Tales from the Laundromat: Part III

Or is that... Tales of the Homeless at the Laundromat??

I'm starting to think I'm a bigot: everyone at the laundromat seems homeless to me. Although today's guy again had a shopping cart, a 40 oz. beer, and... of all things: a new jacket and a CD player. He couldn't get the CD player to work and I ended up giving it a thorough once-over with my trouble-shootin' eye. Perfection.

You know... it always amazes me what these people without homes, have in their little carts. Like a shaving kit and freshly washed clothes. A little house-on-wheels. Their priorities to buy (I'm guessing he bought it) CD players and batteries... Tunes, but no home to play them in.

Poverty makes me sick. People who are not employable and living out on the street makes me sick. What The Hell Happened in Sacramento, to MAKE THEM CLOSE ALL OF THE RESCUE MISSIONS???? It's not the fault every homeless person that they are on the street. Some are mentall ill. Some are addicts.

For a state of liberals, I have to say: SHAME ON YOU FOR LETTING THIS BE THE STATUS QUO.

FYI: I'm not taking responsibility yet, because I've only been in the state for a few months. But Dot ain't gonna take this lying down.

Peace, and Happy New Year.

Dot.

Gasp!

Ginger was taller than Fred. Can you believe it? I never knew. Must've watched them 100 times together and never noticed.

M.W. and I dance together every time we're in the same house. We move together so perfectly, and I started thinking we might look foolish if on a dance floor. But no.... if Ginger can be taller than Fred, Dorothy can be taller than M.W.

Grin.

New Roses on the Square, and Life in Black and White

New Roses:
Walking through Chavez Square yesterday, I noticed new roses on the vine! They're dark and beautiful, and blooming any day. Year-round roses here? Guess so. Life is so full of wonderment and renewal!
(thanks, Jesus, for duckies!)

Life in Black and White:
Few people have the luxury to live this way. Namely children and the unbroken, the naive, the innocent. My folks are wonderful people, but they have purposely chosen a life of naivete' so as to remain as pure as humanly possible. But they have a great deal of compassion for those of us who, by choice or by force, have ended up "in the world".

As a little kid, I thought my folks were simps. In other words... I thought they didn't know any better... that they were too inept to realize that there was a whole cool world out there. Now I've gone off on this grand adventure (yeah, right), I've seen a lot of the world. Family and friends have this image of "Dorothy" that is irrepressable, successful, and apparently I'm the town darling. And yet I'm still lonely here, I'm still confused about the future. Making the conscious decision to not be an "innocent" one was a lot more criticle than I ever knew. But it wasn't light -- I've always known that my life would be different.

Honestly, for those of you who identify with me: now that you know better and are trying to be better in life... don't you feel like since you made the bad choices and were put in unfornuate circumstances... don't you feel like it's now your job to help others get out of that place? Cause I sure do. And also, God loves each and every one of us. He has never betrayed us as we do Him.

Lil' Kim is an adult who lives in black and white. She harshly judges those who do not stand up to her morals. I used to do that. Now I understand. But she's an "innocent" and probably always will be. She is precious in every light and has the sweetest heart ever.

... just wish she'd give up the death-grip on everyone doing everything the "right" way.

Peace for the New Year.

Dot.

"You's People Too": Laundromat Adventures Part II

This happened a few weeks ago, but I'm just remembering it now. Again, set in the local Fluff-n-Fold, again, with a homeless or near-homeless man who approached me.

Now I'm not uppity, upper or middle or whatever class. And I'm not suffering from a superiority or inferiority complex, or what-have-you. Just callin' it like I see it. And here's the way I see it:

Ton's of people do suffer from feeling inferior. They spend their whole lives being sorry for who they are, what they are, and even eating, walking, and talking apologetically. Take my former M-i-L, Listless Landra.

Listless Landra had a good heart but a rat-bastard of a husband, my former F-i-L, Jerky Jerome. He was overbearing. He totally exploited her goodness to his end: the Almighty Buck. She had hopes, goals, dreams in life. When I met her -- mid 40's, I noticed that everyone treated her terribly, including my ex. Her shoulders were shrugged, she secretly ate chocolates and cupcakes and chips at all hours of the day and night. Getting fatter by the day, she started to lash out at all of us. Then, somewhere along the line, she was broken. She started to cover her mouth when she ate, like a teenager wearing braces. Only she didn't have braces... she just let life defeat her.

So back to our homeless (or nearly so) guy at the Fluff-n-Fold... he was polite to everyone, making conversation about the weather and sports and so on. Sometimes it breaks my heart that God chose to make some people smarter or more gifted than others. All of the missed and wasted opportunities and that they don't know Vivaldi's Four Seasons or have tasted shrimp cocktail and Champagne. Or that they haven't read John Grisham or Kurt Vonnegut, or they don't know who Coldplay or Train is. Perhaps, just perhaps, they may use grammar better than me. Grin.

I chatted briefly with this man as I put clothes in the wash. Listened to him make general conversation with others, and then walked the wet clothes over to the dryer. Apparently I was in his way, because he stood about 3 feet to the right of me. I looked up and said "Sorry." It makes me feel bad to inconvenience people. Even when I'm doing something I have to do.

The man gave me a "some-r" teeth smile and said "You's People Too..'

The Grace that he was capable of giving to me was more than I was capable of that day. And I'm the one who's been given all this other Grace and gifts and Mercy. Hardly deserving!

I've been wondering why, and wondering what to do about that. And it just occurred to me that it's my signal to get off my fat butt and do some good for my fellow man, rather than sit here and feel unworthy about it.

From the book Skeleton Man by Tony Hillerman, a Native American tells this to the sheriff, about "white people" wearing and owning diamonds, or anything else of excess: "They collect these things to prove that they are better at being greedy than their friends." Ain't that the truth.

Kinda makes me want to live off the land, on a hillside in a grass hut.

Roses still Bloom in Chavez Square...

Okay okay... the roses in Chavez Square were finally gone last week. But folks... if you're in a place that winter lives... you totally understand my utter amazement vis a vis acceptance that it rains in California rather than snow -- there's roses and camilla in bloom rather than ice-icles (sp?). The hills have turned green again (from brown in July through November). Sigh. I still love it here.

Christmas night was wonderful: bottles of Champagne', bottles of Wine, and roast goose. Family, friends and loved ones. Presents thoughtful and extravigant.

Am I the only one who feels unworthy?

Alright... okay. I'm convinced that I the only thing I need on Christmas is my family. Frankly, I have a good job and can pretty much buy everything I want. (Even though some things are saved for Boyfriend, because I ain't buyin' myself diamonds -- that's his job!). Boyfriend and I talked about not exchanging gifts next year... because we really do feel bad that everyone goes off and spends and spends... and there are so many people who actually Need stuff and we know that we don't.

Next year, we're going to Costa Rica and work at a Mission for Spring break. Then, to build houses in Mexico and not exchange gifts with one-another at Christmas. But lil K has already announced that she will buy us gifts, because that's what she wants to do for the holidays.

Kiss kiss. Hug Hug!

Happy Holidays.

Dot.

Feeling Better and Happy Holidays!

1) I hate hormones! Started a new pill last month and thought I was going nuts. Turns out that changing pills can actually make me have less mood swings. Imagine if you will: a day where I don't freak out!

2) Headed out in an hour. A Merry Christmas and a Happy and Prosperious New Year to each of you.

Peace,

Dot.

Hey

I'm hurting really bad and need prayers for guidance and peace.

Dot.

Stevie Ray...

Stevie Ray Vaughn died way too young. But he does to my heart with an electric guitar, what Kenny G does with a saxophone.

It's like all of the nerve endings in my whole body are blissed out at once!

Let's raise a glass for Stevie. Damn good.

Dot.

It just hit me....

Was reading today's "Purpose Driven Life" which talks about Grace and Mercy.

Grace is getting something that you don't deserve. (like God's Love)

Mercy is not getting what you do deserve. (like God's Wrath)

But I think that as humans, we have the capacity for Grace and Mercy as well. I'm being a selfish idiot, so please pray for me if you will, while I take a break from being high strung, and realize what a gift I have, for being healthy and alive and having a good job.

I'm such a rube sometimes too.
(in the words of our cousin Markus "oh Lord please forgive me")...

Peace.
Dot.

Dorothy's Got the Christmas Blues...

Although I'll never sound as blue-sy as ol' Bing pounding out the Christmas Blues, my heart holds the same kind of mellow hue. Reading Christmas Cards from friends takes me from the height of happiness when I read the little tomes... to the depths of sad when I rue how alone I am in my life.

My good friends sent a card that they are opening a custard and cocoa stand. A friend from college sent her new business card with a prestigious title from a national firm. My sister is an amazing knittress (crochetress just sounded gross). My boyfriend's son got married. His daughter got a job. Heck... I got a job and moved halfway across the country. But that doesn't mean much when you got the Chritmas Blues...

Know what? My first Christmas after the separation was like this. Laughing to Crying and then laughing again. Last year I was numb from the anti-depressants. Geez! I'm kinda mad at myself because if I'm a good little girl and stay busy and stuff.... I can just tough it out until there are people around who love me.

By the way: why is it that when we feel threatened, we tend to shit where we sleep? (Sorry for the drama today, M.W.... maybe it's the rain, maybe it's the alone. I miss you, dang-it!).

Okay, Before You Judge me for being an IDIOT...

I swear I'm not going crazy. But don't you HATE waiting, when you don't know what you're waiting for?

Emotional meltdowns are my "New Black"

Back in the day we used to make fun of fashionistas in the fall, saying "Pink is the new black" meaning, "universal". Like, "everyone's doing it"...

Emotions are running high for me lately. Damn PMS for amplifying my already rocky emotional state! I can't help that I'm jumping up and down, crying and screaming inside for attention.

True, I'm not acting like an adult... but who does, when they fear that their relationship is stagnating, or slowing down? Yeah, yeah... everyone is busy and everyone has tons of plans that don't revolve around me. I just wish that I felt like I mattered in the scheme of things.

Like everyone has houses and neighborhoods, and spouses and kids and families and plans and Plans.... and they don't want/feel the need to -- share. I think it's the "Cry of the 30 year-old Single Person". I'm not the only one who feels this way... either you're a couple or you're not. And if not, you're too old for the singles scene and too young for the retirement scene.

There's a chance that I'm overreacting (in fact, a big chance)... but I'm really tired of feeling like one part or another part of my life is on hold! First it was my job, now my job is in good standing and my personal life feels like the dusty water from last night on the night-table.

Bleh... Cottonmouth.

Merry Christmas, whether alone or part of a family or "family" or just pretending...

Dot.

Landing on my own two Feet

Just over two years ago, when I began this blog... Every day felt like I'd just landed on the ground, from some decade-long trip to another planet. For some reason, today seemed like that too.

Coming back to myself, I think it's called. I'm starting to meet folks here in California, and starting to really wonder what I want out of my future.

Over the past 4 months, I've compiled a list of things which I will require from a partner, should I decide to go down that road again. At first the list was compiled out of feeling defenseless. Not that it's a prenup or anything.... but a girl has to know where she stands, right?

Anyways, after looking at my list tonight, a guy would really have to love me to even stay with me after reading it. Mostly my list has to do with things that I will do and that I expect my partner to do or not do.

On the bland side, I state that I alone will pay off my student loans from college and that I will not taking anything of his and he will not take anything of mine. On the controversial side... he is required attend at least one trip with me per year, to see my family (don't I deserve to be happy?) and I will consult him before making any purchase over $200 (don't we deserve to stay within our budget?). And the amorous side? No less than 10 minutes of kissing and cuddling per day and 2 <> 6 times per week. Additionally, any of these terms can be re-negotiated at our monthly "State of the Union" meeting.

Clearly I won't be making any extra friends with the way I feel. But damn it! There is so much to be had out of life, if we stop the conjecture and start with the livin'!

Come on.. time's a-wastin!

-Dot.

P.S. I'm an inpatient being this evening. My instinct is to re-race all that I've written and then apologize... but I am not in the habit for apologizing my true feelings. -- D.

Laundromat Misadventures

Part 1:

Homeless man had a Christmas Wreath lashed to his shopping cart, not unlike some people do to their SUVs.

Part 2:

Said homeless man actually smelled better than smelly Zeke that came to see me at work a few weeks back! EEWWwww!

Part 3:

The really scuzzy man sitting next to me was wearing $300 shoes!

Part 4:

The owner, Marcie, is a really old-school earth momma with a prairie skirt and chenille stockings, complete with ducky boots. I love her lack of style!

My Secret Crush... Captain Von Trapp!

During my latest watching of the Sound of Music, I realized that I've seen it more often than the origin of the namesake of this blog (Wizard of Oz). Both movies I love... but baby, there's only one tall, dark, and handsome Georg Von Trapp! Plus.. he sings, he dances, and he's got a place in his heart for short-haired girls!

Even though the blond-haired Baroness is a bit stuffy... I always thought she was beautiful and pretty much wanted to be her. LOL.

Can't think of anything better on a cold and rainy night, than remembering my girlhood crush on the head of the family Von Trapp (movie edition). Sigh.

Peace.

Dot.

Merry Christmas from Dorothy!

Adrenaline Rush

At 1:10 yesterday morning, I was rudely awakened by a skittering of an out-of-control automobile rambling down the street. Crash! Bang! Boom! Hooooooonnnnnnnkkkk!

After my heart started beating again, I peeked out the blinds. Two people were walking down the street in their pajamas trying to find out what had happened. I ended up staying awake until 2:00 because it was such an unwelcome rush.

My flight is at 9 this morning. Prayers are desired, as I'm quite the nervous flyer. In fact, I'll be encountering three airports that I've never been to before.

Peace.

Dot.

A List of Perfect Days

Childhood
5-6 years old: the day I learned to ride a bike... metallic blue with a flag seat
7 years old: the day Daddy sat on the porch swing with me and made me be not so afraid of the lightening
9 years old: the day I was told that I could make a living, studying and forecasting the weather.

Teens
14 years old: my first kiss
17 years old: the day with the perfect bathing suit, perfect jeans, and "jet noise" t-shirt at the Air National Guard Base.

Twenties
20 years old: my first trip to a city without my folks, Toronto, learning that I did not have to follow parental rules any longer.
26 years old: listening to my plastic surgeon tell me that the cancer was gone.
27 years old: the day I got my first job in meteorology

Thirties
30 years old: The day I moved out from my ex... shopping for a twin bed and new sheets ... the light outside, the coolness, and my aching heart starting to heal.
32 years old: Hearing M.W. tell someone that this was the best year of his life (good business, great girlfriend, etc.)

I'm sure there were other days, but these are the best untainted ones.

Off to get a haircut.... let's hear it: should I post a pic???

Peace.
Dot.

It's Only Because I Know How Bad It Can Be....

Last night I kinda freaked out: M.W. has been a little different (the better kind) lately, and it freaked me out. Girls, you know what I mean -- everyone always says that if their s.o. is fooling around, that they noticed some changes before $h!7 hit the fan. His kisses seem sweeter, touches softer, and generally, all-around better.

And I was a jerk last night. After some tequila. (Does tequila do that to everyone? Either make them cuddly if with someone, or ready to fight -- or cry -- if they're alone?). He is like, the most popular person I know, and he's going out to dinner every night this week. And so I got jealous and asked him if he wanted someone else!!!! I am an idiot.

So why can't I trust?
Because of what I mentioned in the title. Essentially, I know how emotionally untrustworthy I had been before I met my ex-husband. And when things were going downhill with him, I had a number of emotional "things" (I hesitate to call them relationships, because these were not individuals I had ever met in life) with people.

Now that I am living my life 100% in the light of day... my suspicions run wild. A friend did that to me when she went legit, as well.

Let me apologize to M.W. for being a jerk. And let me say how pleased I am to be proud of my life, in front of everyone. It's a contant struggle to build up my self-esteem, knowing the place from whence I came.

But ain't we all just works in progress?

dot.

Adventures with Ms Thang

Adventures with Ms. Thang (including why she has such a low self-opinion).

In high school, they all lined up and duked it out, deciding amongst themselves, who was going to date her next. A few times, she was tricked into going out with one, by the guy whose place was after that one… just so his turn would come up sooner. Once, she skipped a guy on down the line, and he did his best to make her life a living hell for his last semester.

Something happened to Ms. Thang in college. She thought she was in love, thought she would stay in Michigan for the rest of her life. So she gave up on adventure, preferring instead, to cook meals for her groom, work to pay his way through college, and suffer through more cold winters than she could ever care to do.

Instead of a boring life, she felt like someone was standing behind her with a hot poker, threatening all kinds of pain if she didn’t get on with her life (damn it!), go back to school, get the career of her dreams, become a mommy, live on a ranch with animals for the kids… you know… the “American Dream”, as it were.

And back to school she went, so driven to do the right thing; she barely took the time to have fun! Someone inspired her to go farther from home than she ever thought possible… Well, it was a mix of cancer and someone wonderful, which helped her to realize that the world is big, but that you can always have adventures and still come home.

So she suffered through a decade of that marriage, and became what most would term a woman as the B word (she’s proud of it… because powerful men are called “respectable” so in her eyes, “Bitch” means “Respectable”). But it still hurts her feelings.

Now she’s 1500 miles away from “before” and 2000 miles away from “beginning”… but it’s close to her heart. Three things happened to Ms. Thang today, that made her wonder if she’s still “got it” like she did in school. Oh no no… she’s not interested in the line-up… but it still made her smile.

But why is she insecure? Because everyone always fails eventually… right? The fear of having faith in what she wants sometimes paralyzes her. Just today, she tried breaking out of the box, and she found out that the box had been laid in dog-poo. Great. It was counteracted by other good things, so today is a wash.

Seriously though: how does she create faith? A thought skittered across her mind:

“Friendship, Love and Fidelity”…

Fates Worse Than Death...

I ripped off the title of a Kurt Vonnegut novel. BTAIM, here are a list of fates worse than death:

1) Being subjected to hours worth of "conversation" with a retiree who everyone was glad to see go. Think "About Schmidt"... the Jack Nicholson flick -- the part where he goes back to the office after retiring.

2) Eating Sushi and/or asparagus. Plus, asparagus and/or coffee pee.

3) Contemplating a future, alone. As in, a future of "alone-a-tude".

4) Warts

Okay, okay, warts aren't really that bad... but they do suck, right?

Anyways, number 1 is the only one that happened to me today. I have this nasty habit though, of walking the bane of my existance to the door and shuttling them off to lunch. Everyone knows I always walk home to lunch... so as this guy walked to the train-station, I doubled back around the building and took the foot-path to K Street for lunch. Hahahahaha.... It's fun to pretend that you're Sydney Bristow!!!

Just don't tell anyone I said so.

Peace.

Secret Agent X-9

Far From Home: The Cranberry Relish Saga (part I)

I am the sole purveyer of the Family Cranberry Relish recipe, from my generation. Grandpa Hubbard gave it to me on his death bed. Literally. Like a week before he died, he told me the secret ingredient.

See, my mom makes cranberry-orange relish, but it's not the same as Grandpa's Cranberry-? Relish. Sorry Mom: it just wasn't. And everyone knows it. So about 10 years ago when I got the recipe, I became the One to Make It.

The problem? To get the right consistency, one must use a meat grinder and NOT a blender or food processor to make the cranberries smaller. I haven't had a meat grinder in 10 years. But M.W. gave me his mixer a few weeks ago. IT HAS A MEAT GRINDER!!! Imagine the happitude and glee it gave me to know that this Thanksgiving, we'll have Grandpa Hubbard's Cranberry-? Relish!!!!

That was a few weeks ago. This is now. We're having our Turkey-day on Saturday, tomorrow. I just finished the Relish, but not without complications.

Suffice it to say for now, that no one was killed, no one went to the hospital. And there is an in-tact, servable portion of Cranberry-? Relish in the fridge. But that's all I can say..

Ha.

Dot.

Sunday-Night Must See Part 2: Run Fast, Run Far, And, Independence Day

Gray's Anatomy is now my favorite show. Not that I don't love DH, still... but one has to admit that Bree's problems would never happen in real life. Imagine if you will: a man forces a diamond ring on your hand and blows up your male friend's car when you dance with him. Ain't gonna happen in real life.

Meredith, on the other hand, is still smarting from her all-too-brief tryst with Derrick, while he looks to be having Sex with his Ex. My guess is... it's one last time "just to make sure"... By the end of the season, he'll leave Mrs. Dr. Sheppard for good.

Independence Day
As given by the lyrics to the chorus of the Martina McBride song
by the same name:

let freedom ring, let the white dove sing
let the whole world know that
Today is a day of reckoning
let the weak be strong, let the right be wrong
roll the stone away, make the guilty pay,
it’s independence day

Both M.W. and I share this date as our collective and respective days of Independence. It was a coincidence, but the retrospective of two years ago today was noted just a few days before the first posting of This Blog. I went into my details to a morbid degree... and some things were skated over in lieu of posting them to This Other Blog which is full of venom (my throat tastes like bile, just thinking about it), questioning, and self-and-ex-loathing.

Raise your glass and raise your voice -- Here's to women and men everywhere, whose lives have been hijacked from them by their alleged "significant other". Here's to their hurting and sad hearts, that they may find a way back to themselves (hopefully less painful than my route).

Peace,

Dot.

Grade A (plus)!

Usually, when M.W. kisses me, he jokingly gives me a "grade", like B- or C+, because he claims that if we keep practicing... someday we'll get it right. Hehehe... I kinda like it. But... as you might guess, sometimes it feels more like I can't do it right, can't make him happy, rather than an excuse for more "practice"...

Last night after dinner.... I asked how he felt. Since he has a Cold, I thought he'd say his night was an F. Instead, he pointed to his head and said F and then pointed to his heart and said A+...

An A+ for Dorothy!

[Grin]

Dunno how that happened.... but it makes me feel like all is at peace with the world.

Craving Rules!

Or, more appropriately: I am ruled by my cravings.

Last night, M.W. surprised me by braving Friday-night traffic and taking me out to dinner! I hadn't expected to encounter him again until this next Tuesday or Wednesday. I had mentioned craving chicken flautas really bad. He offered to bring me some from this restaurant near his place (almost 2 hours from my place). We went out to dinner at Chevy's instead.

On our table? Fire-roasted Salsa and Chips, Guacamole, Chicken Flautas, Beans, Rice, and Tortilla Soup (today, my typo said "Tortolla" but I'm not shure what Bahamas Soup would taste like... LOL). Oh.. and a CRAMBERRRY MARGARITA!!!

Then off to REI, where we decided to get my neice these for Christmas. I'm not sure about y'all, but when I was a kid growing up in Michigan... I wanted nothing more than to be "King of the Mountain" on a snow drift! As if that ever happened, unless I was on a sled.... And I wanted snowshoes so bad.

**sidebar**
Once, in grad school, I got chastized for italicizing a comma. Guess what? I, Dorothy, italicized only one comma in this sidebar. If you guess which one, then I'll stop hating my Prof. (I only thought of this, because at the end of the previous paragraph, I accidentally italicized the period. But you can't tell, right?)

So anyways, my Christmas Shopping will be finished by this evening. And I'll be eating Mexican Food for Lunch and Din-din.

Travelogue: a Song for the Lonely

My first trek into the San Joaquin Valley this week, brought stinging eyes, raw, sore throat, and a near-endless 3-hour car trip, with no music. I missed my Pookie, and wasn't going to see him for another week.

It's so difficult when you have a Pookie, to take out enough time to talk to him when busying on a business trip. And it made me sad when I got home, that poor Pook-a-licious M.W. was a sicky-boy.

The funny thing about my trip, was the way every body handled being lonely, differently. Several of the men, I knew to be married. I knew this, because I've seen wedding rings in the past. Not this trip. (Gross). Others very obviously got drunk and passed out, coming to the meeting the next day, totally hungover. One attempted to cozy up to me and told me about this hotel about 20 minutes north. Um... sorry dude, not interested. We (the two others from my office) drove around the canyon in the moon-light and then found a good pizza joint and had that and drank beers for a couple of hours, whilst watching SATC re-runs.

After getting home last night, it was quite obvious to me that 1) I like my home 2) My bed is lumpy, but mine 3) Home (I typo'd "hope") is where the heart is -- in other words, it's not where I live, but where I love (Still lonely, even after getting home).

Um, by the way, Valley Air is disgusting, and I don't like it.

Peace

Dot.

Sunday Night Must-See: True Love...

Sunday night is full of "guilty-pleasure" t.v. for me. Ty Pennington, Desperate Housewives and the insecure and reaching for straws Meridith Gray of Gray's An atomy.

I'm in the middle of D.H. where Bree very fortuitously said "True love is nice, but the Opera will do for now." She was referring to the fact that George, the dorky pharmacist, asked her to marry him. Bree is clearly not in love with him, but after all the pain she's been through, a good friend is what she needs right now.

We've all heard the stories before. Arranged marriages where over time, the couple learns to love one-another deeply. Currently, I find myself in a relationship where I fell in love with my very best friend.

Almost 3 years ago, we "met" over the phone. At work, his company contracted mine, and he called me to ask a question about my forecasts. I think it was on his birthday, because mine was 6 days later, and I told him so. We'd talked before, but that time we really clicked.... He sent a coffee mug to my office, and it was fun to have a friend that loved to talk about the weather as much as me. Over the year, our friendship grew from work issues to commiserating our failing marriages outside of work.

The first time we met in person, it was September. Coffee, a sight-seeing tour around the city, an urban hike, the local brewery, and this cyber-best friend turned into a real best friend. We got along great, had great conversation, and over the next several months while both of our lives seemed to crumble around us.... there was somebody there to console with, to shine the positive light on... talk about work, even argue with... a compatible best friend.

After we each separated from our spouses, we never got tired of talking to eachother. Even with 1500 miles separating us, the weekly phone calls turned into several times a week, and then daily. The email volume increased to dozens of times per day until we were a constant buzz of communication. It was two years ago this month that I separated, and M.W. was my best friend through it all.

Four months later, I made plans to come to California and work on some projects with him. It was allegedly going to be a lucrative proposition for me. Until the work fell through... eek. He was so generous, spending a week and a half with me, playing California tour-guide. I was so in love with him and so railed against falling for him or dating him.... look at all of the negatives: 1) He's my Best Friend 2) Age Difference 3) His Kids are My age (almost, see #2) 4) 1500 miles away 5) What would my mother say?

But somewhere along the track, I could no longer keep the feelings to myself. I knew he was attracted to me, he touched my inner child with his heart, and it was like no one had ever loved me before.

Are we perfect? Hell no. We're terrified of making mistakes again. Sad to say that these kinds of things go with the territory. But damn, it's awesome to have a disagreement with your boyfriend and, in the middle of a fight, lean over and ask if your best friend can come out and give you a hug!

So, Bree... if I hadn't just watched ol' Georgie-boy knock off your therapist, I'd say that the Opera is better than "okay". But it just won't do, to have a murderer for a spouse. Well, your philandering Rex was a bad choice, too, so wha the heck?

Dot.

What We Are: A Tribute To Mister Bobby Clothespin

My old neighbor died yesterday. You can read Jayleigh's account of his life and death here. Mine is a bit different.

I can remember that he was a nice man, and I remember all of the childhood memories too. But Mister Bobby Clothespin was special to me beyond words, because of who he was, and what I became.

He was one of those guys who defied the odds. All he wanted in the world, as a young man, was to be a pilot. We're talking WWII, here. But pilots had to have perfect eyesight. He didn't. But he passed all of the exams, and everyone marveled at his instinct... so they let him become a pilot. He always had great stories about flying over thunderstorms without onboard radar, and about the ladies in Japan, and stuff like that. Probably inappropriate for a 13 year old.. but I wanted to do a report on Japan for my 7th Grade Social Studies class, and he was the perfect resource. Even gave me a few yen to show the class.

After I moved away and started college, Mom would keep Bob informed of my progess. He was so proud that I was going to be a meteorologist! Whenever I came home and saw him, he would beam from ear to ear, hearing me tell about the weather, or what I learned. Since Aviation and Weather go hand in hand, he always loved knowing what I was doing. A couple of years ago my very first post on this blog was written from the chair of aviation meteorology for a major airline. Lots has changed since then, but Bob always beamed with pride, that I "made it".

Ha. (For those of you who have also "made it", you know why I laugh: it's the same reason why as grown-ups we still feel like kids -- we've not "made it" any more than we've "grown up"!).

So there was a mutual respect between us. Even after I was tasked to house-sit for him whilst in Europe, and my then-fiancee' (now-ex-husband) accidentally set his brand-new house on fire with a toaster! Bob still paid me $500 for 6 weeks :).

Godspeed, Bob. Now you're flying around with angels wings. Hope it's as fun as your old plane...

Peace,

Dot.

Animal Instinct... or Just Plain Bad Behavior?

M.W.s former shrew forgot to take Kiki to work this morning. I fail to see how, when someone is living with you and you tell them the night before, you can still manage to get up early and go grocery shopping, instead of take your daughter to work, like she asked you.

That is, unless you're a selfish, cold, heartless person.

I'm upset for both M.W. and Kiki, that they have to deal with her on a regular basis. Even moreso, I've begun to analyze that behavior, to try and understand it.

Bebe, here at the office suggested that sometimes when animals find inperfections in their young, they eat them. Or was it just to kill them? Anyways, shrew's abject selfishness might just be proof that she's an animal. A Hog, perhaps. Oh, oh... Piggy is her new name from now on.

Remind you of Animal Farm, anyone?

Life Goes On... and So Does Her Mouth (a rant)

I'm a GHaG. But for some fugly reason, I do enjoy all other GHaGs. Usually. So I used to hate myself for saying things like this because "Girl Power" and "I am Woman" and all that post-modern neo-feminist schtuff. But you know what? I hate catty bitches!

The GHaG at the women-only gym I go to? She started making fun of my collegiate t-shirts. Normally I would shrug this off, but it happens that I am very sensitive about people saying that I believe I'm smarter than everyone, just because I finished college. Okay, Okay, Michigan Engineering was hard. But I worked my a$$ off. I'm not brilliant. But I wanted to succeed. Passion. Drive.

I told them on Monday that they "weren't cool" for making fun of me. Tonight? They did it again. Well it's NOT cool. And I'm not excited to go back.

The thing is, the one GHaG realized she stepped in some deep doo-doo, because then she started talking and talking and it seemed like a train-wreck of lies, and she just wouldn't stop!

Grr. So I'm distressed and don't want to go back to the Playground that is my gym. And I don't want a super-sized version of Ms. Jordache (a playground bully of my youth) to make me hate every minute I have to spend in her giant presence. I'm a grown up, and I'm paying money to this establishment. And in the morning, I'm also calling her manager. If there's no satisfaction there, the owner of the gym, and then the better business bureau.

Dorothy don't pay to be abused. And it don't pay to abuse Dorothy.

Peace out.

Dot.

Confessions of a Chronic Nail-biter

Whilst removing my socks before bed tonight, I'm not sure why... but for a brief moment as I felt a snaggy toenail, and as I was lifting my foot toward my mouth... I actually thought I could bite my toenail.

1) Gross.

2) How?

3) I've lost all respect for myself by telling you this.

Sissy-girl.... Feelin' fine and recovering nicely.

My Dearest sister, Jayleigh had a cholycystectomy yesterday. I worried for her and prayed and all of the things a sister should do.

As I go through my life taking wreckless chances with my heart, with my safety, and with my life, it doesn't seem scary. I'm in control, I'm Dorothy, and I'm not afraid!

Even though I've been through a cholycystectomy myself, I couldn't help but worry for my sis. Even this thought went through my head: If it came down to me losing my car, house, job, and boyfriend versus losing my sister, I'd give up everything I have in the WORLD, to avoid losing her.

She's my bibba, you know....

Anyways, I am starting to realize that maybe my Jayleigh and my family, including M.W., worry for me too.

Peace.

Dot.

Meet the Newest of the Freaking Idiots:

ME!!!!!

Guess.

No really, guess!

Kiki used my laptop last night, and didn't log off.
I used my laptop this afternoon and wondered why in HELL her mother, M.W.'s former shrew would email me. So....

wait for it...

So I emailed her back, telling her what a special daughter she has, and that is was in no small part because of shrew and M.W.

And then... I realized...

that....

Shrew had not emailed me... she emailed her daughter....

and...

I had inadvertantly sent that (blasted) reply from Kiki's account.

So what have I just done? Accused the Shrew of sending me a message, then replying to it from her daughter's account, only to realize that I'm an idiot, and a pretty poor specimen, ta boot! I apologized to Kiki, but I'm not going to send Shrew a note, because.. why? Then she'd have my email address, and she already hates me, so frickin' WHY?

My mom is going to laugh when I tell her what I did. M.W. told me to take an Internet 101 class at the local community collage.

Thanks. I think I'll stop programming for a while a the office, so I can go back and learn email ettiquette.

At least I tried to kill her with kindess? (Die, bitch, DIE!)


Shame-faced,

Dot.

Settling....

...In
Into the California Leftist movement, that is. I kinda like this quote I heard today

"One of the penalties for refusing to participate in politics is that you end up being governed by your inferiors" - Plato

...Down
After a long and nice weekend, I had to come home so I could work tomorrow. We spent a wonderful afternoon with M.W.'s Newlyweds, walking around their new town, eating lunch, and talking. About writing a book... M.W. and I are talking about writing a book together. He wants to do it, and I have the time. Sounds like a match made in .... well.... at least in San Francisco, eh?
I'm so excited about it, I'm practically jittery. Add in some coffee, a few diet cokes and the speed-bump du jour, and you might tell me to take a time out! AAAAHHHH!

...Just Settling
Joints settle. So do houses, ideas, and prospects. Fear precipitates and then settles, and rain, I'm sure, does the same. It's natural... but why does everyone fear that I'm doing it? (I'm not, BTW). Last time I checked, I am a grown, educated woman who wants what she wants. Why, pray, would I have moved to California, if I was so all-fired into settling for something less than what I want out of life?

...Out
Guess I should have placed the rain comment here. But anyways, I gotta get out, gotta make some friends, and then maybe settling for something outside of the realm of what I normally deem suitable, would not be so far-fetched.

Editor's note: Frankly, I like who I am and... I like what I like. No one has ever forced me into liking something that I did not... although perhaps I have. With truth on our side, we can discover our hearts and then be true to them.

Obsolete-o-Phobia: Duh. The Fear of Becoming Obsolete

It happens to everyone in the lifespan of their career: they choose where they want to land, and maintain, but never really move ahead once again. They've become obsolete.

In meteorology these days, it's all about computers and computing. Some of the old timers here -- and especially some really talented meteorologists -- are useless to us because they are uncomfortable in learning and doing something which is completely natural to us X-ers and Y-ers (technically speaking, I'm a Y-er, but I've always considered myself an X-er)... Simply operating a comuter is mystifying to the old-timers. One dude comes in and says what a horrible met shop we are, because we no longer print out the weather maps and hang them on the wall.

Our technology is a complete dissapointment to him, because in our effort to save paper, the lionshare of our work is now available to the public from inside of a plastic and metal box, with wires and circuits and excited electrons running around inside displayed on a glowing cathode-ray tube or lcd display panel, rather than on show on the back wall of our crappy-doodle office on floor 7 of this awesome and very secure high-rise.

M.W. told me this morning that it's great I'm learning to program more, because the future of meteorology is in programming. He said that if I wanted to move up and do meaningful work in the biz... I'd have to be more adaptable and better programmer. Yikes! I'm starting to feel desperate, like I have to do it to stay alive.

....deep....breath....

Dot.

Taking the Slow Boat (non-rant)

I've discovered something I really like to do: driving below the speed limit when I'm not in a hurry.

Sounds nutty, eh? But California is a huge state, and you just can't get anywhere unless you drive like a madman with both fists on the wheel, white-knuckled until they're bleeding, acid pouring into the tum-tum, and cell phone pasted to the side of your head.

Respect and Respect Totum Pole (rant)
I know, I know... I've turned into one of them pretty quickly, you're thinking. No. The funniest thing happened the other day when I realized that people from the Bay are *so* different than the rest of us hanging out here in Nor Cal. M.W. is from the Bay Area, so I'm treading lightly here.... but let's just say that all of the things that I love about where he lives -- the diversity, sophistication, all of the Apple stores, Starbucks, specialty bookstores, Clubs, and bike trails -- is why I don't mind living in the Valley -- it reminds me of rural Michigan, growing up, a lack of pretense, feeling comfortable with who I am, and generally being accepted on my own merits, instead of having to have connections.

I have both: Merits and Connections. But I hate that whole fat-cat, glad-handing, smiling at someone even when they occupy a perennial position at the base of your Respect Totum-pole kind of existance.

And it's not that M.W. is any part of the what I don't like about where he lives -- in fact, he's quite above it all, to the point where it doesn't even occur to him that he exists quite nicely in both the la-de-da points of life, as well as wearing sweatpants to the grocery store and eating fast food kind of life.

Actually my railing to the smiling fat-cats is more that I don't like the corporations to whom they belong... namely one to which I used to belong. While these business connections are great, it's irksome the ways that they do business. It's ONLY business, I know, I know... but what about the meteorology?

Shiver.... Blink... Swoosh.... Wow.... (rant-lite)
Weather is my life. I don't think I am out of line to say it's M.W.'s life, too. Families and relationships change and grow, but the wonder and beauty and awesome power of nature lies in our hearts. It's not just the desire to understand the weather and act as a liason to the public... no... of all the mets I know, none of them do it for the power, the glory, the money. Passion is what it's all about.

Rain, wind, clouds, hail, snow, lightning, thunder, hurricanes, tornadoes.

Peace

Dot.

Introspective

Have you ever gotten yourself into a place where, emotionally, you feel like you're going to explode? Like you can't express yourself, and you know it's just a matter of time until you go "wacky-ass" on someone? Ha... I know that my dear twinsey, Jayleigh, knows what I'm talking about.

Anyways... in the past two years, I've felt like that a lot. But... rarely have I done it. Last night, Kiki took the train up here and we went to a concert together. She's so sweet and nice and thoughtful.... but she wanted to talk about me and her dad, and about her mom (the wretch who hates me) and about how she doesn't approve that I am sleeping with her dad, but that she also loves him and me in spite of it.

After the concert, I took her back to meet with her dad. Something clicked inside of me. A click of responsibility? Okay. A click of "It's gonna be alright?" Yup.

In all of the time I spend worrying about my relationship with M.W., about how his ex hates me... and whether or not his kids love me or not... I've forgotten that I'm living my life!!!

And what a life it is! It's raining out and I'm going to flip on a sweatshirt and walk to the gym. With my bumbershoot.

Peace

Dot.

A new Profile Pic.... With Thanks to Yahoo! news

The Warmth... The Desire.... The... Beef Stroganoff Crave...

It started simply enough -- cravings for a good old-fashioned comfort food. Even the hamburg (yeah, I said hamburg, alright? HAM-BURG. That's the way we said it in the Midwest, get over it)-mushroom soup kind would have done.

After waiting almost a month since this craving began... I made it last night. Sirloin tips. Whole-fat sour cream. Beef consumme. Parsley. Before seconds last night, M.W. suggested some sherry mixed in. Bingo. Then for the leftovers today.... the freshest, "ripest" San Francisco sourdough (alright, it was Solano Baking Co. for him and Sacramento Baking Co. for me)... but you get the picture. BAM!

Gud Fud! (translated: Good Food).

Dot.

The Wanderling on Weather Forecasting

I traded emails today, with a girl I used to know. (I say "Used to know" since we were once friends and due to my moving 8 times in ten years, kind of lost contact). She's the near-twin of a bit of a hero of mine, Katherine Turner. Okay, at my age, I should use the word "Woman"... but you don't think of your previous bar-buddies as adults. Especially when you were busy coping with life by not dealing with it. "Drowning your sorrows" as it were.

She asked me if all of the meteorologists I know, were making bets on where Wilma was expected to make landfall (thanks to M.W. for the image). Okay, I have to say before I told you my reply, that I'm on super-charged hormonal PMS-dom today. Everything is making me cry... even the Hydrogen Semi-truck parked downstairs, with a nearby town from where I grew up, plastered on the side: Fenton, MI. So what did I say to "Ms. Turner"? At first, we get all excited about this powerful, awesome force of Nature. Then we start to feel ill, realizing that this power is going to kill people and ruin homes and lives.

Bleh.

It really came home to me back in 2003 when I peered out from under a mattress in my then-home, happy to find that I did not, in fact, die in a tornado that was a mere mile from my home. Phew.

So no, this girl isn't interested in wagering on people's lives. I don't think any of us are. We have a certain... respect... for the power, the uncertainty, the fear of making a bad forecast that will change people's lives. It's a big responsibility.

And Thank God I'm not part of FEMA....

Here is Gone

The other night... maybe it was last night after some cold pills, that I thought about here, about now. Life is fluid.

What is here today will be gone tomorrow. It's a fact. It's impossible to make your life be the same in a day, a week, a month, as it is today. Here is gone. You have to make a new here every day.

Mercifully, today is different than yesterday, last week, last month, last year. Life progresses, and people can and do change. Relationships and families and loves and lives change. It's naive to think that one can have things NOT change.

In my former marriage, I was the one who changed, far beyond that which my spouse could or was willing to keep up with. M.W.'s marriage was similar, with he as the changer.

It's okay to be a little afriad...
I've been so afraid to change since I moved to the Golden State.... don't want to lose me, or lose sight of this awsome best friend, this partner with whom I share so much. My bike ride a few days ago proved to me, that no matter how upset and afraid of the future I am.... I can still function and still be happy and still find love and life... and still move forward.

Some reassurance would nice...
I miss my mommy. It would be so nice to have her pat my back and tell me that everything is going to be alright. Does everyone have moments which they feel like this about their lives? Afraid to move forward, terrified of losing ground?

There is this song ... part of the lyrics go "Just remember I love you, and it'll be alright... Just remember I love you, much more than I can say...." I kinda need that kind of reassurance right now.

Peace,
Dot.

Endorphin-pig(let)

I didn't want to go for a ride today. But when I got out on that trail and started pounding my muscles against gravity, feeling the wind in my hair and dodging the shopping cart of some left-over vagrant... it felt like a million bucks.

13.3 miles later, I was tired. But I would've gone 10 more miles if I knew that there might be a double-dip Ben&Jerry's at the end! Or even an ice-cold diet coke(tm). Right now, it's after 11 pm and I'm so revved up and riled, that I can barely settle down.

The endorphin rush is really awesome. So is ice-cream.

Hehehe

I missed him
My bike buddy, M.W.... My partner in so many things. Laughing, movie-going, and smooching on occasion as well.

Our schedules have been so weird lately. When I'm off, he's working. When he's off, I'm working. I don't think we'll have more than a two-hour date between now and Thanksgiving. But that turkey will taste a ton better sitting next to my sweetie, best friend, and partner in all endeavors competitive.

Oh and guess what else, Sally?

I've actually been in your house half-a-dozen times before.
Your kids happily invited me in, with and without your Ex.

And I've mocked your ugly furniture to it's face.

M.W. and I held hands and kissed on the doorstep,
We played with your dog in the back yard,
And we sat on the steps to your ugly 2nd floor, making fun of you.

So there.

Oh, and we took sodas out of your fridge, too.

An Example of why M.W.'s Ex is such a Bitch:

She is on her honeymoon. The ink's barely dried on her divorce papers (okay, it's been probably 8 months since her divorce, 23 months since her separation), and she's taken up with M.W.'s [former] best friend, newly married [in what I imagine was a gaudy and completely common wedding, without a lick of originality, and lots of white roses and pomp and tawdry details, with all of her friends who pretend to like her because she's nice to their faces, but she's really a shrew in a nurse's uniform] on a Mediterranean Cruise. The bitch. That's not why I hate her today.

Today... her son and his new wife are moving out of her house, and into their first apartment as a married couple. All of the way from the sunny cruise, she called to make sure that Kiki knew that if I were present to help move... I was not allowed into the house.

Come again? Yes, she said that if I came over to help the Newlyweds, I could not enter her ugly-ass house. (No, I'm not being spiteful... it's an ugly design, adding in the poorly applied "faux" paint finish and the pansy-tapestried club chairs with ruffles at the bottom... Sally's house is frighteningly "keep-up-with-the-Jones-ish" and even moreso "I don't have an eye for decorating, so I copy my girlfriends, so we can all have matching HOUSES in MATCHING SUBURBS and we can all eat MEAT AND POTATOES EVERY NIGHT BECAUSE WE ARE ORDINARY... but not just ORDINARY ordinary... WE're SNOBS about it!")

Okay... I'm a little more than pissed at her today, and I'm a little more than hurt that she should tell her daughter not to let me in the house. Because Kiki would let me in the house... but she also did just what her mom wanted her to do -- tell me that I'm not "supposed" to.

Sad Music

Patty Griffin's Rain used to be my fave song ever.... I probably posted it in my blog back in 2003, when I started my ickle puppy. It made me cry every time I heard it, because I was hurting inside and all.

It doesn't make me cry anymore....

Rock <-- Me --> Hard Place

I hate being an intelligent adult. STOMP.

I hate understanding someone else's side of the story and still wanting what I want! STOMP

I hate Money. STOMP. STOMP. STOMP!

(for a list of items that cost more than doing the right thing, and less than $1,000, click here, and enter my email address (if you don't know it... you're outta luck!)).

On another note... [M.W. and] I have signed up for another walk... the breast cancer walk for the Camerican Cancer Society in a few weeks. It is meaningful to me when we make plans and keep them -- sounds funny, but he's always so busy, his time is a premium. So this little bit of time is what I end up looking forward to, all month.

At least I am trying to do some good toward the remainder of the universe. Whether it's together or alone, I'm doing some good. And getting to know myself better. That should come in handy some day.

-- Dot.

Cherish the Life....

Only two short years ago, I had this big fight with what is now my ex. He threatened my safey, he threatened my life! I used to sit in my bedroom and hope that he would have a traffic accident on the way home from work.... maybe someone tragic would harm him before he arrived.... or.... what would happen if ... could I....?

We swore and cursed at eachother. Sometimes I hit his arms and chest in anger. He often shoved me against a wall, or onto the bed or floor. He would hold me down and I kicked him. He screamed into my face and told me that I made him hate his life, made him want to kill himself. Even while I hated him, my heart was dying. It became a cold black lump of tar before I left.

I left 23 months and 3 weeks ago. Because the incident happened exactly two years ago today. And exactly two years ago today, I decided to leave.

All of the doctors and therapists told me that it would take two years to get over the divorce. I thought that they were insane! I was fine... look at me! ... now, two years later, I think it took just this long to wind down. The dealing with it part has come in stages.

But after spending a luxuriously long weekend with M.W., I felt encouraged that my life is advancing slow enough for me to keep up with it, and almost fast enough to keep me from being annoyed :) ...

His separation happened in the same week as mine, although they were unrelated. In an email then a phone call that ended up changing our lives, we were there for eachother. I had always been afraid that we were just commiserating all of this time... that when we felt appropriately healed, that we may've just let the other slip away... instead, I found a best friend, a partner in business, in work, in happiness.... in life. I've found inspiration and a way to cherish my life once again....

How do I Hate Thee?

At this point, I'm not sure if I hate her or myself more.

It all started years ago when I learned about spying on people on the internet. Google anyone's name, and you can find out tons about them. Now I've learned something I should not Google: my boyfriend's ex-wife.

I mean, it was simple enough. I know her name, I know she's getting married on Saturday. And I'm a snoop. Hey, public domain, eh? What's free can't hurt me right?

Well I'm here to tell you that it can. For one, she seemed to be the coldest and most heartless person on the planet. Guess everyone gets that way when they're not happy on the inside. So she gets a point. Next, she finds someone, settled down with him right away, seems like a match made in heaven, and she's marrying him. Another point. Well, half a point, because she's now going to be a grandparent. Hehehe. They travel, they still go to M.W.'s church, and act like no big deal.

So there she is, a point and a half ahead of me in this game, and I'm still feeling badly, even though I never did anything to warrant that. And I went off (again) about something I didn't have anything to do with, can't control, and... yes, I hate myself the most, because I looked.

Bad Dorothy :-(

I hate the behavior, NOT men in general

My guilty pleasure? Watching The Supernanny. Generally the family in question on the show istotally cooperative. The guys toight? Couch-potato dad absolutely refuses to participate (he traveles 50 weeks out of the year).

The dad is the most selfish idividual I've ever seen, constantly undermines the mom, doesn't believe in or support the parenting techniques, and for all intents and purposes, reminds me of my bastard-of-an-ex husband.

Not that we had children together -- no, I was too afraid of him for that. No, it is the way that he approached everything, includinnnnnnnnnnnnnng.... home repair, maintenance on the marriage, and working because he bowed to the almighty buck and not to the sanctity of the human ties that bonded us in marriage.

So this guy on Supernanny... he just pissed me off. And it made me glad that I'm not married to him, or that bastard-ex, either.

Seeing the parents take their children for granted, is especially disconcerting to me. I hate when parents have so much in life, and never think that they might be harming their children irreperably... in fact, bringing up the very peoples in society from which they are trying to protect their families.

It just makes me sick because I want to make a difference... and I'm clueless as to how I could, at this point in my life.

My Lance...

M.W. and I rode the Los Gatos Creek trail on Saturday, from Palo Alto to Los Gatos (I think). It was a pretty challenging ride up the creek, but it went really really fast, back down.

We have an incredibly competitive nature between the two of us. He is old and fast, I am young and built for comfort. Our bikes act as the "Great Equilizer" because I persist while his energy comes in spurts. The equilizer part? Wheels.

M.W. and I always try to work as a team. Whether it's cutting up fruit or going on a dinner (or donut) run, we like to keep eachother company, take some of the burden out of burdensome things, and most especially, find new ways to love, to laugh, and to see if I can make him spit soy mocha out of his nose.

As we were "racing" to where the car was parked on Saturday, I shared my water with him, doing the cool pass-off manovre that people with actual coordination and athletic ability can do. As he handed me back the bottle and then proceeded to stay at my side (instead of leaving me in the dust, a task which is allotted to him by the eighty-eleven extra gears that his shiny new K2 has) and yell to anyone who could hear: "Hey Lance... does Sheryl ride with you? Look who I've got with me?"

Had I not been going 20 mph down a board-walk clad hill, I'd have kissed him. Or wept. Or both. My reply? I yelled: "Who needs Lance Armstrong for a boyfriend when I've got my best friend in the whole wide world, right here? Eat your heart out, Sheryl."

My heart is actually bursting. What a great day!!!

Saluting Law Enforcement Officers

Going through all of my old stuff, I found the business card of the Police Officer who came to my former home and disarmed my former spouse, when he attempted to eliminate us from the planet.

After calling 9-1-1, the officers very carefully approached him, disarmed the bastard, handcuffed him, and took him for a 48-hour cooling-off period in the looney-bin.

There was more than one officer, but the one whose card I have, I just sent a thank-you note, cc-ing it to his Chief. Can you imagine that these guys and girls put themselves into the line of fire daily? Each day they are thrust into the very situation from which I called them to extract me.

Shuh! Can you believe how brave they are? Does that make them crazy too? How about our service men and women?

NO! I don't think they are crazy. I think they are young, bold, and trying to make a difference, make the world a better place.

So thanks Officer Freeman, thanks anyone else who was there, and thanks to all of the other law enforcement officers who are, for the most part, of impeccable character and certainly braver than anyone ought have the right to be.

Peace out.

Who is Tupey?

My darling sister's website -- www.rupetupe.blogspot.com -- is at least named in part for our late Aunt Ruth's dog, named Tupey. It was the most gawd-awful dog with the worst name imaginable. However, people do love their dogs.

Jayleigh's latest post includes a video of her naughty-poochie-poo named Kodiak, who looks like my old dog (may she rest in peace), Teddy.

I told M.W. the other day that I wanted a dog. Neither of us live in places where dogs are allowed. But that doesn't stop me from stomping and pouting about it. On Yahoo! News photos a couple of days ago, there was a red panda. A red panda? A red panda. Anyways, I want a red panda for a dog.

So there, M.W. (stomp)

I'm the Rodney Dangerfield of Meteorology...

In essence, I get no respect.

In reality... I get a lot of it. It's so weird how your coworkers show that they accept you by giving you hell. Mine call me everything except my name.

Why? Because they called me something not close to my name on my first day of work. I corrected them. Is that so wrong? My real name "rhymes" with Danielle. On the daily telcon, someone called me Danielle the other day. My coworkers could not believe that I refrained from throwing a hissy-fit. Now they call me Danielle. Yesterday, the nickname was "Pinky Tuscadero" of "Happy Days" fame. Why? Wore a pink polo-shirt.

Tomorrow, though, my nickname will be "hardass" unless I get some respect. I think.

It Levels Me Every Time

As I go through life, I try not to reflect too much on disappoints. Sometime that just can't be helped.... they just come up, kick you in the back of the knees and level you to the ground.

To be frank.... I need a hug. A great big safe hug. From someone who is never going to leave.

In unpacking more boxes in my place, I've already found pictures this morning of my in-laws, the curtain for the nursery I decorated when I was pregnant for a few precious weeks back in my old house, and groundhog's day cards which I chose not to send. All of these items represented dissapointments of some sort in my life, be it poor communication, the loss a a new life inside me, or just plain high hopes that are afraid to exist for fear of being dashed by fear itself, poor communication, and lack of faith in something I want so much for my somewhat distant future.

Worthy of mentioning is that I am going off my anti-depressants finally. Everything seems to make me cry or laugh these days. Not mood swings as much as finding my emotions again. And my fears. Maybe I needed to be more numb for a while to get some perspective.

Anybody got some advice (or a hug)?

On another topic...
I HATE online music companies. Being the cheapskate that I am, I joined Yahoo Music's free 7-day trial. They said I could download as much music as I wanted. Guess what? My new iPod (I named her Smith) is not supported, so I can't download the muzik onto her and listen "on the go" as advertised. It took about 2 hours of researching to learn this. And I'd already shared my unlimited download excitement with Kiki, so then I felt like an idiot.

Here's the thing: usually, I will buy large quantities of music only from the bargain bin, garage sales, or that buy eighty-eleven CDs for only a penny offer from BMG. Why in heck would I pay $7/ month until the end of time, just to listen to my unlimited downloads? I mean, eventually there would be a limit, and then my toons ended up costing WAY more than $0.99 apiece. It ain't a good deal, and I don't support online music companies that end up charging you more than you'd ever pay in a bargain bin, garage sale, or Columbia House (hey, I can be an equal opportinity business plan basher).

So what's my solution? A perfectly legal method of backing up the music that I paid for. Tunebite. Time consuming? Yah. A little boring? You betcha. But in the end, I ended up paying almost $18 to a German company that allowed me to record the music as it's coming out of my speakers, so the format can be reincoded for use on Smith, the baby iPod. What's an iPod mommy to do? The baby likes music. It's like food to her, and she's on a quarter of a tank.....

Sunday in the South...

My Mom's Dad hailed from South Carolina. But he was as happy as a clam when he lived in California for may years. Mom tells me that I look like Grandpa Gilstrap, and that I love California like he did. She always paid homage to our southern roots, and especially the fact that her people felt incredibly wronged by the War.

Anyone from the South knows of which war I speak. They're still angry down there. Growing up in Michigan, I can not even begin to fathom the kind of individual that would feel, deep down, wronged by the things that they lost in the American Civil War. But anyways, it's an old-school train of thought that I don't subscribe to.

But if you've ever heard this song, you might get an idea of how small-town America feels about it's boys and girls that it sends out into the world. I'm still a small-town/farm girl. And it's weird how I feel that a little part of me still needs to succeed on behalf of them. (Of course, then I go Home to Michigan and tell the tales of my life, and then come back here and make more tales).

Shenandoah - Sunday In The South

Mill worker houses lined up in a row,
another southern sunday morning blow
Beneath the steeple all the people have begun
shakin' hands with the man who grips the gospel gun
While the quiet prayer, the smell of dinner on the ground
heals up the morning air, ain't nothin' sweeter around

I can almost hear my mama pray:
"Oh lord forgive us when we doubt,"
another sacred sunday in the south

A ragged rebel flag flies high above it all
popping in the wind like an angry cannon ball
The halls of history are cold and still,
but they smell the powder burnin' and they probably always will
And on the old town square under the barber shop pole,
they sat me up in the chair when I was four years old

I can almost hear my papa say:
"Won't you hold still son, stop squirmn' around
another sacred sundays coming down"

I can almost hear the old folks say:
"You'll make it big one day, you'll leave this town,"
Some other lazy sunday you'll come back around

I can feel the evening sun go down,
and all the lights in the houses one by one go out
Softly in the distance nothing stirs about
and the night is filled with the sound of a whipporwil
On a sunday in the south

A Point of Wonder

.... some may wonder why I so often publish lyrics. The answer is "I listen to a lot of music". For instance, if you go to http://launch.yahoo.com you'll find that I'm a ratings master (enter wxgddss at the DJ). Probably only 21,000 ratings. But my music tastes are ecclectic and varied.

So back to the point of wonder. Why these lyrics? Why here?

Simply: moving, beautiful music.

BTW... I got a new iPod last night. Before, it was an iPod mini, 4 GB. I sold that one to Kiki and got a 20 GB iPod colour for $100 off retail. How did I do that, you ask? www.craigslist.com Go there. It's a Good Thing.

Happy Listening!

Today is the First Day of my Life

BRIGHT EYES

"First Day Of My Life"

This is the first day of my life
I swear I was born right in the doorway
I went out in the rain suddenly everything changed
They're spreading blankets on the beach

Yours is the first face that I saw
I think I was blind before I met you
Now I don’t know where I am I don’t know where I’ve been
But I know where I want to go

And so I thought I’d let you know
That these things take forever
I especially am slow
But I realize that I need you And I wondered if I could come home

Remember the time you drove all night
Just to meet me in the morning
And I thought it was strange you said everything changed
You felt as if you had just woke up And you said “this is the first day of
my life
I’m glad I didn’t die before I met you But now I don’t care I could go
anywhere with you
And I’d probably be happy”

So if you want to be with me
With these things there’s no telling
We just have to wait and see
But I’d rather be working for a paycheck
Than waiting to win the lottery
Besides maybe this time is different
I mean I really think you like me...

Oh M.W.... I love you....

CARBON LEAF LYRICS

"Life Less Ordinary"

Live a life less ordinary
Live a life extraordinary with me
Live a life less sedentary
Live a life evolutionary with me

Well I hate to be a bother,
But it's you and there's no other,
I do believe
You can call me naive but...
I know me very well (at least as far as I can tell)
And I know what I need

The night you came into my life
Well it took the bones of me, took the bones of me
You blew away my storm and strife
And shook the bones of me, shook the bones of me
By the way, I do know why you stayed away...
I will keep tongue-tied next time

Live a life less ordinary
Live a life extraordinary with me
My face had said too much
Before our hands could even touch
To greet a 'hello'
(So much for going slow...)

A little later on that year
I told you that I loved you dear
What do you know?
This you weren't prepared to hear

I'm a saddened man, I'm a broken boy
I'm a toddler with a complex toy
I've fallen apart, since the ambush of your heart

The night you came into my life
Well it took the bones of me, took the bones of me
You blew away my storm and strife
And shook the bones of me, shook the bones of me.
By the way, I do know why you stayed away
I will keep tongue-tied but...

Honey understand, honey understand
I won't make demands
Honey understand, honey understand
We could walk without a plan.
Honey understand (honey), honey understand
I won't rest in stone all alone
Honey understand, honey understand
I'm all ready to go
But you already know...

Live a life less ordinary
Live a life extraordinary with me.
If I could name you in this song
Would it make you smile and sing along?
This is the goal: to get into your soul
If I could make you dance for joy
Could that be the second-chance decoy?
The bird-in-hand I would need
To help you understand?

The night you came into my life
well it took the bones of me, took the bones of me
You blew away my storm and strife
And shook the bones of me, shook the bones of me
By the way, I do know why you stayed away
I will keep tongue-tied next time

Fortune Cookie Fortunes

It seems that the best of the fortunes come about in the most needed times of one's life. Mine tonight? "Being aware of your fears will greatly improve your life". Nice that it would come a couple of days before I attend the marriage of M.W. son. His shrew of an ex will be there, along with everyone she's ever bad-mouthed me to. Intimidating? Frightening? Yah, shure, you-betcha!

One of my fav. fortunes of the past? "Stop looking forever... happiness is right beside you". That's the one that kepe my first marriage together when I moved from Michigan to Oklahoma. Another one? "Success is like a kite: big winds raise it higher". That one convinced me to weather a stormy job until I found something else in the field that I liked.

No Place to Go
M.W. is at a party tonight for his son. His daughter is at a party for his daughter-in-law-to-be. I'm not welcome, so I've decided to watch Supernanny, paint my nails, and pop a bottle of bubbly. Why the hell not? I'm making my own happiness tonight. Rather than be in an uncomfortable and stuffy "corn-cob up the butt" house, I'm sitting around in my tank-top and panties, feet on the coffee table, remote-control in hand.

does life get much more satisfying than this? It does if you go to the freezer and find a pint of Ben-n-Jerry's!

A dip in the stream that is my consciousness

1) I'm going off of my anti-depressants. Yes, the same ones that I started almost a year ago. The ones that I was driven to, after the horrible ordeal that was my marriage, and the mercifully devoid of emotion ordeal that was my divorce. See, it's not that I was depressed, as much I was piling guilt onto myself for the marriage, his psychotic break, the divorce, my dog being hit by a car, and then falling in love quite soon after, with M.W.

2) Don't get me wrong -- I'm not guilty of anything... but I'm the kind of girl who, when critisized, first believes the critical comments, and then questions them second. (For instance, M.W.'s ex keeps insisting to her children, family, and friends, that I was the cause of the break-up of her marriage. Of course, she's neglecting the fact that she's a screeching shrew and anyone not related to her and has half a brain can't stand to spend more than 5 minutes with her).

3) Jessica R. used to be the wife of my bible-study leader. When my marriage started to fall apart, the two of them tried to intervene. The thing is, my ex is the one who had the mental breakdown. But he used his time in lockup to spin it so that I had done everything wrong. Jessica and her husband told me that "God doesn't allow divorce" and that many of the things that I had done in the past were "disrespectful" of my husband as the head of my household, and that they would offer to "mentor" us in our marriage. You know what? Despite everything, they were taking his side. Why does that happen to so many conservative "christian" people? Why do they ignore the hell out of verbal and emotional abuse, effectively giving the perpetrator a free ticket to controlling and screaming all they want?

4) So I'm not guilty of doing anything but taking control of my life. Today I had a little bit of a hard time with the wooziness of going of my pills, the PMS, and thinking about how completely insane I must be, to be putting myself in the line of "hate-fire" from M.W.'s ex, at his son's wedding next weekend. As always, M.W. allays my fears, calms my heart, and sooths my soul. Sigh.

5) I want an order of honey-walnut prawns. Ever had em?

Remember when?

• Gas cost $0.99 per gallon?
  
  
• You could get a meal at Mc Donalds that would fill you up, but not bloat your goat?
  
  
• The guy at the hardware store would make your keys by hand with his little grinder thingy? (instead of letting his maschine do it automatically)
  
• Summers were hot, winters were cold, and I had a crush on Billy Bacon?
  
  
• The biggest things we ever worried about, was what to wear tomorrow, and what to ask from mom and dad, for our birthdays?
  
• We all knew the same things, and most of those things were lyrics to popular songs -- songs, pray, that were singable... not some of the cRap that they call music these days?
  
• Remember it?
  
  
• Remember?

Yeah.... I do.

Rainbow's Song...

Mr. Rainbow, that is. Your song is on right now. Styx's "Don't Let it End!" Listening to it a full decade and a three-quarters after I broke up with your fanny, I'm surprised to hear the lyrics and realize that they had simply nothing to do with my dating you. You were just a head-case. I now laugh at your melodrama. And by the way, I still don't forgive you for the reasons which I cited when breaking up with you. The unforgivable crimes.

You once wrote me a letter when you were "over the rainbow" as it were. You mentioned about wanting to save me from my life. Guess what? I didn't need you saving me, just like I didn't need that stupid Nelson saving me.... It's good to be independent and see things as they really are.

By the way Rainbow.... I heard that you are bald and fat. Hahaha on you.

Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word

But alas, I think we prooved that we could say it tonight.

My sweet, handsome, blue-eyed M.W. reminded me very subtly, that we should not post blogs, nor respond to them when we're 1) tired, 2) cranky, 3) too hot, 4) in a disagreement. He apologized to me on counts 1, 2, and 3, and I apologized to him on accounts 2 and 4.

Be that as it may.... we decided to meet halfway from Here to There, had the most wonderful dinner, shopped at the Container Store, walked around the mall to watch the cute people and get some dessert, and then made out like high-schoolers in the parking lot. Well... wait a second... i was in high school once, and I think this parking-lot makeout session was not quite as window-fogging as some of the ones from way back when. By the same token, both of us have fewer hormones, more regard for the other's feelings, and a little more modesty than 15 - 25 years ago.

It turned out to be a dreamy evening and I'm kinda feeling bad about where things were before.

You know what's gross? In my new apartment, I can hear the girl upstairs, when she flushes her toilet. It's just the thought that raw sewage is moving down in pipes inside my walls...eeew.

So goodnight.... sleep tight... and don't let me bite you :)

WAMHAS, M.W.

All Dressed Up and No Place to Go

I understand... really I do. But that doesn't take away my disappointment.

We had plans to go out today, and they were changed. No big deal. The big deal is the wracking loneliness that I felt when I realized that the surprise was not that I get to see my boyfriend and his daughter... but that I would not.

So tell me... what do you do with yourself when you're all ready to party the afternoon away, and plans change? I do housework. The housework I'd planned on doing before they decided to come and see me today. But plans change and they ended up going home before they even got here. And I was all ready to enjoy an afternoon with them. And now I just can't stop from wanting to go to bed and pretend this day never happened.

A couple of half-hearted calls later, he couldn't convince me to drive all the way out there and I couldn't even convince him to meet me halfway. What does that say about us? It's not that I even wanted a kiss. Staring into his deep blue eyes are enough to make the hurt go away.

Not sure what I even expected for my day... but this turnout is no surprise. It just sucks that's all. I think I have a migrane. Maybe it's just that I haven't had coffee in a couple of days. No matter. Whatever happens... Monday is on its way, and my life can get back to "normal" a.k.a. "boring" again.

This is too much excitement for me.

Hehee...

After having rocked the caspah for several hours last night, we finally realized that Sharif don't like it.

Welcome to the Life of a Dyed-in-the-wool Fraidycat

The dreams have started again. And the little amounts of sleep.

Tonight the dream was about something happening to the weather. Something snapped and there were thundersotmrs and tornadoes, and nothing was ever the same again.

Then I woke up. After only 2 hours of sleep.

It was like this when I moved to Oklahoma too.

I'm a little homesick for a place I didn't really like that much. Plus, I don't know my new home that well.
But that dream felt so real. That tornado, too.

And for some reason, I found myself breathing through a hamburger bun...

The Sunday Seven....

Topics which I want to address this week:

Walk a mile in my shoes: on my first three-mile trek in heels, at 105 degrees outside

It was a long week, but I made it

Town-living

California dreamin' with M.W. on a sunny Sacramento Saturday...

A taste of parenthood: mmm.... Yummy!

Hola, I don't espeak eyour elanguage -- on washing your clothes in a bilingual laundromat

Why it pays to be nice at work: free basketball tickets, and other fun things

Day 3 on the Road... King of the Road...

.... snap.... snap.... snap.... snap

Trailers for sale or rent
Rooms to let, fifty cents
No phone, no pool, no pets
I ain't got no cigarettes
Ah, but, two hours of pushin' broom
Buys an eight by twelve four-bit room
I'm a man of means by no means
King of the road.

Well not exactly, but I picked up M.W. yesterday in Denver, and we were in Cheyenne, Laramie, Salt Lake and Elko today. Tomorrow we'll finish our trip and install me safely into the new place.

I'm a little nerve-wracked because I started to think about what exactly pushed me to come out here? Certainly this is a dream that I've had for the better part of 7 years. Not sure... I've always liked the weather, though.

Doesn't it seem a little crazy to follow your gut when you don't even know why?

The thing that is certain, however, is that I am even more in like with M.W. than I had ever thought.

If I only Had a Banjo.... I'd play me a Theme Song: Day 1 on the Road

Eastbound and Down loaded up and truckin Ah we gonna do what they say can\'t be
done We\'ve got a long way to go and a short time to get there I\'m eastbound
just watch old bandit run

Make that Westbound, won't you? But check it... IF I ONLY HAD A BANJO..... Ain't it funny how when you're moving cross-country, crazy crap like that keeps running through your head?

I'm near Wichita this morning, and am only scheduled to make it to Denver on my own. Then I'm meeting M.W. at our fave chain restaurant and we're gonna have fish-n-chips and cinnamon raisin apples, and push on toward midnight.

Won't you say a prayer for me/us?
Come on... let's hear a clang clang clang and a root toot toot! I'm soooo tired. Let me detail my last 24 hours for you (say all that in an Eric Cartman voice, and add the word "HE-uh" on the end, and we'll all land in a pile of Monkeys!):

Hour 24 through 23: Finished my last hour at the office (an overnight shift), complete with tons of hugs, few tears (a shocker for me) and one last snub of my b@st@rd supervisor.

Hour 23 through 22: Ran my final paycheck to the bank and procured Breakfast

Hour 22 through 19: Slept on the sofa for last day home precuz (hi Jay!) my bed was disassembled.

Hour 18 through 11: Seriously? I packed. And packed and ran up and down the stairs and packed. And got a pizza from L.C. and packed. Hear me and testify if you know what I'm talkin 'bout HE-uh: I drank an entire 2-litre of sodee-pop and did not pee. Not even once. It was that hot.

Hour 11 through 8: Drove myself and all of my earthly possessions north to ICT.

Hour 8 through 7: Got angered by the fact that the friend I was meeting was quite late. Turns out later, that her friend had just had her appendix out over the 4th of July, and had a real scare in the hospital. So my friend went over and fed her kids and kept her friend company while her husband was out of town on a business trip.

Hour 7 through 5: Dished with my friend and was generally glad to see her. We talked about families, about friends, and about the fact that my fingernails are eroding to the quick because they are thin and peely and don't like lifting heavy boxes.

Hour 5 through hour 1: SLEEP. Sweet Sleep. And now I'm up too early and feel like HEECK! But I'm meeting my sweetheart in Denver in the afternoon.

Hour 0 through hour -1: Breakfast, free at the Hotel. The Business Suite was only tw... three dollars exter (hi Jay). So I have high speed connex right now. Wahoo!

Hour -1 through -10: Drivin' to Denver. Meeting my sweetie. I've had a weird feeling all day that we shouldn't continue past our original city tonight. But it's a little weird for me to tell M.W. that I'm worried about pressing on. When he reads this, he should keep in mind that I am conservative with my life, and don't want to play around with my safety. A weird feeling is a weird feeling. And I'm fine with Denver, not fine with Laramie.

One hour at a time
So there you have it. That is my day. See ya tomorrow. Tomorrow is going to be the tough one, as it's Eewtaw and Nebata.

Keep prayin' and I'll get out my banjo and play us a little driving myoozik!

I'm told I kick ass...

That was the comment of a coworker, as we parted for a last time at the Mont. It was probably the highest form of praise which could ever be received from him.

It was fun seeing everyone together one last time. Oh sure, they will be around here and there, in my new location. But it won't ever be this way again. Comfortable.

There are so many uncertainties, it's no wonder that I have a sick tummy. Well that, and the chips and salsa, the 4 diet cokes, and of course, the mushroom swiss burger. And I haven't even eaten the bourbon-pecan pie, yet!

Sacramento will be a change for me, but I'm so full of anticipation, it's almost useless to worry. Friday I hit the road. Won't you say a prayer for me?

It's a song. It's awesome. And it reminds me of M.W.

Even the Best fall down sometimes.
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme

In the Vacuum of my mind
I somehow find that you and I....

Collide.

M.W.: Hey-ya! I'm gonna see my boyfriend! I'm gonna see my boyfriend in Denver on Saturday! Wahooooooo!

ilywamhas

psthankyouformw

Planes, Trains, and Icky Joel Hugs

I saw Joel tonight.

Yes, the same Joel that gave me an icky, unwanted hug in front of M.W. back in San Francisco in March of this year. He was slithering around the operations floor, tan as leather. As I walked by, he didn't even stop to say hello (which I didn't care, but wait till you hear what comes next)... but instead, he put his hand down away from his side, and held it out to (gulp, gag, help me) brush my hand with!

Don't get me wrong... I'm not saying that the man sets out to "on purpose" harass... but come on! He's got to realize that people don't touch in the work place!

Anyways, upon leaving here for the Golden State... I'm glad that I will be missing the icky Joel hugs from now on. But kinda sad that I don't forecast for Planes, trains, and automobiles anymore.

Of Hubberds' and Howarths':

Strong women are required, to make a farmer's wife.

When I went Home to Michigan, my Dad's Aunt passed away. I had the unique opportunity to reconnect with much of the family.

The family -- immediate and extended -- is late for everything. Even the funeral was later than socially acceptable... an entire week after the loved one departed! Late for her own funeral.

Well anyways, I started thinking of my Grandma Hubberd, who was a Howarth. She was strong, talented, and hard-working. So were her sisters, my Great Aunt Ruth (laziest), and Great Aunt Ellen (the nurse). But Grandma was a farmer's wife. Her brothers were Uncle Hank (truckdriver) and Uncle Ben ("grand poobah").

In speaking with my cousin Joanie, she reminded me of a little remembered fact when I was a child: Grandma was incapaciated after a stroke, and Grandpa became a bit abusive toward her. It was like we all tried to not remember it... but my folks totally agreed that it was a valid memory. Joanie said that she did not like to think of it, but I can barely remember anything about her. So Joanie did say that she had a psychology class that offered this: Sometimes the family caretaker is abused when he or she falls ill, and is then asked to become dependant upon those who he or she used to attend to.

She Wasn't Very Nice
Uncle Ben's wife was the one who passed. She was pretty fretful as a human being, and she was never nice to Grandma, my dad, my mom, or myself. But her daughters had a lot of nice things to say about her. While one supposes that daughters should have nice things to say about their moms, I began thinking about her daughters.

Annabeth is a precocious know-it-all, aged 3, in the body of a 55 year old woman. It ain't pretty, folks. If anyone in my immediate family makes up a story or exaggerates the truth, my Dad calls them Annabeth.

Pam flew the coop. Literally. She moved to Texas and raised her family there. I love her so much. And her family. She reminds me of me.

Thinking of Other Howarth woman:
Annabeth has a daughter named Joanna. Pam has daughters Sarah and Emily. Aunt Ruth's daughter is Mary, and her daughter is Erica. Her son's daughters are Amy and Rachel. Grandma had no daughters, but three sons, two who had daughters. Joanie is the daughter of Uncle G, and then there's me and Jayleigh, who are the daughters (!) of Dad. To my knowledge, Uncle Hank never had kids. Aunt Ellen raised Los Ninas, who I can't seem to understand, but apparently has never done a hard day's work in her life (I hate to be violent, but she reminds me of this girl at work, whose pinky-finger I want to snap off!).

So, save for Los Ninos, we're all successful in our own right. We made the world our way. We are independant and happy and soul-free!

I think adding on the Hubberd gene for me, Jayleigh and Joanie added an extra ounce of "fire" to our souls. We ain't no shrinkin' violets -- and we were the first girls in our family in 150 years.

B@LLZ!

Go here and have a BALL!

T minus Three Days and Counting...

It's the first of the last nights that I will have to work, ever. I'm tired, I've been packing for 3 days, and I'm not sure if it will all get done on time.

In the past, I've joked that you get to a certain point in the packing, where you could just decide to say "screw it" and take a scoop shovel and empty the remainder of your belongings into a dumpster. I'm not quite there yet.

In moving, the executive decision was reached to give away the lions share of my belongings, and start afresh, in the Golden State. Reason being, that it was going to be more expensiver (hi jayleigh!) to move everything, than those things cost in the first place!!! So I was trying to sell things, now I'm trying to give them away. Today I found my wedding gown. It wasn't even hard to not look at it. I put it in the Goodwill pile.

Somehow, I can't seem to leave the wedding album behind. Although I have not looked at it in over a year... today my therapist mentioned that it is part of "my story" and someday, I may regret not seeing myself as a young and beautiful woman... I may miss seeing my folks when they were dressed beautifully, and especially seeing my idealistic self. Full of expectations and hope. Full of anticipation and ideas. Full of anxiety and completely terrified. Of what I was afraid would happen if I wasn't a "good girl" and of what did happen, even though I was.

So my story stays but the trappings of my wedding will finally go. Along with many of the clothes that I owned when I was married. And gifts that although I really loved them, I will part with, because they were from him. And furniture. And shoes. And thoughts, feelings, and memories that although long dormant, I have not forgotton in the two places I've lived since divorcing nearly a year ago.

M.W. and I have talked at length about the ways in which one grieves at the loss of a relationship. He grieved little after his divorce. I still grieve. Not for him... but for the fact that I could not, no matter how hard I tried, keep the relationship from failing. Because I don't want him back. But I'm still mad that I had to go through all of that.

But I'm not mad that I am moving to California on Friday. I'm not mad that I'm living my dream, taking my future by the b@lls, and making the most of everything I have!

The Last Week

Well, somebody noticed that I ain't been postin'. Guess why? Because I'm moving to Cali on Friday!!!! Wahoo! Career-type job, great location, and nearer to my sweetie!

I'm a little fed up with packing, as given by the photog below.

The Last Day
Yesterday was a day to see old friend and school-mates here in Oklahoma. Three meals and I only paid for one of them. Breakfast, Lunch and Dessert. No, not dinner... but at least it started with a "D". It was at dinner time, too.

Today, I said goodbye to my friends from LifeChurch.tv... I'm gonna miss them more than they will ever know. It wasn't the goodbye that sucked. But knowing that there is always a place in God's family that I, Dorothy, actually feels comfortable.

The Next Day
M.W. is flapping his wings all the way to DEN this weekend, to help me drive my crap out to my new home in the Valley. I'm going to swing by the aeropuerto on my way through town, and then beat feet west.

Go West Young (wo)Man!!!!
Hahaha... Lalala... Hehehe... Me me me!!!