"As if sexuality is a game like that!"

Mark's reaction to "Boy Meets Boy." I have to agree, and to admire him for his distaste.

I have decided to start blogging. I hear all the cool kids are doing it. Seriously, I'm trying to get back into some form of self-discipline as a writer, and my old-school journaling just isn't cutting it. I can't write long-hand anymore. Depressing. So hopefully I can introduce a few friends of mine to this blog and have somewhat of a writing support group.

Or at least write without hand cramps.

An online friend of mine has a really really excellent blog that I just read a month's worth of entries. She's inspiring me. Thanks, Flea.

Anyways...we now have way way more cable channels than we ought. I think this bodes ill for my school future. We even have the BBC and IFC and...

Uh oh.

We went to this strange little theatre production the other night with Susan and Tony. It was an exploration of communication using only "H" words (and so the playwright told us at the end, rendering all other interpretations of the previous 45 minutes null and void--I hate it when they do that). Anyway, it has me thinking in "H" words. Here are some good ones that they didn't use:
histrionics
hieroglyph
hemmorhage
heliotrope

The word the play ended with was "hope." If it had been a lot more subtle, I would have liked that. Most of the time, I think hope is really all there is.

I'm not doing a wonderful job keeping this up. Oh well. I suck.

Mark's parents are leaving tomorrow morning, so I think we have to go out to some schmancy dinner tonight. Hopefully the food will be good, because I'd really rather put on pajamas and park it on the couch. I don't know why I am so freaking exhausted right now, but I just have no energy.

I suspect it's because I am on a 100% sugar diet. I have got to stop eating like this if I want to stop feeling like ass.

I am looking forward to the weekend. I am going to have to spend 90% of it doing school work, but at least I won't have to be at school or at work. I like school and I like work, but I am feeling like I'm not spending as much time as I'd like at home lately. I'm such a pathetic homebody.

I'm really scared my grandma is going to die.

Chance barfed up a sock this morning. A whole freaking sock. Not even one of those little quarter sized socks. Nasty nasty nasty. How can something with a digestive system no bigger than mine swallow an entire goddamn sock??

Susan and I went to see The Magdalene Sisters last night. Heavy, depressing stuff, but one of the best made films I've seen in awhile. It struck that balance, being heavy enough to be realistic and to keep you interested and concerned about what was going on, but having a few moments of levity so that you didn't turn off completely because it was 2 hours of nonstop depressing. I really liked it. I want to read a book about that situation now.

Big excitement this evening. Just as Mark and Chance and I were driving up the street on the way back from doggie class and there was a big accident right at the intersection practically in front of our house. Two completely smashed cars, and the kid who ran the stop sign and caused it got out of his car and ran. Mark just came in and told me that he left his license in the car, though, stupid fuck. It's going to suck to be him in awhile.

Who the hell hits someone and then runs away without even seeing if they are OK?

I had the worst dreams last night. All of these related vignettes about Simon and how bad living with him and dating him and attempting to trust and/or love him was. Mostly stuff very inspired by real life. But real life years ago! What's going on with it popping back into my head now? Strange stuff. I am glad to be awake now.

I have some errands to get done (I get to buy stuff with joint account money, yay!) before the game starts at 2. It's 11 and I haven't even showered yet. Have I mentioned how irrationally much I love weekends?

Tomorrow I have to go to some lab picnic thing with Mark in some state park. I'm less than thrilled. For some reason I really don't want to go. Mostly I don't mind that kind of stuff, but I'm in such a big "I want to be alone" phase, I would so much rather he just go and I have several hours at home by myself. Not going to happen, though, as it would cause some pretty chilly weather in this household if I told him I won't go.

Last night we went to see Lost in Translation with Susan and Tony. I think I liked it more than anyone else in the group did. There were certain things about it that irritated the fuck out of me (like the girl always being in her underwear and the preponderance of karioke), but the general tone of it really impressed me. I related to it, to the loneliness and the confusion, and that always sells me on a film.

Hanging out with Susan and Tony so much is so great. I got all worried on the drive back home last night that we are availing ourselves of their company too much and they are getting sick of us and are just too polite to say anything. I really hope that's not the case. I honestly think my wanting to hang out with them so much has very little to do with not having any other friends here--I didn't really have any friends left in Portland by the time we left, and I was pretty content to just hang out by myself and with Mark. I just really LIKE doing things with Susan and Tony. I really hope they feel the same way about us as we do about them, since they aren't in our situation and presumably could be choosing to do other things with their other friends.

Inferiority complex much? Sheesh.

One thing Mark and I were talking about last night that is really peripheral to why we like Susan and Tony so much but is a good side benefit is the age difference. They are 10 years older than we are, but it feels totally normal to hang out with them. Weird as it sounds, they make me feel SO much better about aging. Looking at them I feel like it's totally possible to get older and more mature and consider stuff like buying a house, getting married, having a baby, etc. and still not lose yourself the way you always have been. That is such a great thing.

I'm rambling on and on and I've got to go take a shower and get my shit done if I want to be back in time for kickoff. Plus Chance is making a very strange noise...

Goodness but I'm muddled.

So the school list serve is 1% interesting or useful information, 50% people wanting to sell or buy football tickets, 49% announcements about school social events I couldn't care less about. On Friday there was something called the "Booze Cruise," which I think was about like it sounds--bunch of people getting smashed out on a boat. Today, someone posted some pictures from the event. I flipped through them and saw some of the insipid people from my classes were there, as well as a few of the less insipid people. I would rather poke myself in the eye with sharp sticks than attend one of these parties.

Why, then, do I feel all left out and like I'm not one of the cool crowd (uh, cuz you're not, dumbass)? I was invited. I could have gone. I didn't want to. It wouldn't have been fun. It would have been stupid. I'm completely uninterested in having an school-centered social life. I've had a really good relaxing weekend at home. So where does the jealousy come from? I think it's sad and pathetic that these people are still reliving their undergraduate experiences, I want no part of it.

Why do I get so disgusted with myself for being antisocial? I have friends, both the ones that are scattered to the four winds and the ones here (Susan and Tony). I don't WANT these social climbing nitwit wanna-be politicians as friends.

But I guess I still want them to want me...:(

Sleepy-deepy. Tony and Susan came over tonight, we all ate pizza and watched Baz's Romeo and Juliet. Susan hadn't seen it before. It was a good time. Susan and Tony left us some other movies to watch. They did that last time they came over as well. Plus we have three more from Netflix. We are awash in movies. I really really wish I could find some time to watch some of them.

I need to consult my list, but I feel like I accomplished a good amount today. Tomorrow's agenda includes the football game, reading, doing laundry, reading, reading and reading. Trying to get something out for an essay for this scholarship app. and some writing for my PRP would be good, too.

And maybe some preliminary research on internships. I met with the internship coordinator today, though, and it sounds like I am in good shape. I need to rework my resume, though, so I will have it on hand if something comes up. Should probably try to get to that this weekend as well. We'll see.

I have an econ midterm in less than two weeks. I definitely need to learn some damn econ.

For now, though, I am quite tired. I think it's time for bed.

Em posted a question on the Ms. boards re: "If someone gave you $100 with the express directions to "treat yourself," what would you buy?" I had the hardest time thinking of anything. I could think of lots of ways I'd like to treat Mark, Susan and Tony, etc. My first response was that I'd buy stuff to send care packages to all of my friends afar who are having rough times. At first, I was like, "how cute, look how selfless I am." Then I realized it is much more a case of my treating myself ALL THE FREAKING TIME. Most of the things other people listed are things that I buy for myself regularly, or would, if I wanted them.

No wonder I have a spending problem.

Update your blog, she says. So update my blog I will.

School is just kicking my ass. There is no other way to put it. Suddenly I have rounded the corner from happily overwelmed to freakily overwelmed, and I am not enjoying it. If I could just get a good day's work done I know I'd feel much better, but I am so tired and so distractable...it's not happening. I work for a little while, then I check my email, read The Phoenix, see if anyone needs to be authorized, pet the dog, get some cookies...it's ridicluous.

To be fair, though, I did crank out a PFM memo in fairly short order this morning. I have no idea if it is any good or not (my guess is no), but it is one more thing I can cross off my list. If I have time to go back later and edit it, all the better. If not, so be it. I have other stuff to do.

The Phoenix is rocking and rolling with 75 members and over 700 posts in the past 3 1/2 days. I feel a sense of accomplishment, which is nice. Unfortunately, I am letting it keep me from stuff I really should be focusing on, like my fucking econ midterm. Oh well.

The weather here has turned a little chilly and windy, as if it's really fall. As long as it doesn't last too long, I'm all for it. The trouble is that it feeds right into my urge to curl up in the papasan and read, not do the work I need to get done. Esh. Are you sensing a theme, here?

I did school Day of Service volunteer stuff yesterday. It was pretty much a waste of time. My group was assigned to paint this multimedia room at Johnston HS, which would have been cool, except the guy in charge of the project was in no way ready. He didn't have neccessary supplies, the room wasn't cleaned, blah blah. It was a hassle. I stuck it out for almost three hours, but then I bailed. I got a pretty cool bright green tshirt out of the deal, though. Next time I will follow my gut instincts and go for the library book-sorting project. :)

OK. Back to work. I swear.

It is a rainy drizzly Sunday morning, which is just perfect. It only compounds my desire to curl up in the papasan and read all day. True, I will have to read economics and stuff for my PD paper, but you can't win 'em all.

I'm in an interesting discussion about school dress codes and uniforms on The Phoenix. I'm not sure where it's going, and I'm not 100% sure I'm right, but it's an issue that deserves some real feminist analysis, I think. The subject of young female sexuality is one that most of us won't touch with a ten-foot pole, and I think that is a failing. It only serves to make young women more confused and stigmatized when we try to protect them in this way.

What else is going on today? We took Chancey for a nice, only slightly drizzly walk a bit ago. Mark is on the phone with Nace now, talking about his stupid NSF application. I will be SO glad when that thing is done.

Strangely, I am really looking forward to Mark being gone for a few days. I'm sure I will miss him like crazy and I will hate taking care of Chancey all by myself, but I really feel like I could use the time alone. Maybe it's just all the academic pressure and shit, but I just feel very compressed right now and like some personal decompression time would be just what the doctor ordered.

I am sad it's Sunday already. Weekends go too fast.

Still haven't heard back from Jenny or Natalie. Man do I ever feel lame.

Ug. I should be very happy about today--all I have is an hour or so meeting at noon, the rest of the day is completely free (well, I have to drop the car off at the repair shop and then walk home, but other than that). But I feel very ugh this morning. I'd like to go back to bed. Showering didn't even make me feel better. Maybe walking Chancey will.

This period thing just fucking sucks. The problem with only having a period every three months is that I forget what a collosal pain in the ass it is and then I am surprised when it comes. It hurts, it's messy, I have a headache, I have cramps, and I just don't feel like myself. Most inconvenient.

I was reading an essay last night about periods and PMS and how they have been pathologized, etc. It was interesting, pointing out that if we lived in different kind of society, women might be able to see their periods as giving them times of enlightenment, creativity, etc. I honestly don't feel any more creative or sensitive or anything, though. I just feel put out. I wish I could make it go away completely, or just hibernate until it's over.

That is probably not a very healthy feminist POV, but there you have it.

As has been the case for awhile, I have an extremely large amount of shit that I really need to get going on, and I'm not doing a goddamn thing. My excuse has been that Mark needs to use the computer all the time until his NSF application is done, but that excuse is going to run out today. I wonder what my next excuse will be? I really just need to buckle down and get to work, but I don't feel like I have it in me right now.

Yuck. This is a depressing morning.

My head has been pounding for 24 hours now. It is making me less-than-thrilled.

I have lots to do at work now. I think perhaps I am on a little bit thinner ice than I previously suspected, due to all of this stalker bullshit. Sucks. The stuff I am doing is really really interesting, though, and I'd rather be busy than not.

May be going to a movie with Susan and Tony tonight (haven't heard back yet). Right now I am counting the minutes until I can leave, because my head is throbbing and I want to get my stupid grocery shopping done and get home ASAP. I came in a bit early, too, so I can leave in just a few minutes. Everyone else is already gone.

So I am sitting here looking out the window at Chance's attempts to chase squirrels. He is very dismayed that he can't climb trees and they can. It's hilarious.

We went to quite a good movie last night, Pieces of April. Teenditzactress Katie Holmes makes a surprising turn as the bad daugther in a falling apart family. That sounded very review-esque, didn't it? Well, I don't want to bother explaining the plot, but it was good, you should see it.

Susan cried. It was so cute.

It strangely made me miss my fam, though. Wonder if I will ever get old enough to stop missing my mom? I wish my mom were better at talking on the phone.

I have a big list of stuff to do today. Put chunks in my hair, lots of cleaning, the enivitable school work. Only four weeks left...

I can't think of a damn thing that is even slightly interesting to say.

So there is something wrong with my shoulder. It's like the pain that I had when Chancey pulled my shoulder out that one time, but a bit less. And it's persistant. Taking a shirt off over my head just about makes me cry.

Great. A health problem. Just what I don't have time for.

I am in miserable fucking pain. It's only 11 and I really should stay up for a couple of hours and get some work done, but my shoulder is killing me and all I want is to take a bath and then get in bed with the heating pad. I spent the evening watching movies with Susan and Tony, which was fun, but it would have been 100% more enjoyable if I weren't in such fucking pain. I honestlly don't know how I am going to get out of my shirt this evening--every arm motion hurts. Driving is becoming increasingly problematic.

Chancey was really good on the walk and didn't pull on me at all, thank God.

We watched "Spirited Away" tonight, which I liked, though it confused me. I would like to see it on a big screen or at least a really large TV, because the animation was pretty cool. We also watched a short film called "Book of Life," which I wasn't crazy about. It was funny in parts, but it struck me as pseudo-religious pretention, which gets really old really fast.

I haven't heard from Adam, so I don't know if he's coming this week or not. I hope he is, because it would be good to see him, but I also hope he's not, because I will get even less done with him here. Maybe if he just comes for one night or something. We'll see. I'm sure he'll turn up.

Chancey is being pretty affectionate tonight. I think he misses Mark.

I should probably erase that, lest my stalker know I am here alone. Fuck that. Come and fucking get me.

Alright, I am going to work. I swear.

I think maybe I am feelling better. Walking Chancey was nice--it is a lovely night. He's still hyper, of course, but I'm trying to ignore him. My shoulder is still really bugging me, so I am going to take a bath with some nice lime bath salts here in a bit.

I saw the funniest thing on our walk. We passed a house on our usual route, and the garage door was open. The inside of the garage was packed, floor to ceiling, with all manner of shit. Boxes, bags, loose stuff, bicycle tires...everything you could imagine, precariously stacked. At the very age of the rubble was an old man, sitting in a folding chair. He was watching a tiny (six inch?) black and white TV.

How random is that? I wish I could draw the scene, as the picture in my mind is far more amusing than the one painted by my brief description above.

I am hoping that getting a discussion going on The Phoenix about HPV will lead me to a breakthrough on this stupid paper. The whole thing (and then some) is written in my head and has been forever, but I just can't get it out. I don't know why I am so enamored with this topic...but I am. This is the trouble with picking topics you are highly personally invested in for papers--it's impossible to get started. I am rethinking entering an abstract into the Women's Studies Forum, as the deadline is Friday and I have less than a paragraph completed (though I have a huge marked up stack of articles right by my left elbow).

Adam is coming after all. He'll be here Wednesday night, just for one night. It will be good to see him, if I don't get any more depressed. If I do get more depressed, I am really going to dread having to play hostess. We'll see.

OK. My shoulder hurts. Bath.

Today is my day completely off, or so I have ordained. My schedule will be as follows:

sleep late (which I did)
take Chance for a walk (I already did that, too, we just got back)
take a shower (that's up next)
curl up in the papasan and watch a depressing documentary about Poland
read the Sunday times, but only the parts that interest me and not the parts that I think I should read
go to Target and the Goodwill and spend money, but not too much money
hang out with Susan/go to a matinee
come home and lie around watching TV all evening
take a long hot bath
go to bed

Sounds good, huh? I have a sneaking suspicion in the back of my mind that I'll be tempted to do some much-needed housework or proof my paper or something, but that can all wait until tomorrow. Today is my day. I've earned it.

Do Whatever I Want Day delimmma: It is 9:15. I have been doing whatever I want all day, and it's been quite fufilling. Now I'm home, Mark is still really sick, and there are several chores that need to be done. Should I do them now, or leave them until tomorrow?

I am thinking leave them until tomorrow. I'll walk the dog, but other than that, they can all wait. It's good for me to learn to leave things go a bit, and the whole idea of DWIWD would sort of be moot if I ruined it with chores now. It will all still be there (unfortunately) tomorrow.

So there.

Do Whatever I Want Day has been a raging success. It's now 11:30, I'm thinking about bed, and I haven't done a single thing I didn't want to do all day. No chores, no homework, nothing. I am definitely going to have to schedule days like this in a couple more times before the end of the semester if things get too tense. This has worked like a charm--I feel ready to go on and work hard now.

Which is good, since shit is about to start up again tomorrow morning.

Mark is watching "The Rules of Attraction" in the living room. I am glad I can't see it, because just hearing it is bad enough. Stupid shit. Why are most movies so stupid?

I really want some movies that I want to see to come to a theater near me. I love going to the movies. I went to this bizarre film with Susan and Tony tonight. It was really well-done, even though the movie was ass-stupid. I do not understand Mexican wrestling. The masks sort of freak me out, though. They remind me of nasty bondage gear or something.

What a great morning. Slept late (after 10!) and then walked Chance. The weather is amazing--sunny, 70s and windy. Chance actually behaved on our walk, too. All in all, a very good way to start the day.

Now I have to go to campus for two group meetings and a class, but I'm sure it will be fine. Also, I finished the problem set in record time yesterday, which makes me feel real cool.

Listen to Mary Prankster. For real. She's amazing. I'm so excited to have new music. Now I just have to get paid so I can actually buy her CDs instead of downloading her.

I wish I could think of more political and social commentary to put on here, but honestly it's just turning out to be a space where I vent about my life. There is nothing really wrong with that, I suppose, but I don't see why anyone would want to read it.

It's possible that we may have a new addition to our happy household.

Last night when we were walking Chance (it was 11:30 or so), we got by the gated condo community where I always encourage him to pee, and a cat started following us. We tried to keep Chancey's attention and figured it would go away after awhile. We were wrong. It followed us (at very close range) the entire way home. Then, when we got home, it ran up to the porch and attempted to go inside with us. So Mark took Chancey inside and I brought the kitty some milk. It's a smallish long-haired cat (really funny looking, actually, like with a Siamese body and tail and a calico face) and it's pretty thin, no collar, full claws. It sat on my lap and purred and I petted it. I have no idea whether or not it's a stray, but it's obviously a pretty damn spunky cat if it's willing to even get close to us with monster dog around. Mark and I talk about it and realize there is no way we can bring it in--Chance would kill it, even if he didn't mean to. So I figure if it's still around in the morning, we can start feeding it outside and see what happens. With the claws and everything it should be OK with being an outside cat.

In the morning it seemed to be gone, so I figured it had moved on.

Wrong.

Mark and Chance were just outside, and the cat showed back up. And took a stand against Chancey. Chance barked and growled and the cat stood his/her ground and gave him a swipe across the nose that drew blood.

So...we'll see. S/he seems to like it here. Maybe we can work something out.

I am so thankful.

This has been an amazing Thanksgiving. Mark and I did a great job with the food and we've just had a wonderful day. I'm really really happy we decided to stay home and just have it be us. We even gave Chancey a big plate of food, which he demolished in 30 seconds or so. It was hysterical. And Mark and I both conked out for like two hours after dinner. We're going to be eating leftovers for a month.

In a more general way, though, I am very thankful for my life. Things are going well. In general, I am happy and healthy and stable and secure. Mark and I are doing wonderfully and we feel permanent to me. I'm worried about my mom's back, but there is really nothing I can do about that from here, so I should try not to worry about it more than I have to. Hopefully she can have the surgery while I am in Oregon over Christmas. I want to be able to help her...

My presentations this week have stressed me out, but things are going very well. I am really happy with both of my groups. Group work experiences have been so up-and-down (mostly down) for me in the past, group work was something I was really worried about at LBJ, and I these experiences have made me feel much better about it. This is good.

I'm attempting to get my internship requirement for the summer waived. I'll try to do an internship anyway, but if I do it for credit, as is required, I have to pay out-of-state tuition on it, which amounts to about $2,000. That's a huge fucking waste. So hopefully they will waive me on the basis of the work I am doing at Texans Care now. I doubt they will, but it's worth a try. That will mean I have to take one more class next year, but that's really no big deal, especially since it won't change my tuition costs (and I get a waiver on the out-of-state portion for the academic year). If I get the waiver it will also allow me to be more creative in what I decide to do for the summer. So I'm going to finish the waiver app this weekend and hope for the best.

It's amazing how cold it feels in here when it's 53 degrees outside. My feet are like icecubes.

Mark is doing better this week with work/school stuff too, which is really nice. I worry that he'll resent me if he doesn't like it here. I know he likes Austin, but the school thing is so mixed. I have high hopes for Hitoshi's lab, though. Hitoshi came over the night for a few minutes. He's really funny. Japanese James Cagney is exactly the right way to describe him.

I haven't been writing in my blog as much lately because I have been busy, but there has been another reason as well. I have blog-envy. I read Flea's blog and it's so damn good--interesting, funny, well-written...makes me wonder why I bother with it when all I do is blab on and on about my not-very-interesting life. Then I feel really stupid for my envy, because honestly, I don't want a kid that puts shitty underwear in my coffee pot*. And if I had one, I don't think I'd find the energy to write about it like Flea does. I really admire her.

Anyways...blabber blabber blabber. Mark is on the phone with his parents. Chance is curled up on the floor. All is good.

But I need to go put some socks on.

* Actually, I just don't want a kid. The shitty underwear and the coffee pot are side issues. And I don't even have a coffee pot.

I've been asked for a kitty update:

She stayed here for a couple of days, but then followed us on our walk one evening and didn't follow us home. I was really worried about her, but hoped someone else had taken her in. Then, on Sunday, we were walking Chance and we ran into Laura, a wonderful young Japanese woman who lives in our neighborhood with a beautiful and very well-trained Bernese Mountain Dog, Mokie. We stopped and chatted with Laura and Mokie for a few minutes, and lo and behold, that silly cat started darting out and teasing the dogs. I was so excited to see her, but I was even moreexcited when Laura told us that she has taken her in and that the cat and Mokie are tolerating each other fine. Laura was obviously really excited to have a cat, and she's able to let the cat inside and everything, so it seems meant to be. I hope she comes and visits again. She's obviously really independant. However, even if she doesn't, I couldn't wish for a better owner for her.

My stomach is upset, my glasses are dirty, the sound of South Park filtering from the other room is irritating me, and I really want to go to bed, even though it's not even 9:30.

On the upside, though, my first semester of classes at the Lyndon Baines Johnson School of Freezing Your Ass Off is over. PE was my last class today, and what a way to go out! The presentation went well, we turned the paper in, and everything is all wrapped up in a nice, tidy bundle. One class completely finished. And the most difficult class, at that.

So why am I so cranky? Decompression, I suppose. That and I have eaten nothing but absolute garbage today (really, it's been terrible), so I just feel like general ass. I'm going to do better tomorrow, I swear (she says, knowing full well she has NOTHING in the fridge to take to work for lunch tomorrow).

I am strangely nervous about going back to work--after being gone for two weeks, I feel like it is going to be uncomfortable or weird or something. That is dumb, I know, but there it is.

Ick. My stomach is really queasy. Maybe Mark can walk the dog by himself. I so just want to curl up and sleep.

I am sleepy.

There is no good reason I should be--it's been a relatively lazy day. I did get up reasonably early and go to Costco, but then I napped and just hung out and edited my final paper for policy development, ate yummy dinner and sat around watching the Two Towers DVD. I love Saturday.

I also love that classes are over for many weeks. If I also didn't have to work, I'd really be stoked, but I need the money and they need the help, so I'm on for three days a week while I'm in town. That should still give me enough time to write my PRP paper and learn calculus for the qualifying exam. Really.

Before any of that, though, it is Christmas baking time. That was the major purpose of my Costco trip today--baking supplies. I got most everything I need (economy sugar, butter, etc.), so I think I'm ready to get started. I sat down this evening and wrote a Christmas cards/people to bake for list. I may start tomorrow. Really, though, I should study for my PFM final first.

I just want school to be over. The PFM final is all I have hanging over my head, though, and that's only until Wednesday and I'm really not that worried about it, so I think it's all good.

I wanted to write about Costco:

I am embarrassed that I enjoy Costco so much. By all rights, as a thinking anti-consumerist individual (OK, in spirit but no in practice...), I ought to hate Costco. It's a bastion of more is better, bigger is better. Buy shit you don't need, and buy four times more of it than you could ever use. Brilliant plan. But something about the bizarrely large quantities appeals to me.

For some reason I am drawn to things that are larger or smaller than I think they should be. Miniatures, like dollhouse furniture and baby liquor bottles, and large stuff, like Costco. I wonder where the preoccupation with size comes from?

Anyway, Costco wasn't as bad as I expected it to be today. Going there on a Saturday morning a few weekends before Christmas was not a brilliant plan, but it worked out OK. I'm in list mode, so here's what I bought:
-Two Towers DVD
-holiday cards (they are peace-oriented and non-holiday specific)
-NY strip steak
-pesto
-almond poppyseed muffins
-brown sugar
-white sugar
-chocolate chips
-butter
-Oreos
-Cheerios
-a six-pack of colored bell peppers
-granola bars
-peanut butter (it comes in packages of two regular sized jars now, which is way cool)
-Ghiradelli brownie mix
-milk (they have organic 2% there, but no organic skim, which is irritating. I couldn't buy skim there anyway, though--I don't drink it fast enough)

Probably more stuff as well, but that's all I can remember.

Fascinating, huh? Aren't you glad you read my blog? I know you were dying to see my grocery list.

You know what is cool? Holographic snowflake tin foil. Very badass. One more thing that I should write off as silly, stupid consumerism, but I just...can't.

Oh well, at least I have something nice to wrap the holiday baking in, right?

I think biscotti and shortbread are the first items up for bids. Maybe gingerbread as well, if I can find a suitable recipe.

Shit.

Why am I freaking out about this AGAIN?

I have to go and get my cervix scraped this afternoon (Pap smear/annual exam). I'm overdue, as I was supposed to get one in six months after my last one came back abnormal, and that was in May. I have a pretty definite feeling they are going to find something this time, something that's not just "a little weird" but that needs to be frozen or cut out. And I know that's no big deal, it's not even real surgery, it's easy to take care of, etc., but I'm still flipping out.

To make matters worse, Mark and I had sex for the first time in probably a month last night, completely forgetting about the "no intercourse for 24 hours before the pap smear" rule. I've broken that rule before and nothing has happened, but damn, you'd think we could have thought about that. (Sorry for the TMI, but I need to write about this and I have decided I'm going to try to censor my blog less, since I don't have another journal anymore--if you are uncomfortable knowing this much about my life, you don't have to read it, right?).

So. Blah. I'm all twitchy. Maybe taking the dog for a walk will help.

Dear Person Who Irritates Me,

Please stop going out of your way to irritate me. If you do not, I may start screaming and never stop. I may abuse my power like a petty little dictator. I may hunt you down and beat you with a wet noodle. I have a monster headache, I'm fat, I had to get a Pap smear today, and I think my dog is getting sick. I need to start holiday baking and I am not in the Christmas spirit. Mark is going to call me to come pick him up at some point, and that irrationally pisses me off. To make a long story short, I'm not in the fucking mood to deal with your passive aggressive horseshit today. Go ruin the hard work and soul of someone else for awhile.

Fuck you,

Grace

What a generally irritating day. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

On the plus side, my biscotti look great. Too bad I don't actually like almond-anise biscotti.

I don't remember the crampy post-Pap smear feeling usually lasting this long. It blows goats. I just want to take more Advil and go to bed.

Which I will, in a few minutes. Mark is walking Chancey without me. I walked him this morning and walked all over campus today, so I think I am OK for excercise for the time being.

I was wondering if walking Chance "counts" as 20 mins/day (even though it's 20 mins twice a day, usually) of physical activity? I don't break a sweat, my heart rate doesn't much accelerate, but I am walking. Is it worth the time, workout wise? Is there something else I should be doing to supplement it that wouldn't be too much of a time strain? I'd like to start lifting weights (arm definition, rather than just arm flab, would be great), but I can't muster up the energy.

I can't muster up the energy to write anything worth reading here, either. Fuck it, I'm going to bad. Probably best just to call this day a loss and move on to tomorrow.

I'm feeling better about the weight stuff--I am much more confident that I can do something about it if it's that important to me. And given the very important point Mark brought up about the vericosity in my legs already and the compounding effect extra weight has on that problem, it is becoming very important to me.

But enough about that.

I am finished with my first semester at LBJ--the final yesterday went fine and now I really do have time off. I'm already nervous about the prospect (yeah, right) of learning enough calc to take the validation exam in January, but I'm going to give myself a couple more days before I start freaking out about that or my PRP paper. This is, after all, supposed to be vacation, and it's bad enough that I have to work 3 days/week during my supposed "vacation."

I'm having a good morning at work this morning, though. I finally found data for two of the things that were hanging over my head from the maternal and child health indicators list. I knew they were there all along, it has just taken ages to find them. I should take another look at the JJ stuff while I'm on a roll.

My baking bonanza was a partial success. My biscotti didn't meet the Mark test, and some of my shortbread broke and thus became Mark's tea biscuits, but I think everything else is OK. The gingerbread men and sugar cookies look nice, and I'm pretty confident the pound cakes will be good. The fudge is a little bit soft, but it should harden over the next couple of days, and soft fudge isn't the worst thing in the world. So tonight I need to start getting it all packaged up and sent off. The problem is that there are other things I wnat to send to some of the folks I am planning to ship it too. I think I might just skip that, though. No need to let Christmas be overwelming. I got about half a dozen cards sent out on Tuesday as well, so that's going pretty well. Need to do some more tonight. Writing out Christmas cards makes me feel strangely grown up, and signing Mark's name to them as well as my own makes me feel...married. It's odd, but sort of nice, in the same way it's nice to refer to Mark and Chancey as my "family."

Emily is off to stay with her parents for a few days. Her mom really sounds like she's not doing well, and I apparently I am talking about it a lot, because Mark said something last night about how surprised he is at the effect it's having on me. It's really two things, I think. The first is Emily and wanting to be able to make her feel better and knowing it's simply not possible, and the second is fear that this means my mom could get sick, too. I simply cannot fathom my mother being terminally ill. It's beyond my capacity to comprehend.

I dreamt about Emily's mom last night. I have no idea what she looks like (though I think I have seen a picture at some point), so she had the face of the mom in Pieces of April. I dreamed that I put my hands on her and willed her to live, like Shaedra talks about with her "raiki" or whatever it is. I had some miraculous healing power in the dream, apparently. And I was doing everything I could to make her get better. I woke up with a wet face and a feeling of complete uselessness. There is nothing I can do. Even normal, day-to-day stuff to help Brooke and Emily out would be great, but what the fuck do you do from 1000 miles away? As usual, I wish I were capable of prayer. Though I don't know if God is a help or a hindrance with real grief, I think s/he would certainly be helpful with "sending good thoughts." Sending just my own, unamplified, seems woefully insufficient.

My house is very cold, but my tea is very hot, so it all works out.

Got lucky on a book-buying spree at the Goodwill today. I picked up a multicultural family book for Susan and Tony, Backlash, Susan Brownmiller's rape book, Amy Tan's newest book, and Molly Ivans' book about the Clinton years. That, along with Janet Frame's autobiography (I have to remember to get that from Susan before I leave) should keep me busy while I'm home.

My sense of excitement about going home is pretty repressed now. I'm honestly terrified that my mom is having surgery and that I have to be there and see her through it and stuff. Have to is the wrong way of putting that...I want to, I'm just scared of the responsibility. But at least I have a place to stay in Portland worked out (thanks Sarah!) and hopefully I will be able to make a stock-up swing by Trader Joe's. Wonder if Mark would be mad if a stock-up from Trader Joe's is all he got for Christmas? I'm sort of out of ideas.

I need to get the relaxation packs put together. I meant to make some yoga cards for them, but I don't know if I have the energy now. I wonder how much laminating costs at Kinkos?

Obviously I'm just rambling. Mmm, more stream of conciousness blogging.

I really want to be able to help Emily and her mom. I can't stop thinking about it.

Ah, the Christmas season. Bringing unnecessary stress to a household near you!

Fuck this. Every year I get excited about Christmas in late October/early November. Every year by December 1 am so fucking tired of Christmas.

Mark's family's handling of Christmas makes me fucking crazy. They give each other Christmas lists, complete with name brands, prices, and where to buy. Where is the joy of gift-giving in that? I don't understand that at all. The whole point of gift-giving, the whole thing that makes it fun, is showing a person how you feel about them and how well you know them through what you pick out (or even better, make) for them. The point of commercialization it has gotten to when you give someone a brand-named and priced list makes it completely not worthwhile. And that is for immediate family for fuck's sake!

I feel sort of blah about my own present offerings this year as well. They aren't terrible, but they don't have quite the spark I'd like them to have. Maybe I'll feel better about it once I get everything together. One thing I do knwo, though, is that I didn't break the bank on them, and nobody got something they specifically asked for, but everyone got something I think they will like/use at least a little bit. So that's at least a step in the right direction.

I have no idea why the way Mark's family does things makes me so angry, but it really does. At that point, why bother with presents at all? Just save time and exchange checks.

I continue to be terrified about Mom's surgery. I'm sure it will be fine, but it frighens me nonetheless. I just want it to be over with already. I'm glad I get to spend a few days at home before we go to Portland, just to rest and relax before taking it on. Hopefully she will only have to stay at OHSU for one night.

I said I didn't want dinner, but now whatever Mark is cooking smells really good. Perhaps I should investigate. I'm getting a little bit concerned about my calorie counting, since it makes me think a bunch of times before I eat anything. In a way that's good, obviously, but I don't want to become someone who gets no joy out of food. I love food, and I plan to continue loving food. Just got to learn to love it a bit more responsibly.

On the blog I post on with my group of college friends, we've begun to talk elections. The more I post and read their posts, the more concrete my position seems. I am still working it all out in my head, but the bottom line is that I don't really support the Democrats. That isn't exactly big news--I haven't been registered Dem for years--but I *really* don't support them. I'm not sure we'd be in a much better position than we are now if Gore had taken office three years ago. I'm not sure we'll be in a much better position a few years from now if Dean somehow manages to win. I'm not sure there is much difference whatsoever between the animated corpses on the "right" and those on the "left."

I sound so stupid when I get started on this, but sometimes I think we're on our way to the revolution, and the only way we're going to get there is with four or eight or twelve or sixteen more years of bad conservative government. We're so fat and lazy, so apathetic and uninformed, it is no wonder we are in this position. The question is what will it take to shake us out of it? What will it take before the people demand real choices, before we demand a return to our civil liberties, before we demand that this country become what it could be?

In some ways, I hope that things *will* get worse, so that they can get better. This particular equilibrium is just not OK with me.

But then I wonder how much worse, and I get scared just like everyone else. I wonder how willing I am to fight if things do get bad. If abortion is outlawed, will I work on the underground? Will the line I draw between peaceful protest and actual organized resistance blur? When? How can I call for revolution when I'm not sure that I myself am willing to come out of my complacency and help it happen? Given how complacent I am, why don't I just shut up and register Dem and vote the-lesser-of-two-evils like everyone else?

Well, I'm here. And that's about all I can say about it. I have to keep in mind that it's always miserable at first and I feel like ass, but I'll get some sleep and adjust to the way things are here and I'll be fine. Not enough sleep last night and all day flying makes me cranky, and I'm sure that's part of it.

That being said, why does everyone here seem so goddamn stupid? And why do I hate myself so much for thinking they seem stupid?

God I hate this part.

I thought I was going to leave that short and sweet and be done with it and go to bed, but apparently I was wrong. I feel like such a freak here. I should feel natural, these are my people--but I feel like I'm 9 feet tall and everyone thinks I'm judging them for being short. And maybe I am. But it's not my fault I'm tall, and it's not my fault they are short, and just because I am tall doesn't make short better.

That was a damn stupid analogy. I really am quite tired. This is actually the one place where I usually don't feel freakily tall. I should think of something better to compare this to.

Blah blah. I'm hardly even making sense to myself. The bottom line is that I'm not comfortable here. This isn't home. Home is in Austin, with Mark and Chance. Home was with Mark and Erica on Belmont. Home is about me and the people I choose not, not about the people who birthed and raised me. And that's a strange thing. I feel...disrespectful, I guess, for saying it. And then that's weird, because I never liked this place anyway. I spend 17 years trying to get out, and now that I am out, I insisit on trying to feel like I belong here and am not just visiting when I come back.

I just don't get it.

I've been saying "I want my mom" for months, and now I am here and I don't know what to do with her.

Today was distinctly better. I think I was just grouchy last night. These are my people, as far away from them as my life gets, I am still grounded by them.

I took a walk "into town" today. Six miles, took about an hour and a half. It was really nice to do and I was really proud of myself at the end. My feet and legs don't seem too sore, either, though that might change tomorrow. I am eating like a giant pig here, which needs to stop (but won't, I'm afraid). There is junkfood everywhere, and the way people cook here for meals isn't exactly diet-friendly. Oh well. If I can hold steady until I get home, I'll be happy. No use trying to actually lose while I'm here--it's just not going to happen (unless maybe I find time to take that six mile walk every day...)

My mom is really really miserable. She's been worse every time I see her for ages now, but you can tell she's really at the end of her rope right now. And she's up to 3 or 4 pain pills a day, which can't be good for her. She says she is in pain and depressed and she doesn't know how much longer she can take it. I don't know what that means. I guess it means that this surgery better fucking do something. It's so unfair to see someone as great as my mom in so much pain. And it makes me feel guilty for not being here to take care of things. I don't think George helps around the house as much as he should. He does some, but Jesus, she can barely walk. She shouldn't be doing laundry and cleaning and making dinner and all that crap. Not that I think she'd stop even if someone else were here to do it, but still. I'm trying to do as much as I possibly can while I am here...and hopefully by the time I leave she'll be feeling better (though that's really unlikely, as it will take her six weeks or so to recover fully from the surgery). I hate seeing her like this. It's really aging her, too, which is sad, especially since she's really so young.

This is really odd to admit (and I hope Mark still doesn't read this), but being here makes me want to get married and maybe even have a baby sometime. I love my family, and I love that they are my family. And I love my family with Mark and Chancey as well. I want them to be...connected more, I guess. I long for something more "official." Which is really really strange, because I am completely politically opposed to getting married and I have absolutely no plans to do so. I was daydreaming today, though, about telling my mom she was going to be a grandmother.

It's in the air down here, I swear. I have to get away quick!

I saw Sadie today and she knew my name. She's only just started talking in the past few months, but she recognized me. Amazing, considering she hasn't seen me since August. She's a beautiful, bright, tempermental little girl. She looks just like Randi, but I think she acts more like me. Apparently she's prone to tantrum-throwing. :) I hope I get to see a fit before I leave. Proud to have passed that particular legacy on.

The wood heat is drying out my skin, chapping my lips, and making me sneeze. It's nice to listen to the fire crackle, though, and to stand in front of it until my ass gets so hot I have to go bury it in the couch. There are always good things about being home.

Tomorrow I think I'll have some solitude. Mom and George will be at work and Mitch is going fishing, so I'm just going to hang out and make Christmas cookies and watch TV and read. I hope this Janet Frame book speeds up a bit--her childhood doesn't interest me as much as it could, and I'm finding her a little bit unaccessible (inaccessible? INXSable?) I'm sure it will be more interesting once she gets to the mental hospital, though.

Speaking of, I think I will get under my covers and read a few more chapters. One thing about the wood heat--my bedrooom, as always, is ice fucking cold. I don't know how I stood it here when I was growing up with the door shut. I sleep with the door open when I am here now. Fuck privacy, I want warmth!!