.  

Who's there? 

They are.  The ones that sleep with you.  

Unconscious, but subconsciously alert to your slightest touch and movement.  Spooning a little bit tighter, moving their leg so you can slip yours in between, loving you even though you are vulnerable-alone-afraid or unsure-holding you tight and not judging that your belly had started to spill over the edge of your pajama bottoms just a bit more.  

THEY are what you've been waiting for.  It may not always be exciting.  

It make not always be romantic.  

But it is real-and it is you-and it is them.  

It is a kiss on a honeymoon  declaring-I am yours-no matter what.  

Beyond that-What is there? 

Sunday at Home.

I can't believe how goofy my husband is.  And the dog is always all over him-like attached to him by the head or paw or belly always.  Gawd.  She's so cute. After I write this I'm going sneak back into bed between the two of them and scratch her ears.   

I was so looking forward to spending the summer with them.  SO SO SO!  Instead, I've decided to take 8-10 credits over my "break" and graduate a semester early.  Why?  I'm not sure if it's stupid yet, and probably won't know until I've actually done it, but at this point if feels like a no-brainer.  The classes are easier, 2 classes are done in 1 WEEK!, and I'll be able to get the fuck out of there.  Seriously.  I can't live like a student anymore.  It's my 27th birthday this year, and I cannot imagine waiting until I'm 28 to actually get my license and start practicing.  I've been doing this shit since I was 23.  It's taking forever!  I want to get this show on the road.  

That means another 3 months of not seeing the dog and the husband.  No wonder she's so attached to him. 

I am thrilled about spending a weekend at the end of May at Fitgers (we have a 2 for 1 coupon for being member of MPR-Sweet).  I love Duluth in the spring-and Dustin's band is playing with a group called Too Many Banjos (?) and a magician (Gob Bluth?)  at Luce.   As long as I'm able to walk by the lake and shop and have brunch and bloody mary's on Sunday morning-I'm happy.  The week after that I'll be starting all over again.  I just have to hold onto the things I'm looking forward to and attempt to put a positive spin on the things I'm not.  Sometimes, I think I'm crazy when I see other people with jobs and lives and no school debt.  FUCK!  I guess I just wouldn't know any other way to live.  Even if it's totally dumb.  

Wow. Seriously.

I hope it is infinitely clear that the blog directly below this one was written while...well...smashed.  I had no idea how ridiculous it was until my sister insisted on reading it aloud to me while we both laughed out loud-tears streaming down my cheeks at least.  

I feel I at least owe it to whomever reads this blog to update while at least partially in my right mind.  

I went to the psychic.  It was an interesting experience.  One I know I'll repeat again.  I'm not really sure she gave me any new information, but she confirmed things that I already knew.  That was something-right? 

Also, GD it all to hell. I have a freaking high school crush on someone-WHAT a freaking joke.  I'm so embarrassed about it-but it's also kind-of fun-but mostly embarrassing.  I'm like totally not mature enough to have a platonic relationship with a man.  I have to be all dumb about.  Maybe because ultimately I'm just looking for a father figure.  

But ultimately my husband is home and I know his arms are the only ones I belong in-momentary crushes aside.  

Good night sweet blog readers.  I have to get my cuddle on. 

I feel.

I feel that, as women, we've been too dainty of fingers and light of toes.  

Too beautiful as we come and too beautiful as we go. 

Competitive facing and nothing to show. 

As women we are too light as they come and too light as they go.  

I lay next to my husband and he doesn't know.  

We are too light as we come and too heavy as we grow.  

To take care of it all and to let nothing of it show. 

To be willing, and grateful, and open and down low...

We are...we

As much as I've referenced light...that's what I mean.  LIGHT.  I only see it in women...but I only experience it in women.  and no one say it like she....Maya Angelou

we are...

Coming down from my week.

Whew.  That was a tough week.  Time change, Friday the 13th, realizing that work isn't always wonderful.  

I'm growing up  just in time for my brain to start slowing down.

I was helped along immensely by the chicken nuggets with truffles at the Bulldog N.E., 3 pints of beer, and beautiful weather.  

I stopped by an old friend's house on  Friday and looking through an old photo album realized that things weren't how I remembered them.  Or, at least weren't how he remembered them.  It made me feel strangely nostalgic and somewhat gratified.  Ended up having to take a taxi back home from Northeast though.  That made me feel like a cheap hooker.

My girlfriends and I went to breakfast on Saturday.  I love breakfast.  One of us has gotten a huge pay raise (not me!) Huge.  Like more than our parents make big.  The other is as fabulous and lovely as usual.  

I feel like I reconnected with a lot of things this weekend.  My past, myself, my dog, my husband.  Although, we did bicker today-even while we walked the dog-and now that he's as practice and I've had three hours off from him I'm starting to miss him.  

I made some more snotty remarks to my step-mother in law on Facebook because she is against medical marijuana-like testifying at the capital against it.  I just don't understand a. why anyone rational person would take that stance and b. why it bothers me so much.  Anyway, I had unfriended her on Facebook just to avoid this type of issue and now, not only did she friend me again (I had to accept it-what else can I do?) now her sister is trying to friend me as well.  GAWD when will my big mouth stop getting me in trouble.  Now I'm causing drama trauma with a fucking bunch of 50 year olds over legalizing medical cannabis.  My husband thinks I'm alienating our future children's grandparents and that I just like the sound of my own voice.  Shrug.  He's probably right on both counts.  I guess we just get along anyway.  Reading that paragraph over again makes me realize how desperately pathetic I am sometimes.

I'm seeing a psychic/medium tomorrow.  CRAZY!  For an hour.  I have to make a list tonight, after I take a bath, about all of the things I want to ask about.  I'm actually really looking forward to it.  I'll update about it here if it's not too boring.  Oh, even if it is I'll update.  

Now, I must go shut the window, shave my legs, figure out dinner, write my psychic list, and begin obsessively calling my husband to see when he's getting done with practice.  

I love spring.