Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Saw "How To Train Your Dragon," with David. I hadn't expected much from it, but it actually turned out to be pretty awesome. I was a little upset afterward that we hadn't gone for the 3D, but I guess I will next time. David came back and had dinner (cold sliced grocery-store rotisserie chicken and spinach salad with cheddar cheese and olive-oil-and-pomegranate-red-wine-vinegar dressing--decidedly low effort*) with me and my dad. Everything seemed relatively easy and normal, and then eventually the evening wound down, and we found ourselves talking about difficulty and sadness, among other things. David is doing better overall, and I am so glad that he is. The downside though is that since his depression was in large part the catalyst of this break or breakup, it's now hard to remember sometimes why we're doing this.

Slightly later in the evening, I made some frozen yogurt with cinnamon and honey for myself and Chloe. It was decent, but might've been better with more honey in the mix. The tartness of plain yogurt seems to cover over a lot, and it's difficult to mix things in later.

*We apologize for the fault in the subtitles hyphens.
New shower head test results are in: that thing is wonderful.

Also, I feel it should be mentioned regarding the last post that I am conscious of the fact that "I might've" sort of expects, if you will, an "except for" response, similar to an "if...then" clause. I did think about this, but there wasn't really a reason I didn't call. Self respect, maybe? Or maybe it was that I was at work. Or maybe that I don't feel that I can ask a non-boyfriend guy to sit there while I (possibly) lose my mind. But really, as they say, there but for the grace of God go I. Today is sunnier, both literally and metaphorically speaking. Also, incidentally, David is in town and we are going to the cheap showing of "How To Train Your Dragon." I guess it's sort of an experiment. I consider it progress that when I called him at 4* and he was 30 minutes away from my house and had not yet checked movie times, I was angry. I would say that anger is a great improvement over listless heartbreak.

On a sadder note, I have discovered that GranFan, my great aunt (by marriage) and the Williams family matriarch, passed away this afternoon at 12:30. I am much sadder than I would have expected, considering that I didn't know her well and hardly ever spoke to her. I guess I am sad for the grief so many of my cousins and aunts and uncles are and will be feeling, and my parents as well. I think that her death also feels like the passing of an era, the ending of an age. She was (to the best of my knowledge) the last of her generation in that part of the family. When I called and told my dad today, he just said, "I've known her since I was two."

*It is important to note here that I had earlier mentioned that the movies are only $5.50 at a particular theater, and only between 4 and 5:00.
The rain was so lovely last night. I'm hoping the rain tonight will begin before I go to sleep.
I woke this morning a little miserable, and then descended into somewhat deeper misery, missing David so much that I might've begged him to come sit with me and hold me, even for a few hours. Eventually though, somehow, things brightened. I filled the cases and watched the rain outside the window, and after the rain stopped I watched the fog thicken, and I read my book. My dad needed a ride to the doctor today, so I drove from work to school and took a nap in my car while I waited. After I was home, and my mother and Lorraine (our guest this week, and my mother's good friend from college, and Chloe's godmother) were home, I discovered that today, Lorraine bought us a dishwasher. A dishwasher, because ours is broken now and has long been gimpy and obnoxious anyway, and she was tired of it. That and also she's a saint. Yesterday she bought us a showerhead, because the old one had broken and was just sending out one strong yet of water. I didn't mind it (it washed the shampoo out of my hair faster), but she wasn't a fan.

Over the weekend I allowed myself to become addicted to Farmville and Zoo World, and I'm not sure exactly why. It's entertaining. Kelly and I sat last night on two computers in the same room and sent each other things for our zoos and farms. In between this we watched the Travel channel and experimented with bananas. We tried one-ingredient ice cream, which got off to a rough start. It finished rough too, actually, metaphorically speaking. Possibly this is because I froze the bananas overnight, rather than for two hours. Another pro tip: peel the bananas prior to freezing. Next we made "banana surprise," aka banana bread. That turned out a lot like banana bread. But tonight! Tonight I made frozen yogurt--the aforementioned mentoring project, minus the mentee and the reimbursement. But it worked! Honestly, if "put yogurt in ice cream maker, churn, eat" had not worked, I would have been concerned. We added a little for-real maple syrup from Highland County, and it was rather delicious. Best if served with Emma, Masterpiece Theater version.

I am probably forgetting something, but I'm going to go check out our new showerhead.

And happy birthday to Sara!

Saturday, March 27, 2010

There once was a man from Spokane
Whose verses never would scan.
When told it was so,
he said "yes I know,"
but I always try to get as many words in the last line as I possibly can."

On hula, and how I jumped the track.

I have been watching a lot of belly dance and hula videos on youtube* today.  I have been a little infatuated with the idea of belly dancing for a few days, having read Snake Hips: Belly Dancing and How I Found True Love,** but I have now realized that I loved belly dance mainly because I love hips. (Please note the mock seriousness in my voice throughout this paragraph.) I have now decided that I love hula instead. This is for reasons which are much more worthy than the aforementioned "hips are awesome." Firstly, hula--or at least the stereotypical hula dance--reminds me of water, and I love water. Secondly, hula actually means something; belly dancing does not. That is, belly dancing does not mean anything unless you count "look at me, ohmyGod, I am so sexy" as "something." I'm not trying to bad talk belly dancing. I wouldn't at all be surprised if it did have some sort of deeper meaning, back in the day. However, today it's pretty much just a sparkle competition for people with shimmy skills. Not that I have anything whatsoever against sparkles or shimmy skills. I'm just saying that I don't think I could stand up in front of anyone and bellydance without feeling like a moron. Hula, or at least this hula:

is a dance that has some dignity and purpose.*** I could perform that, I think, without high levels of embarrassment.

In other news, my mood today has been pretty patchy, and said patchiness has been directly related to the going-to-RMA/not-going-to-RMA issue. I woke up in the morning convinced I shouldn't go, and then I spend the day until about 2:00 feeling very bleak, and defeated by the whole issue. You hear that "breaking up is hard to do," but people aren't usually very specific about why. Turns out that not knowing where you stand and not knowing how the hell to act are pretty painful things--or, as my mother would say, not having appropriate boundaries can really mess you up.
Eventually I did perk up a little. Ironically, the perking up happened around the time that I cut, not the shit, I guess, but maybe the piss, out of the first two fingers on my right hand. To defend my honor as much as possible, I feel the need to say that this happened because my fingers slipped off the end of the knife as I was pressing it down to cut the butter I needed to make imperial sauce, and not because I made some other stupid knife error. Turns out the tip of a chef's knife is nearly as sharp as the blade. Go figure. Anyway, my boss, who had acted like a bit of a jerk earlier (in my opinion), was nice about my having bled on his chef's knife. This redeemed him in my eyes for the day, and distracted me enough to get out of the "I am doomed and defeated" hamster wheel I'd been running in my mind all morning. Work was busy today thanks to pre-Passover traffic, so it was good to be able to smile rather than shoot death glares.
Unfortunately, by the time I finally got home around 4, I was feeling good enough to think that hey, maybe driving up to old FroRo in the rain, drinking with my so-recent-I'm-still-bleeding ex-boyfriend and some other guys, then driving back the next day might not be such a bad idea after all. I mention this to David. He says, "get Jr and drive up!" and that he thinks "it would be fun." Not that there is anything wrong with those ideas, but I am clued in that we might not be on the same page. At this point I am again having second thoughts. Fourth thoughts? Anyway, several more hours of slighly less intense, but still painful, feelings of defeat and confusion ensue, at which point I decide to stay home and decide to take a nap.
Note: during all at-home periods of defeatedness and misery, I am watching sexy ladies shake their hips on the internet.

Later: Arise from nap! Eat Gorton's fish fillets and mom's broiled potato and turnip slices! (Don't underestimate the deliciousness of mom's broiled anything, okay?) Watch NCIS! Return to youtube!

A small victory of today: my mentee has consented to my coming to her house tomorrow afternoon and attempting to make frozen yogurt. There was a backup plan, provided by the lovely Sara, in case I failed to find the pieces to the ice cream maker, but luckily some considerate angel (probably myself, actually) placed them all together in one place--near the freezer, no less! And anyway, Chloe ate all the bananas.

Aloha, friends.

*I've said this before, and I will almost certainly say it again: I shudder to think of what life would be like without that website.

**Written by a friend of a friend! And well written, and entertaining to boot!

***In case anyone noticed and was tempted, don't hate on Lilo and Stitch. It was a good movie, and this is a good dance, and the source (assuming they made up the dance for the movie, which they probably did not) isn't the point anyway.

Friday, March 26, 2010


Ok, first things first:

Now on to other business.

- My chapstick fell the other day from my bedside cabinet onto (ostensibly) the floor, but seems to be somehow hiding itself. Since I don't feel like moving all the boxes of stuff that are under there, I guess I'll save it for when I run out of this other tube that I stole from Chloe yesterday. Thumbs up for being the only one in the house that likes Burt's Bees Honey Lip Balm.

-I bought this really cool necklace at the Maple Festival, but I didn't mention it because I was too busy moping. If I end up finally putting my pictures on my computer in a minute like I plan to, I will show you what it looks like. It's a "hand-painted Russian pendant." I'm not quite sure what makes it "Russian," as I'm fairly sure that the odds of finding an imported Russian work of art at a craft booth in Highland County, Va are pretty low. I liked it though, and it was fairly cheap.

-I like the colors I am wearing today: yellow "Cheerios" t-shirt, purple zip-up hoodie, orange baseball cap, blue jeans. It's possible I will put up a picture of that too, because I am into pictures right now.

-David seems to be doing better. That is, he seems to have a little bit of energy, and some things to say. The downside of that, of course, is that now our breakup is starting to hurt for him. I think I've sort of closed myself off to it again, for the most part. Just not thinking about it much, you know? When I do, of course, it's sad. Speaking of David, I'm trying to decide whether to go up to RMA to hang out with him and some other people tomorrow night. I'd like to go; I miss everyone and I'm not sure I'll get another chance, really, to see these people together. On the other hand, I'm not sure how I'd react to hanging out with David, especially with the possibility of there being alcohol involved. I just don't know how to handle myself yet, I guess, and I don't particularly want another meltdown. Argh. I don't know.

-I am thinking of trying to make frozen yogurt this weekend. I was hoping to do this with my mentee, and she seemed amenable to the idea, but she still has not told me when she's free. I guess there's still some time. Anyway, it shouldn't be too hard as long as I can find all the pieces of the ice cream maker. I mean, you put yogurt in, you turn the handle. How far wrong can you go? I feel like it would still taste good even if I didn't add anything at all. This project inspired by Sweetgreen.

-I smile (read: grin like an idiot out of nowhere) every single time I think about Festival International. I am so excited.

-I had a dream last night that some guy (who seemed to be a combination of a guy I knew in highschool and a guy who works at the bank near my job) wanted to take me on a date or something, and I kept crying that I was not a good person to date right now, that I'd just come out of a really long relationship, that I was in no shape to be starting another. I guess he followed me or something, or maybe I reluctantly gave in? I don't remember there actually being any sort of date, but sometime later a woman who I think was Mrs. Duggar gave one or both of us a talking to about how the whole thing was a bad idea. I remember thinking she was great, but I've forgotten pretty much everything else.

-It was Zachary's sixth birthday today, so we got to go have dinner with Holly and Brian and the kids, who honestly do look older every time I see them. Got some pictures of that too. My aunt Cary was excited about the shad roe we have in at work, and was planning to come get some before we opened until I remembered that we probably won't have any until noon. So I'll give her a call then. Whoops.

-Spring is so wonderful. If you're in anything but a deep depression, you just can't help from grinning on the day that it is finally so warm that you have to drive with both windows fully open. And then the light turns green, and that song comes on the radio, and you're soaring. The buds have been on the trees for a few days, but last night I noticed that they've grown enough to change the silhouettes of the branches against the night sky. Today the blossoms were out, pink, purple, and white, and the taller trees looked like someone had spray painted  them with one pass of neon green. Forgive the urbanity (using the archaic definition) of the metaphor.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010


Today work was fine--boring until Brian went out, and then ridiculously busy, as usual. Junior stopped by, and that was nice. Really my only plans today were to take a nap. I considered going to the park because the weather was so nice, but I thought, "no, I haven't slept well for two nights. I need to catch up on some sleep today."

Any guesses as to whether I took a nap?

Any guesses as to whether I went to the park?

Answers: no; no. wtf, fml.

I did get to talk to Daniel though, which was nice. It has been a very long time. Incidentally, I also discovered that one can make biodegradable plastic (at home, no less!*) out of potatoes. I have also decided to try making frozen yogurt, hopefully with my theoretical mentee. We'll see whether that actually happens. I mean, I hope we'll be able to get together and I especially hope that the yogurt turns out, but our track record thus far hasn't been so great.

In other news, I was reading Bill Bryson's A Short History of Nearly Everything today during lulls at work--I use this as a sort of palate-cleanser between other books, and I've been "reading it" for years--and I learned some interesting stuff. For instance, evidently we have near misses with asteroids/planetoids with some regularity, and there is essentially nothing to be done about it. Not that it matters, because no one ever notices them until they're past us, if they notice at all. The good news is that an asteroid (even one the size of a house would be catastrophic) striking the surface of the earth would do so much damage so quickly that many or most of us, depending on the size, would be dead before we knew what was happening. It would enter the atmosphere at such high speed that the air beneath it would be unable to move out of the way, and would be supercompressed and superheated enough to vaporize anything beneath it. It would strike with the force of millions of nuclear bombs, and the shockwave would move outward far faster than the speed of sound, silently and instantly killing anyone lucky enough to be within the 'blast radius.' For those unlucky enough to be  outside the radius, life would quite quickly become rather unpleasant. The air worldwide would be filled within hours with ash, and the earth would be covered with it, polluting water and air, blocking sun, and killing plant life.

On that note, I hope you all have a very restful night.

*That is, there was a "DIY potato plasic" link on one of the pages I read, but I didn't click on it as I was not feeling like making plastic out of potatoes at the time.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Considerations from the walk home.

Though it sounds very grand and poetic and dramatic to say (with a careless sweep of the arm), "I have always loved the way" of anything, as I so often begin to do, if I'm honest I have to say that there are very few things or people that I have always loved. The only two I can think of, as silly as it sounds, are trees and water. I'm not sure I've ever met a tree I didn't like, or even really a body of water, though I might like to have words with the Gauley river. Even with these, though, "I've always loved the way" would still be inaccurate. My love for trees and love for water have grown and changed with me. I have loved the support of trees, the strength of trees, the long lives of them. I loved a tree that grew from a branch that Sara and I planted by our elementary school library, and "watered" daily with orange juice from the cafeteria. Sometimes I love the power of water. Sometimes I love its ubiquitousness, sometimes its constancy, sometimes its variability. When does any love ever remain the same?

And yes, I know no one cares. And yes, I also know I'm a hippy. I even talk to trees sometimes, or pat them comfortingly. I am aware that this might arguably make me certifiably insane. At these times I am always having a small, nearly unconscious, back-of-the-mind conversation with myself:
"You know, Marie, generally speaking, trees do not have nervous systems or any sort of consciousness."
"Shut up. You don't know."

Monday, March 22, 2010


We are friends again, and my world is upright again, and I can breathe. That's pretty much all that matters about today, and about the best news I've heard, um, ever.

Interesting Developments

Today (as I often have been lately) I was profoundly unhappy for the first half of the day. As usual, I woke up angry and upset, forced myself to eat breakfast, forced myself to get out of the car and go into work, forced myself to set up the cases instead of curling up on the floor and crying. I was really looking forward to coming home and climbing into bed at 2:00 in the afternoon, and I was extremely irritated when the rain stopped. I was even more irritated when my dad asked me to take him to the doctor after he finished school, but what can you do?
It actually turned out to be a good thing. He'd asked me to pick him up at 2:35, and because I get off work on Mondays at 1:30, I didn't go home. I decided to just go kick around the school for a while until he was done. Shortly after I pulled into the parking lot though, he called and asked if I could come at 3 instead. Good times. So I went and talked to some of my favorite teachers and staff, which was nice. He ended up not being finished until almost 4, and then we went to Bon Secours. His appointment was at 4. We pulled in at 4:05. We waited until 5, and then I waited for him until 6. Got home at 7, almost on the nose. While I was waiting I read WebMD magazine (evidently they have a magazine), which had some interesting articles, including one on green housekeeping and another on Cesar Millan, with whom I am in love.

On the way home my Dad and I talked about my tendency to sabotage relationships, which is a pattern I've recently begun to notice. In the past I've written off individual incidents for one reason or another, rationalizing reasons that I didn't want to talk to this or that person. I'm coming to realize though that I have some deep-seated fear of and/or aversion to any real kind of intimacy. I will suddenly completely lose any interest in talking to or seeing people that I genuinely like as soon as they show any real interest in becoming friends with me--especially if they want to be friends in person. I am far less afraid of online or long-distance friendships. So now I'm trying to figure this out.

In other news, we're going to have universal healthcare. I am a politically completely irresponsible cretin, and if not for facebook I would not know of the passing of this bill. I still don't know the details of it. Anyway, thoughts?

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Despite my efforts to relax my grip and be calm, I am back to nausea. The morning was going along decently well--I went outside, walked down to the cave dig and looked in, said hello to the horses (who were a little annoyed that I hadn't brought food), sat with Princess (the goat) who has hurt her front legs somehow, and sat with Kelly and the cats for a little while in the sun. We came in and I opened m computer to check on something which I forgot before I had even logged on, and I read my facebook newsfeed, saw a completely innocuous notification, and suddenly wanted to throw up. Again. It's probably time to eat but I'm still sort of nauseated. I've decided to adjust the settings of who I can see and who I can't on the newsfeed, because I cannot handle this.

Friday, March 19, 2010

The Last Day of Winter.

I've been reading about a woman who, in the wake of failed-relationship heartbreak, learned bellydancing and (says the cover) found true love.  It is, of course, making me want to learn bellydancing. It's even set in my hometown, and written by a friend of a friend. Kelly and I are on our way to Jimmy and Missy's house for the annual Highland County Maple Festival, and reading on a drive sometimes suddenly and unpredictably makes me carsick. Before deciding to try typing I leaned my head back on my seat and watched the greening Allegheny countryside recede from my visor mirror.

Today has been a pretty good day, all told, with allowances for my own recent heartbreaks--a breakup and a fight, both of which I fear might be the end of each respective "us." I've been working to accept the fact that these things are not really in my hands, and that obsessing about each will only keep me awake at night and give me headaches, nausea, and ulcers. On the other hand, they might also make me lose weight. But I'm telling myself that it's probably not worth the ulcers.

I didn't wake up particularly happy this morning--I've woken up angry, sad or upset most days since David and I broke up, and especially since I learned I was in the shit with a friend--but the new breakfast cereal in the cabinet, for which I had very low hopes, turned out to be rather good. I got an email from a college friend during breakfast saying that she's going to try to meet me in Louisiana for the Festival International. I enjoyed talking to my dad on our drive to our respective workplaces. There was easy and nearly stress-free conversation between myself and my boss as we got ready to open the store. A driver whilstled at me as I put out the sign. A Spanish couple buying ingredients for a seafood paella made me smile. And one moment stands out above the others thus far today: as I waited for my weekly paycheck, Brian suddenly said,
"Hey, I was looking at those dates you're going to be gone in April..."
Uh-oh. Oh, my tortured stomach.
"And you're only going to be here Tuesday and Wednesday that week. You're going to be out almost a whole week."
Shit, here it comes. I am twisting in on myself. Brian, unconcerned, is taking his time and multitasking.
"So I mean, you might as well just take that whole week off if you want."
I'm sorry, excuse me? Did I hear that correctly?
I fairly danced out to my car. I drove up Patterson with my knees, arms outstretched,  reveling in the warm, free air. I wanted to sing. This "five days off in April" business had been the bane of my existence for weeks before my actual relationships started falling apart. To have that stress lifted, particularly in such a comical way, felt nothing short of miraculous.

Speaking of carsickness, I just had to cover my eyes with both hands to stave off overpowering nausea in the face of the 170 degree switchbacks on a 45 degree decline on one of my favorite hills in these mountains: route 250 midway between Churchville and Monterey. Kelly laughed at me, and wanted to take a picture. I'd have laughed too if the onset of decrepit old age weren't so sudden, soon, and freaking obnoxious. I had to lift my knees in an alternating pattern to keep my laptop from sliding off my seasick lap.

When I can keep my eyes open, the setting sun is blindingly beautiful wherever it cuts through the still-bare trees.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

I am working most days to come to terms with the world as it is now. Some days that is more possible than others. Some days I hate the sun and I don't want to see anything, but when, in crawling around blindly inside my head, I manage to stumble on a small place of peace, I can see beautiful things, and that helps. The quiet radio. The warm air and unrolled windows. The drive South on the Powhite, with the clear setting sun nestled between and upheld by the tall, straightbacked trees, unapologetic and unafraid. It helps.
You know what kills me? The little stream of gasoline that pours out of the nozzle as you try to fit the thing into your gas tank. How could they let that happen? Every time I just want to yell, "gasoline is gold, people!"

I've been obsessing a lot today, though I've managed to let go of it for maybe up to an hour at a time, which was nice. Breathing is nice. I swear I'm going to give myself high blood pressure and ulcers. On the way home there was nothing on the radio, but after I flipped through for a while I finally caught "you can't always get what you want, but sometimes if you try, you just might find you get what you need" at the stoplight on the classic rock station. It carried me home.

Birthday dinner at Kelly's tonight. Maple Festival at Jimmy and Missy's tomorrow. Thank God.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

I feel like cockroaches are eating my heart. I feel like my heart is in my hands and made of pieces of red jello, and I don't know how to juggle. But it seems that sometimes you have to do things you don't know how to do.
I am alone, I am alone, I am alone, and everything is mud.
I've missed work today. I didn't really intend to, but I woke up, took a vitamin, put in contacts, got dressed, went to put my shoes on and check email, and then was hit by a sudden, strong wave of nausea. Thinking that this was caused by the multivitamin taken without food, I rushed into the kitchen with one shoe on and my ankle brace half-laced to hurry some cereal into my stomach. It seemed to help for a moment, but then I again felt that I might vomit. Or something. I called in and planned to go in once I felt better, but although I do feel "better," I still feel sort of ill, and I look like hell. Not messy, but "like hell" in an "are you ill?" sort of way. I tried napping, but I feel the same and now my shift is over. This sucks because
a) I left Drew on his own,
b) I needed the money, and
c) I was looking forward to the spring cleaning we're doing in the store.

But I work with food, and I guess I shouldn't go if there's much of a chance that I'm sick or becoming so. Hopefully I'll improve quickly. I have a feeling that this is somehow related to my meltdown last night, but other than fatigue I don't really see how. Physical symptoms like this are possible of course, but seem unlikely. Who knows.


Today Anna Sullivan asked me how I was doing. I was floored, and touched, to hear that a person (slightly to the left of acquaintance on the friend-stranger spectrum) from college is still curious and caring and being wonderful now, over a week after the breakup, when it feels like everyone but me has moved on. Slightly later she asked me whether I liked living with my parents. The answer was "sometimes." Being here can be comforting and familiar and easy, but sometimes it's hard to breathe, like sharing the air in a closed room. I want my own air.

Tonight I met David for dinner in Fredericksburg. I wasn't sure whether it would be a good idea or a disaster. I'm not sure now whether it was one or the other, neither, or both. I met him at the river, which I never once visited as a student. It's flooded and beautiful, mystifying and frightening. The sun was setting and it was windy, and I was cold and in awe, watching waves so like the ones that nearly killed me once, and reflecting on the experience. We tried a new restaurant, a mediocre Thai place with very nice waitresses, and then wandered around my old campus, because I missed it. We went back to my car and said goodnight, and I wanted to kiss him, and knew I shouldn't, and he wouldn't. He left at 9:30. I sat in my car and cried like a crazy person for thirty minutes before texting Anna Tuckweiller, because I cannot bring myself to call people when I am in a state. Every car that passed or drove nearby was like a razor, because every car was not David's, because David was not coming back, because David is not my boyfriend, and David will probably not be my boyfriend, and David will probably learn to love someone else. Those, particularly the last one, kept (and keep) hitting me over and over like so many ocean waves, with the tide coming in. Luckily Anna is wonderful and called me and talked to me until I could breathe, until I could keep my eyes clear enough to drive, and almost all the way home. She is one of the wisest and most loving people that I know.

I feel like a divorcee. Sometimes I even find myself missing the ring that was never on my finger. I feel mostly okay, and then fall apart at unexpected times. This sadness though is different from any other that I can remember experiencing. It's not like any other sadness I've ever felt. Every other time I've been depressed, it has been capital-D Depression, and I've been terrified. It's like falling down a bottomless hole, or accidentally driving off a precipice. Sometimes it makes me feel like Prometheus, chained to the rock, waiting for Ethon to tear him open again and again and again. This is qualitatively different. I'm terribly sad, and things hurt a lot, but in a way, it's ok. I know that this is a time for me to be sad, and I know that things will be better again, and life will go on. Even though right now I find it painful to consider any of the possibilities that the future holds for me or for David, I know that it will get easier. Where living with depression is like driving along and knowing that at some point you're going to drive over a cliff (but not knowing when or where, and not being able to stop or change course), this is more like driving through a thunderstorm. I know the rain will stop someday. I know the clouds will clear.

Monday, March 15, 2010

I babysat for Hartley and Lael tonight, and before they left Lael casually mentioned that there was pudding mix available, should I feel the urge to make some for the kids. I didn't want pudding and Tad and Celeste didn't seem to care one way or the other, so I didn't make it. Turns out that "the kids would love you if you made them pudding" really meant "I, Lael, would love it if you made pudding so that I could eat it when I come back from my hellish meeting." I wish I'd known--I love Lael and would have loved to be helpful that way. Hopefully I'll remember next time.

I walked back up the block through the cool night and wanted to enjoy the dark, but as the suburbs have developed, our night sky has diminished. I looked up at the dim, stomach acid sky, and could see the outlines of new spring buds on the trees--slow, sweet life against quick, blunt stupidity.
Today at work I messed up the key lime tarts, then I met Beth for coffee and moral support. I had a free afternoon, so I went back with her to the RBA to type up address labels and stamp and stuff envelopes for the mentoring surveys Jenny will be sending out soon. It was nice. After I finished I drove home under a purple and grey sky and listened to Irish music on the radio. I am thinking of buying some sparkly, bright green nail polish for Wednesday, just because. If it's cheap, why not?

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

March at home

Outside tonight there are suddenly moths and peeping frogs, and a whispering breeze that doesn't bite, but caresses and soothes. It may be still March, but the spring is coming.

Inside tonight I've been reading Neil Gaiman, which is always a treat, and cooking frozen fish. A little while ago my mother came upstairs and enlisted my help to make tostadas. She shows me up without even thinking about it. She is frying tortillas, handing me long-memorized ingredients for homemade guacamole, spooning leftover made-from-scratch black beans and salad with the practiced grace of a mother and an artist. Meanwhile, I am burning my knuckle to a blister trying to flip Gorton's fish fillets without removing the tray from the 425 degree oven. She hands me a plate of tostadas and directs me to the aloe she has growing in the bathroom.

Dear XKCD,

You are a light that shines in the darkness. 

May it be a light for you in dark places, when all other lights go out.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

This morning everything feels really bad. I hate the good weather, I'm shaky, I don't want to eat. I don't want to talk or see anyone. I just want to be unconscious.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Sometimes, there's something very restful about the darkness. Obviously most people prefer to sleep in the dark, but this is different. There is a profound sense of relief, or release, as soon as I walk into a darkened room. Yesterday I retreated to my bed, and curled up in the dark almost as soon as the sun went down. I sat in the dark and cried into my tea. And what a miracle is tea! There's something magic about a cup that's brewed and brought out of love, something medicinal and soothing when you're hurting. A blessing in the water.

I have been sad and crying a lot, but as breakups go, I guess this is the best I could have asked for--in fact, this is exactly the breakup that I did ask for. I prayed over and over, so many times, that if David and I were to break up, either he would do it, or it would be something we both realized needed to happen. I got both wishes, and I am thankful, but I wish he weren't in such pain. Or rather, I wish he weren't so withdrawn and empty and so numb to everything that this hardly even feels different to him. Maybe those are mutually exclusive, but I'd almost wish him sadness over this half-alive, autopilot existence he's been leading these past two months or so.

Last night the moon was half full, and tilted at a crazy angle, looking like all the center might spill out into space.

A lot of people have been very supportive, but I am so lonely.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

What now?

well it's my first single night since may 31, 2007. I went to kelly's house and read teen romance, let maggie curl my hair, dipped crackers in chocolate, and didn't think about anything important. I've just come home. it's 1:53 am.

may 31, 2007! so long ago. and it was such a sweet feeling, such a sweet time. I hardly know what's going on, or what to do, or think, or feel. what can I say? I love David. I still want to see him. it still felt good to be near him today. When I hugged him, when he leaned back against me, I felt like I could finally breathe. I didn't want to let go. but David isn't David. he isn't the same person. even he says, he's empty. I don't feel so far from empty myself. how can two half-alive people love one another? what can I say? what can I do? I feel... unlaced.

From the seven-month mark of our relationship.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Well, we broke up today. Or are taking a break. To be technical, we are going to "try not being a couple for a while." I haven't had time to process this yet.

"Hope is a tattered flag."

I saw an article the other day that said that the "you" presented by your facebook profile was "the real you." In some small way, that gives me hope. I mean, obviously the markers they were using were fairly shallow, and for lots of other reasons their assertion isn't as simple and straightforward and true as they'd like to present on the surface. Obviously, as was pointed out near the end of the article, it's only "the real you" in a shallower sense--there are parts of a person that won't show up on a social networking page, and there are parts that you wouldn't see until you've known someone a while. But even though it's just a silly little article and a silly little idea, it gives me comfort to have any reason to really believe that the me I want to be, the me that is happy and excited and loving and upbeat, is a me that really exists, and not just a dream.

"Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don't give up."
Anne Lamott
I am really not a fan of those moments that come after you've been thinking for a while that things were ok, or at least livable, and then all of the sudden you realize, or remember, that your entire world is crumbling to dust all around you.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

I love Ok Go.

Did I mention that? That I love Ok Go? Ok Go makes me feel love. Observe:

OK Go - This Too Shall Pass from OK Go on Vimeo.

Also, here is all of the already-planned stuff I am trying to do in the upcoming month.75, in chronological order (life gets so much more busy, come springtime):

Princess and the Frog/Invictus with the family at the local second run theater
Thin Mint buying or 'thin mint' making w/Kelly
Joco/They Might Be Giants show w/John
Christina's birthday party in DC
Kelly's birthday
something for Sara's birthday, if possible
Easter (April, weekend 1)
staff retreat (April, weekend 2)
Ian's baptism in upstate NY (April, weekend 3)
Festival International de Louisiane (April, week/weekend 4. This one might be a stretch.)

In May/early June:
my birthday
Susannah's birthday
Chloe's birthday
bridesmaid day trip to King's Dominion/Barenaked Ladies concert
rehearsal dinner
helping David move, I'm sure
David's birthday
work on weekdays, Camp on weekends. Probably.

Holy crap.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010


I haven't felt like writing lately (obviously), but I've been doing alright for the most part. Feeling fairly distant with regards to most of my relationships, but I've been hanging out with Kelly a fair amount, and that's nice. Still trying to finish this calendar. I've started two poems in the past two days (after none for quite some time), but I don't think either is finished. Finishing anything doesn't seem to be my forte lately. I've also been looking for houses/townhouses/apartments to rent, though I can't afford one on my own, and Kelly (my most probable roommate) isn't really looking for more work until after the summer. I wouldn't want to either, in her shoes. Jr's still working on getting on his feet and getting more hours. Who knows. We'll see. It's bleary, dreary, raining outside. I think I'll take a nap.