Golden Years

While waiting to check in to Suite B at the doctor's office, I see a woman sitting there who's pushing 90 and still reading without glasses.  I am thoroughly impressed.  Impressed enough that I pulled my sweatshirt down over my yoga pants/ass so she didn't have to pause in her reading to lament the young women of today and our harlotry. I wait for the woman in front of me to check in, then she sits down; I check in and I sit down.  A few moments later, another woman comes in, doesn't even pause at the check in desk, just says her name and whatever test she's there for, then sits down.

One of the women greets the other by name and asks her how she is.  "I'm great! We all are, right? That's why we're here!"  The other two women laugh, and I smile into my book, because she's got a point: asking someone how they're doing while chilling in a doctor's office is kind of a gamble.  The "I'm great!" woman follows up her comment with "Golden years, my ass!" to more laughter.

This is social hour for the elderly.  I did not know this.  All three women start talking to each other and to the check in nurse about everyone they know (and their ailments), and it's like they all met for lunch at Perkins or something.  I was absolutely fascinated by this apparent subculture of our society.  Absolutely delighted to have something to look forward to in 50 years!

Reunion time!

Tomorrow two old friends from college are traipsing into my domicile for a weekend of debauchery and craziness. The plan is for them to arrive around 2pm and, well, that's our plan. There will be food, booze, the pool, some yoga, and total hilarity. I even cleaned the house for the occasion.

34 and all is well

So, celebrated a birthday for the 34th time last week. So far, it's going just fine. Summer school, grad school, taking the dog for walks every night, doing some yoga, teaching some yoga...that's life right now.
I'm exchanging my Seattle trip for a trip to Chicago...I'm dying to get back out to Seattle to see my fabulous family and eat seafood that wasn't flown or trucked in, but I'll need to wait since times just didn't line up. Chicago will hopefully be restorative--lots of yoga, sightseeing, shopping, and pizza :-)

If a picture is worth a thousand words...

then I'm one hell of a writer.

I just got home from getting some photographs developed at Walgreens. And by "some photographs", I mean 290 pictures. No, I didn't get married or go on some fancy-schmancy trip. Rather, I just got a bug up my arse tonight to finally go through and make real the virtual history I've been cataloging on my computer in the "my pictures" file.

For example: The only picture I have in "hard copy" of my dog is one that my dad, a professional photographer, took. The dog is three years old.

The 290 pictures include:

Yoga fun night
Pictures of Gatsby the Wonder Dog
My mom's 60th birthday
"Girls' Night" 2006 (yeah, that's the right date.)
Yoga graduation
Superior camping trip 2008

And there are other events too. It's so nice to have pictures to look at, physically, of events as recent as just a few months ago. And, the best part is I got coupons (because I paid someone's salary for the whole night in one fell swoop with my order), so now I can go through and get even more :-)

Never have Christ and I been mentioned so many times in the same sentence.

Three days ago I celebrated my 33rd birthday. It was exactly the way I wanted it to be--spent the day doing various enjoyable activities: lunch with Erica, teaching summer school, etc. I did not do yoga or take a nap, but, well, there are only 24 hours in a day.

Last night I had a party, where a lengthy conversation took place about Jesus Christ, and how he was crucified when he was 33 years old. I knew this already, largely because of my Catholic friend Jessie who told me this detail on her 33rd birthday. My hope is that my year turns out better than his did. Seriously.

So, here's to 33: brought in with a good solid whibang (not a whimper, not a bang)...may it be an absolutely outstanding year full of more publications, more yoga, and more teaching. And, maybe, just MAYBE, I'll figure out where and how I want to spend my 34th year.

Puuuurrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

So, I spent some time with Yoga Molly tonight after about a month of not being in contact with her. We got together in mid-January, before she jet-setted to Peru, and since she got back about two weeks ago, our paths have not crossed.

Molly makes my soul happy. I have a lot of friends who make my soul happy. And in these times where there are a lot of people trying to break me down (including myself)--well, it's just darn good that I have Soul Happiness.

Ho Ho and Merry Merry

Merry Christmas, my friends. It's been yet another interesting year, one I'll comment more on my annual New Year's Eve post in a few days. I've been learning a lot about different ways to celebrate Christmas that don't always involve blood relatives. Mine still do, and though I did celebrate today with some of them, my "real" Christmas happens on Christmas Eve with my parents and Gatsby. Though we spent most of the fall talking about how we needed to cut back and not spend as much on Christmas, we still ate lobster to bursting and started the evening by sharing a bottle of Dom Perignon. We guard our traditions even in the face of extreme budget constraints.

I wish you all the happiness you could ask for in the closing days of 2008. I hope that you spend time with people you love, be they family or friends or strangers who warm your heart. I hope that Santa brings you everything you need and a few things you want. I hope that when you go to bed tonight you do so fully imbued with the magic of Christmas and the love, faith, and joy that it entails.

"Darling I don't know why I go to extremes"

Last weekend I was busy literally every minute. I think I slept for about twelve hours over the three nights. I couldn't believe how much activity I packed into a Friday-Sunday timeframe. I wanted more than anything to have a few hours to myself, yet I couldn't tear myself away from any of the splendid things I did. Saw the play, went to a party, shopped for tailgating, tailgated, watched the Packers, and came home so collapsed I couldn't even go to the Amazing Poetess Jude Nutter's poetry reading at the Loft on Sunday night. Unprecedented.

This weekend: nothing. Zero. No plans. No yoga, because I'm not allowed to go for two weeks. (Well, a week from this past Monday...so really I can go back on the 24th, so it's only 11 days...which sort of feels like forever right now, but I guess I'll maybe do okay, I hope.) Seems I've chaturanga-ed my way into a shoulder injury. No parties. No games. No obligations. No readings, dates, meetings, or responsibilities of any kind. Hmmm.

I'm a little nervous for this weekend. There was a time when I would cancel plans to be able to spend a full weekend by myself. But now I'm so spoiled with my new friends and non-stop activity that, well, I've gotten used to being sociable. After all, the last three weekends I've spent less time in St. Paul than I have in my own home.

The weekend should prove interesting. I have a big stats test on Tuesday, so I can study for that. And maybe watch some Netflix movies I've had since...ahem...July.

Best Halloween EVER

I arrived at the RMB house at 7pm, costume in hand. We spent the next three hours getting ready, crafting accoutrements for our bird ensembles, drinking beer and eating pizza. When we finally left for the bar hop at about 10:30pm there were around ten of us...maybe twelve. We cruised around, sometimes splitting up, sometimes all together. We all ended up together at The Muddy Pig, where we stayed until closing time.

Our outfits were fantastic. Ruth, Molly and I dressed as birds. Ruth was all color, Molly was white from head to toe, and I was gothic black. It felt so awesome to let my inner goth girl out to play for the night. I said more than once that if I could dress every single day like I was dressed that night, I totally would. It was the most comfortable I've felt in quite a long time.

We slept at the RMB house and took our time getting up the next morning before we went for breakfast at The Happy Gnome. After that, we all had things we needed to get done so we separated ways and closed the book on The Best Halloween Ever.

Now tomorrow it's back to reality. There are some things going on with me, things that are making life harder than it needs to be...things that make nights like The Best Halloween Ever delightful surprises. I'm going to try to keep the awesome memories of this night as I try to get through this week.

Hit me with your best shot...I'll "signal" you in for a landing.

Yesterday I met at Redstone with Fabulous Friend Heather. We try to meet at least every six weeks to debrief on life and occasionally exchange writing for each other's feedback. Yesterday was no business, all pleasure. We sucked down our bloody marys and were very kind to the nice waiter who appeared very innocent the first few times he asked if we were ready to order. But then:

We called him over to the table because we were all set. He approached on my right, as he had done several times earlier, and touched my arm. My arm. Right below my sleeve. My bare flesh. I had enough time to think "He's touching me. His hand is on my arm. His hand is STILL on my arm." at which point he had made his way to the other side of me (with, I think, his hand still attached to my arm, though unless he was Waiter Gumby that would not be possible). "Are we ready to order?"

I ordered my calamari and Heather managed to order her flatbread without choking or bursting out into a gale of laughter, but once he walked away we turned into two teenage girls who assume that because the teacher has turned his back means he can't hear anything anymore.

"What the hell was that?" I screeched.

"He so just hit on you!" Heather howled.

I put my head in my hands. "What WAS that??" I asked again.

And we proceeded to giggle and marvel over this unexpected full-on show of affection for a good half hour. Heather suggested I give him my number, which led into a conversation about our "types"--and how I am so not a beefcake guy kind of girl. I said something about "you marrieds" because she was enjoying this whole thing all too much, and she reminded me about the need for married folk to live vicariously through their single friends in certain regards. Understood.

The situation would have been funny enough on its own but the additional irony of the fact we had just, not five minutes earlier, been discussing the "signals" women may or may not put out to the men around them. Damn me and my siren song!

We were also able to recall the last time we ate at the patio at Redstone where the server was very openly hitting on me, flirting away (he didn't, however, wrap his hand around my bare damn arm!) until I gave him a big fat tip, at which point he said "Yeah, my girlfriend and I ....blah blah blah." But that was a common type of hitting-on. Nothing like yesterday's kamikaze, suicide-bomber type of flirtation.

Next time I go to Redstone I'm wearing a wedding band. And a chastity belt. And sleeves.

What "colors" do to dreams

Two days ago I mentioned colors, those ugly anxious emotions that bear the names of various colors.

Let me tell you want going through "colors" do to your dreams.

I took a nap today...last night I went out with Molly and then later we met up with her two roommates Ruth and Blaine. We got back to their place and settled in at about 2:30am, then I woke up to drive home at about 5:15am. I went back to sleep, of course, but obviously a nap was in order. While napping, I had the following dream. Before you begin...it's long and detailed and a full-on nightmare. I don't know exactly what it means, but I have some ideas. Some strong ideas. But if any of you out there are good at dream interpretation, please comment and tell me what you think is up.

Shoes and snakes.

I looked out my patio door and saw a coral snake approaching the door. I then realized that both the glass and screen doors were open. I ran to the door and a bunny came through the patio door and I threw a shoe out the door to stop the snake. The snake caught it in its mouth (I felt it’s mouth brush my fingers) and it began to eat my shoe. I was mad because I knew I’d never get the shoe back. I went after the rabbit in my house—grey—and then for my camera. I went back to look at the snake, which was arched up in the air trying to swallow my shoe. I looked at a corner of my patio and saw at least two other snakes (yellow striped) coiled up against a HUGE black long snake. There were baby ducks being devoured by the yellow striped snakes. Then I *really* needed my camera. I found it, but couldn’t get it to focus. I then saw a dog, I think a basset hound, coming toward the snakes. The coral snake had finished my shoe and went after the dog. I ran outside to try to stop it, and when I got out there I saw that the dog I saw was actually laying over another dog that was badly hurt, its eyes had been eaten out by the snake. The second dog looked like my neighbor’s dog and my first instinct was to run to their patio door and knock for help, but the urge to get my camera was too strong. I thought maybe I should run around to the front of the house, grab my camera, and ten get the neighbors. I ran back into my house and went upstairs to photograph the snakes from my upstairs window.

I opened the door to my loft (my actual loft is open) and noticed something was wrong because there was a very tiny window that didn’t open. The room was very tiny and I thought “this isn’t right, this isn’t my house. The loft and the second bedroom match up and both look outside.” So I turned to go into my second bedroom. It was pink, and had my childhood bed in it along with furniture that wasn’t my childhood furniture but I recognized it as that. My mom was in there cleaning my room, and it was spotless. I opened a tiny drawer on top of my dresser (designed for jewelry and stuff) and saw places where q-tips had been, little cotton strands were there…and I turned to look in the closet and it was so neat and clean. I started to cry and said “I have to simplify my life!” As soon as I said that I opened a second closet door and the closet was full of stuff…clothes hanging weirdly and bags all over the floor. I ran back to the loft, thinking I had to be dreaming and not know I’m in a dream (I’ve *never* thought this in a dream) and the loft was normal. I went back to the second bedroom but it was still the same pink childhood bedroom.

I took my camera to photograph the snakes from the loft. But when I looked outside, there was pure carnage below. A cat was on its side throwing up what looked like baby snakes, and there were at least three dogs down on the grass that had been attacked. A little girl was walking toward the fray with a hamster and I tried to scream at her to go away because she was looking at me, but I couldn’t scream through the screen. I looked again at the cat and there was another little girl there now holding the cat and a man behind her telling her “it’s a good idea”…I assumed he was saying the cat should be put down.

Then I woke up.

Things that made me laugh so hard today I almost hurt myself

1. Jerry on Big Brother staring up at a message in the sky and walking straight into the pool. I had to rewind my DVR to hear him say "I hurt my ass", which sent me into a subsequent gale of laughter for a good five minutes.

2. Hippy-dippy stats prof introduced me to GraphJam tonight. Strolling along, I came across this:


more graph humor and song chart memes

And I'm still laughing. Really.

Snap back to reality...

I'm home from the camping trip (a.k.a. best fucking week of my whole entire life) and will write about it when I find the words to do so. There was so much that happened, some that can be blogged about and some that can't, but all of which contributed to a magical ebb and flow of a weekend that I will remember forever. And makes it very hard to be home right now. Going to stats tonight. Going to work tomorrow. Everything has gone from being very easy to being very hard. Ebb and flow. Ebb. And. Flow.

Becoming one with Mother Superior

Tomorrow morning I'm leaving on a camping trip to rest, rejuvenate, and mentally prepare for what's coming up for the fall. Molly, me, and four other fine rays of sunshine will spend five days and four nights (or maybe six days, five nights...who knows) hanging on the North Shore.

For me, I need to revise a story I wrote four years ago that I very much believe in. I haven't done so much as peek at it in two years and I feel that I can look at it now with eyes of a reader and not eyes of a writer. I think my greatest weakness I have as a writer at this time is that I tend to turn my writing into a group activity. I have many communities of writers--very good writers--and I am extremely well supported. This is both good and bad. Good because support is always better than no support...bad because it's easy for me to start to take the views of other writers and write their words rather than my own. At least one of my stories has been ruined by "too many cooks in the kitchen". None of the people I'll be with for the next almost-week are writers. I'll have several days where the only support I have is myself, and I think that's exactly what I need.

When I get back, I'll finish writing about The Weekend Was So Big I Need to Break It Up Into Parts, mainly the Idina Menzel concert (sorry Troy!!), and the Olympics and, of course, the goodness of the camping weekend.

The weekend was so big I need to break it up into parts...

Taking my last final on Thursday morning at 8am (ended up with an A, thank you!) started a four day frenzy of activity that I won't be recovered from for at least a few more days. Thursday and Friday I cleaned the house and got set up for my "social reincarnation soiree"--a party to celebrate my finishing summer classes and getting back in touch with all of the friends I've neglected for too long.

The party got going at around 6:30 when Erica showed up, followed shortly after by Jessie and Brian. Then Jodi arrived, and my parents came to take the dog and things got going. The highlight of the night was the opening of the Olympics, where everyone who isn't a smoker was glued from 7-11pm. It was really cool to see friends from drastically different areas of my life meet together and get along with one another. At one point I looked at Yoga Molly and said "this is the most eclectic group of people that could possibly be in a room together." The die-hards stayed up until about 2am and then we retired for the night.

It was a lot smaller gathering than I had planned, but enough people who were there promised me it was "intimate" rather than "totally lame" so I'm happy. It did remind me, though, why I have parties so infrequently. As an introvert, it's really strange for me to have a whole lot of people in my space. I love to have people over, but I'm really a lot happier with 4-5 people than I am with 30.

The next day Jessie, Brian, Rocket and I went to breakfast at the Teepee on the Rez, and the breakfast was so fucking good it was the only thing I ate all day without realizing it until the next morning when I woke up starving. I love the Teepee.

Simple pleasures, the bad with the good, the silver lining, fate stepping in (aka my 32nd birthday)

The fates are really trying. They're gathering around, totally rallied, working together to try to outwit the badness (karma?) and make my birthday the best possible day. Here is the yin and yang that has been my first fourteen hours of 32:

+ Going out for fabulous drinks at my only official "party" which wasn't really official
-- I sometimes feel when I'm with the people that I was with that I'm a total outsider and kind of like they just let me tag along (I know all of the aforementioned people read this and we all know it's me and my brain and not you at all so don't flip out *grin*) and like I don't really know anything about books or music or any of the important things in life.
-- When I got to my car there was a glowing ticket there for $105. Thanks for the birthday gift, Hennepin County.

-- This morning I woke up crabby and hot and angry.
+ When I let Gatsby out there was a marvelous breeze that cooled me down (on all levels)

-- Had to teach summer school rather than sleeping in, and the kids talked non-stop
+ I had a great conversation with three kids and when I was walking out of school with my bag and my coffee I felt every inch of 32 in the best way possible: professional, together, needed.

+I studied for my bio quiz and felt like I knew everything there is to know about photosynthesis
-- I got a C on the bio test I took on Tuesday

+ I did not get an F on the bio test I took on Tuesday
-- I definitely failed the quiz on photosynthesis, which I had trouble seeing since I was literally wiping away my tears from the C on the test.

--I went to the vending machines between bio class and lab and realized I was 20 cents short of affording anything.
+ I dug deeply in every crevice of my purse and bag and found a quarter

-- I put all the money into the machine and found out everything in the machine is mislabled and I was five cents short. No food.
+ As the tears were threatening again 'Stay' by Lisa Loeb and the Nine Stories came on the radio. My karaoke song.

See what I mean?

My birthday has been a day of enjoying simple pleasures. It could have very, very easily have been a bad day. There was a time when I would have made it a bad day. But, the fates seem insistent that for every bad that happens there is a good right along with it, and I'm totally willing to go along with them on that. I stopped at picked up some chinese food on the way home from lab, and now I'm crashed out on the couch reading a shitload of messages from people who love me and don't mind telling me so on my special day. One of the realizations that comes with being older is realizing that a person has to pave their own way in this world, and that includes their happiness. I can dwell on the Cs and the failures and the expensive ticket, or I can be loved, eat Chinese food, pick up fresh dry cleaning, enjoy the gorgeous 78 degree, cloudless sunny day, and read the summer Tin House.

Happy birthday to me---here's to another year of learning, growing, and loving my friends and family. In the last calendar year I've met new people, some of whom are becoming very dear to me. I've also had some pretty staunch reminders that we aren't guaranteed anything but this present moment and it's important to make that moment special and surrounded by people I care about. Thirty-two years is thirty-one, -two, -three longer than a lot of other people get, so I'm incredibly thankful.

Party on, Dude

One of the only things that was getting me through last week was the impending soirée at Yoga Molly's house. Last night Jessie and I arrived at 6pm and left at around 2am. The eight hours in between are something of a blur to me, but I do know that I had a blast.

One of the hazards of going to a party where you don't know anyone is that afterward the whole experience can seem surreal and imagined. I spent today pretty much in my own head, recalling conversations, jokes, etc. but not being able to tell them to anyone and, in short, debrief. That, combined with the after effects of an unbelievable amount of alcohol, has left me feeling somewhat emotionally raw. Not in a bad way, just in that post-party way. I met very cool people and got to know Molly better. I behaved myself (I really did!) and it's so nice to not have to add regret to the list of things I'm feeling.

So, tomorrow is a vacation day which should give me a bit more time to recover. I have to clean the house and grade some stuff, but I'll still find time to enjoy the day.

How I did:

Gary asked how I did on my list from yesterday. Because I decided to make it a weekend endeavor, I waited until tonight to post the results. Please note that tonight is not done, and I'm still plugging away on a few of the list elements. I think that I did okay--not great--on my projects.

1. clean the house
Result: I cleaned the kitchen and unearthed roughly half of the dining room table.

2. walk the dog
Result: Done. We went for a lovely walk and then Gats got a lovely "undercarriage" bath.

3. study for histology lab test
Result: Failed miserably here. I didn't touch it. 20 point quiz on Wednesday...yikes.

4. finish death/dying project
Result: I did 3/4 of the project. I need to proofread my responses to the essay questions and fill out my funeral planning questionnaire. Maybe I'll save that until I take that damn histology quiz--I'll need a funeral plan for that.

5. take chapter 3-4 accounting test
Result: Done. Scored a 92%.

6. do chapter 5 accounting work
Result: I read the chapter and started on the assignment. I'll be doing more work on this one tonight.

7. grade CPC Poe essays
Result: Didn't touch them. Well, that's a lie: I moved them from my gym bag to my school bag to bring back with me tomorrow.

8. Run 4 miles
Result: Didn't do it. Plain and simple. Are you surprised?

9. do laundry
Result: Still accomplishing this one. It will be done before I go to bed.

10. go grocery shopping for next week
Result: Yep!

11. mail books for bookmooch
Result: Yep!

12. go to school and print histology slides
Result: Decided that tomorrow would be soon enough to print out the slides. God forbid I'd make the trip and then have to actually study for the quiz.

What I did instead:
1. Watched six hours of Big Brother.
2. Had a thai massage and hit up a Yoga class
3. Waited and waited and waited for an email from a friend. Still waiting.
4. Read a few chapters in Eat, Pray, Love
5. Cooked some fabulous jalapeño chicken
6. Stood in my kitchen and did the twist while waiting for the chicken


All in all, I'd say I accomplished quite a bit!

The light at the end of the tunnel

After a week of bad work, of crazy-busyness, of bad eating and too much time spent with people, today was the day I'd been waiting for. Actually, three particular hours were what I was waiting for: the border-battle between the Packers and the Vikings. I don't know that even the most die-hard Vikings fan actually thought they might beat the then 7-and-1 Packers, but even I could not have predicted the bounty of goodness that fell down from the skies at Lambeau Field today.

A shut out. 34 to Zero. My two favorite announcer quotes:

"It doesn't look like the Vikings have any intention of scoring any points today."

and

"This Packer defense is protecting their shutout."

Erica and I went to dinner at Chanti Grill and then to Target and Barnes and Noble, where at least one person in each place spoke to me about the game. The Vikings fans were walking around dazed and silent...the Packer fan who was the hostess at Chanti Grill grinned gleefully at me as she said "we fuckin' hammered them!"

It's always a great day in Packerland. Today, however, is an extraordinary day.

Update on the list

Well, it's been an interesting day. Here's what I've accomplished, based on yesterday's list:

1. No algebra has been thought of, studied, or learned.

2. The bottom of the house has been cleaned...the top remains untouched.

3-5. No writing has taken place. Not one drop.

6. The play odds-and-ends are yet to be covered.

7. The grading situation is being alleviated as we speak. I'm trying. Really, I am.

What I did instead of doing my list:

1. Had lunch with Erica.

2. Bought Jillian Michaels' book 'Making the Cut.' I have the biggest girl-crush on Jillian Michaels pretty much ever.

3. Took the best nap ever.

4. Took the Jillian Michaels Fitness Test.

5. Found out that I can't do a full traditional sit-up.

6. Went grocery shopping and saw four teenage girls walking to the check out with two 24 packs of toilet paper. I'm sure they were restocking the latrine at their Girl Scout camp.

7. Cooked a marvelous dinner of chicken and broccoli in garlic sauce.

8. Watched an obscene amount of television.


So, see, I did accomplish quite a bit....just not many of the things I had slated for today. Oh well.