It’s been so long since I blogged I realized that part of the reason I haven’t is because I’ve been beating myself up over it. I hate it when I procrastinate because I’ve already procrastinated.
In my defense, things have been busy. Donnie took me on a surprise trip in October to Fort Collins and we hopped over to Boulder with the Seestor and Aric to listen to Neil Gaiman read from The Graveyard Book. That was really awesome for me, and probably less anxiety provoking than the first time I saw him live. The first time, I was worried about the long line for meeting him, and then inhaled about 10 cigarettes while in the line because I was going to be meeting him. Meeting him, for me, is the equivalent of you meeting your favorite rock star or movie star. I worried that he would note the manic glow in my eye that comes from the tension of waiting for 10+ years and say he wouldn’t sign a thing. But of course that didn’t happen, because Mr. Neil is very polite. He signed everything I had, and let me read his palms.

This time, I still got a front row seat, with a great view, and didn’t have to worry about a long line to meet him because there wasn’t one. I did still get an autographed copy of The Graveyard Book, and enjoyed it thoroughly.

Sweet Donnie and Seestor and Aric and I had fun in Fort Collins, despite the fact that someone, whom shall be known as Mr. Fuss, attempted to make things difficult. Mr. Fuss is from NYC, and, like so many other New Yorkers, he doesn’t actually live there most of the year, but calls it home. Mr. Fuss is tall, lanky, pallid from lack of any actual sun or exercise, and skinny due to what is most likely half a lifetime of a coke habit combined with a refusal to eat anything that is not raw, or at least from Whole Foods. All meals must cost no less than $50, and yet, there was not enough money for him to stay in a hotel. It did not stop him from taking the limo service from the airport. Donnie and I being there at least removed him from Seestor and Aric’s living room floor. We happily occupied it on their new air mattress, which is much better than the old one, which would deflate in the night, and I would wake to find myself half eaten by it. But I digress.

Mr. Fuss took 2 months to order and ship a 2000 lb soundboard, and on the day of delivery, had made no arrangements to get it off the truck. Seestor and Aric are lucky people. They have a building landlord who doesn’t mess around, and had a forklift and a tractor. It was kind of nervewracking and exciting to watch it come out of the truck. But then it got boring balancing it with a combination of leg strength and boobs while we figured out the next step, which was getting it in the door.

When it was all done, Mr. Fuss demanded food, and then took to his bed for the next 3 days, saying he could not work. Which was actually fine, because Aric and Seestor spent time with us, and time with Grieves and his cool girlfriend Teru (I’m sure I’ve spelled it wrong), and we had fun, even though Mr. Fuss kept calling at 10:30 at night with unusual demands.

He went away to London, and hasn’t come back yet, which makes my Seestor want to tear out her pretty auburn hair. Even Aric, calm, man-with-the-plan Aric, got a bit of a predator’s gleam in his eye when Mr. Fuss left without having actually accomplished putting in the sound board.

But we still had a great time. We shopped, got some new salt lamps, some awesome citrine and amethyst samples, some nice clear crystal, and some other awesome things that are mood-lifting and nice to have around to look at.

I was sad in the pants when we came back. It was about 80 when we left FoCo. It was snowing here the day after we got home. Winter announced its presense in a big way. We got at least 2 feet of snow, and power lines and trees broke all over the place, leaving the streets full of summer’s crippled remains. It was kind of pretty though.

The days are short and dark now, and WE HATES IT! I think it must be some leftover sadness from my childhood sometimes, my poor reaction to the fall and winter. That was when our mom got more depressed. We spent a lot of time outside, in the instinctual way that kids do when there’s misery in the house. So it was either go outside and sled, and freeze, or go in, and deal with whatever weirdness was in there. We often opted for the cold.

I do seriously think though, that for whatever reason, I am just biochemically off in the Fall and Winter, and some odd, irrational little part of me is afraid that the sun will never come back for Spring and Summer, and I will live in the land of ice and snow forever. Maybe I died in the winter in a past life.

Sweet Donnie has been keeping me busy though, and so has work. He and I went shopping yesterday for things for the house, and that was a lot of fun, buying things together, for the day when we are going to be married and living together. We also bought SO MUCH FOOD. We had to go to 3 stores to get all that we got, to find things that were organic that we wanted. We were very nearly as bad as Mr. Fuss.

We are also going to start growing some of our own things, and learn how to milk nuts, and make sprouts grow. We are turning into nuvou hippies. We bathe though. And we do not shun technology, we embrace it. And we still talk like normal people, not like we’re from some planet where the people speak slowly and dreamily, as though they are being controlled by puppets who can’t make the people speak or think any faster because the puppets themselves are wasted on Pineapple Express.

That was a funny movie, by the way. I liked it. I would have liked it better if I was still in high school.

My parents have finally decided to move into a real actual condo, and that makes me feel extremely happy. There is nothing quite like the anxiety of knowing your family does not have an actual home, and is instead spending thousands of dollars on a hotel. The amazing thing about the condo is that it is the one that I looked at for my dad in August, and told him he should move in, because it was nice. I feel a whole lot better knowing they are putting some roots down again, at least for 6 months to a year.

So that sadness is gone, but another sadness arrived. My old friend Joe Schlessor died. He started an amazing coffee shop back in the 90’s. It was a place to drink coffee, tea, and smoke, and like the coffeehouses of yore, exchange social ideas, have poetry jams, music, and meet groovy people. Joe gave an awful lot of people a place to just be themselves, and I know we are all better for it. People gravitated to that place who were looking, searching, being, dreaming, creating, expanding. We did it by ourselves sometimes, just in the physical company of others, and sometimes, we created en masse, and felt the power of a group’s energy when it comes together to focus, even if just for a very short time. Joe sold Artspace to Doug and Rita O., and it lived on, until it didn’t. I guess it’s time, like Joe’s, had to end. I really loved Joe. He did amazing things with his life, but I’m not sure he’d look at it that way. He used to say that no one was special, and that used to really piss me off. But one day, he explained, “Look, we’re all special at something ok, so no one is really special,” and I laughed, because I’d spent so much time in my head bothered about it. He also gave me a useful piece of advice. “At the first sign of trouble, bail,” he used to say, and I would laugh with him, because he had an infectious, sarcastic laugh, that invited you to come along. I will miss him. His services are on Tuesday. I will be glad to honor him.

I’m grateful to have my life. I’m grateful to have so many people in my life who are so loving and kind. I’m glad when I can return the favor.

And yes, occasionally, it is fun to write semi-mean-spirited little things about people like Mr. Fuss. I won’t apologise for it, but I will add that I’ve probably made a few people snigger. So that’s alright then.

Sneeveilsnarglefizzlefazzle. That’s how I’m feeling at the moment. They don’t make an emoticon for it, but here’s what it is: Slight irritation, an overloaded desk that nevertheless has a manageable amount of paperwork, so long as there are no interruptions, a desire to be in my bed sleeping, as I was up too late last night helping my roomie with a thesis proposal until my brain no longer processed any meaning between a Portugese speaking native translating into English, and then trying to translate that into academic-speak, and I miss my sister and my best friend. But on the other hand, I am happy to be alive, love my Sweet Donnie, and am looking forward to snuggling.

I think we need more new words. We keep losing old ones at an exponential rate.

Current Mood: Mischievous

I have seriously wondered a few times in the last week if I am losing my mind. I talked to the Seestor last night, and I felt totally better. I laughed hysterically actually, which is a lot better than crying hysterically.

My roommate and I are both in places of extreme stress. It’s not an easy thing for me to deal with the reality of my family’s chosen chaos on a regular basis. I have packed, repacked, moved, and removed items belonging to my parents in the last month and a half. There is no part of me whatsoever interested in any more packing, changing, remodeling, or reinventing. There is only rest, and possibly wanting to work on my own projects, such as clothing donations, or laundry.

My roommate, on the other hand, is in a place where she wants and needs to reinvent, and is in a mood for total cleanup, change, the purchase of new items, and compromise and coordination on the house, meaning that there will be new furniture, wall art, and various other things added that I don’t want or need at all. But she lives there too and has a right to make changes also.

Suffice it to say I think we have both freaked out plenty this week. Such as when we had a conversation for the 10th time at least about the Problem of the Couches. And thus, I threw the couches away, so now we have NO couches.  And when we talked about having an orange wall, I just broke down in tears completely. I can’t deal with an orange wall. She can’t deal with a white wall. We rent, so it’s not like we can just paint everything.

My roomie has left the country again, and I’m desperately hoping that by the time she gets back, I’ll actually want to project again. Right now, my heart, time, money, and energy just aren’t in it. But I don’t want to go berserk about it any more either.

Seestor cheered me up by telling me that neither of us are crazy, and that she had an internal meltdown when thinking about “Hank’s Room”, a 1000 square foot office space packed floor to ceiling with such random and wonderful items as kazoos, life size KISS dolls, popcorn machines, dragon heads, army fatigues, and lots of other things that, when packed together, just make a mind go something like this: “!!!……!…..ohnoohnoohno….whatdoesitmeanwherediditcomefromwhereamIgoingtoputitwhy?why?why?”

And then you have a moment of “Oh! Neat! Oh….oh….nononononoidon’tknowwhattodowiththisthingdamnit!”

And then it becomes more like this: “……….ohithurts…………….ihatethis…………………………pickitupthrowitaway……….repeat…….”

And none of these things were acquired on purpose by the Seestor or her husband. HAPPY RECENT BIRTHDAY Aric! They were just leftovers from the bankruptcy when they got the studio. And I said I understood completely, because I found no less than 250 old razors in mom’s drawers that were USED FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, and my fragile little mind could just not even DEAL with the reality that I found a razor I remember mom shaving with when I was 5. Can’t even eBay that. “Vintage 1983 razor? Must meet minimum bid in order to justify shipping costs?” No.

But some people horde things. And the people who do are never ever ever the people who wind up packing it all and figuring out what to do with it. Sentiment is heavy, and it takes up a lot of space.

On the brighter side of life though, Joe is back from Iraq, and I have enjoyed seeing him and hearing about what’s really going on over there. I am glad he is safe, and it’s pretty damn comforting to visit with people that have known me for half my life and see how things are going for everyone.

Sweet Donnie continues to be the bright spot in my world. He bought me an iPod Touch, which is one of the coolest things ever made, in the history of EVER. I love it! He also gave me some amazing flowers, which make my room smell beautiful, and I have enjoyed waking up to them. We are about to hit the notorious “6 month mark”, but I love him more every day, and I’m so happy and grateful to be with him and near him. We make a good team. It’s so awesome to be in a relationship that isn’t scary, isn’t bland, isn’t dysfunctional, and just keeps kicking ass.

I’m sad summer seems to be coming to a close here so early. We’ve had some very chilly and windy weather this week, a sure sign that fall is on the way. I always want just a little bit more, but I’m looking forward to walking through the haunted corn maze and Halloween, and then all the glorious holidays. Next week will probably be insane. I don’t get Labor Day off, but I didn’t ask for it either. I will comp it out some other time. It’s the start of school for the treatment kids. On the upside, they’ve managed to destroy the desks over the summer, so I don’t have to worry too much about those flying around the room, only pieces of them.

Sigh. I better rest up over the weekend before it’s too late.

Someone actually sent me a comment that wasn’t spam, but I accidentally hit the spam button. So sorry person, whoever you are. Feel free to re-comment.

Current Mood: Happy

Ambien Works. That’s a great song by the Grey Kid. Also, it is true. Therefore, this blog will be as long as the Ambien permits it. 

The week of my birthday was amazing. There were wonderful words that kept cropping up all week, like unique, apocalyptic, yeti, and cake, and presents. There was an ultimate accumulation that resulted in the apocalypse of my 20’s, and delivered me relaxed, contented, and zen-like into my 30’s, having eaten unique cake, and getting presents, and remembering with delight that “yeti” means, “That thing over there!”

I have high hopes that the happy feelings from it it will all last for a long time to come. Sweet Donnie made it the best birthday I have ever had, simply by being there, loving me, and giving me the gift of his time. He also showered me with some of the most amazing presents I have ever received, leaving me wondering what on earth I had done to deserve such luscious treatment. I decided I just did, and thanked him over and over again. I have already started plotting Christmas and his birthday for next year. 

Elise and Kristi and Aric also made it an amazing day by talking with me, having dinner, and giving me unique and marvelous presents that they claimed spoke to them and told them they must come home with me. This is prototype software I’m using, very dangerous should it whisper the wrong thing, such as “Kelly wants the pea green socks,” instead of “Kelly wants the flip flops in summer colors.” But effective thus far. And it is invisible. I could have a plant on your right now, getting ready to tell you what I want for Christmas. 

No. I wouldn’t. I would never. I would only tell you psychically.

Speaking of psychics, Elise and Donnie and Julio and I had a really good time at the fair. We ate a lot of bad for us food, I patted myself on the back for eating two Vikings on a Stick, (and if you have to ask, you’ve never been, and you weren’t there, but I hope you find out someday). We looked at ridiculous things and paid for a machine called the wizard to read our fortunes for two dollars. The was a dirty old man there who was absolutely fascinated with Elise after asking carefully if Donnie is my husband, and learning that I am taken. So he looked her up and down and invited her to Vegas, and told her she was all kinds of lovely, which we already know thank you very much. But the part where he actually asked her to turn around and show him her ass, I grabbed her and said, “time to go.” I guess a man’s gotta have a dream. But really, that’s partly what you go to the carnival for. The oddities, the possible pervert to avoid, the interesting tidbits. The fair is magic no matter what. A community vampire that sucks the life out of a week of summer, and everyone leaves a little of their life force there, in a junk food wrapper, in a scream embedded into the Zipper, in a shriek of laughter from the ridiculous and absurd. 

Hmmm. Perhaps a little prosy here, I feel. 

I am extremely grateful, as always, for Sweet Donnie, my sweet friends, and my sweet seestor. We have had a lot of fun this summer. I intend to have some more. I’m not going to go beat it down with a stick or anything, just make sure I get a few more road trips in there, a few more adventures. You should come with. I think we’ll go dig up some fossils next. 

I’m turning 30 next week. There are some moments where that seems like a big deal, and others where it seems ridiculous and arbitrary, just a number. I’m leaning toward it being a ridiculous and arbitrary number, rather than something that has any real significance other than what society puts on it. I think for women it’s seen as a big deal simply because there are a smaller number of years where they can bear children, but that number is always going down once puberty starts. But I’m still glad that people say how young I look.

Donnie and are are going on a little adventure this weekend, and that makes me extremely happy. I’ve been in a little bit of a funk since coming back from Fort Collins.

My experiment in ignoring the family drama this week has been a success. Now all I have to do it charge it with lightning during the next storm, and it will be ALIVE! ALIVE I SAY!

I’m planning on asking for a large raise this month. I haven’t had one since I’ve been here, and frankly, I feel entitled, yes, entitled to make more than I do. I’m worth it. I have another co-worker who has probably had a raise of around 20% in the last year, so I’ll start by asking for that. The worst they can say is no.

I notice these days that a random word or topic comes up in my life, and floats around for the next 24-48 hours until another one comes along. Right now, the word/topic is “Gunpowder”. Donnie showed me a fabulous website he was working on yesterday promoting apparently kickass gunpowder. This morning, bright and early, the children were talking about gunpowder. So, there’s some weird synchronicity. Whatever it is, it’s fun to play with mentally. I shall be thinking about metaphorical gunpowder today and what I can use it on. Any suggestions?

Every now and then, the inner fire of Kelly is dampened a little, squelched, and starts to steam instead of burning. Being a fire sign, I don’t like it when this happens. At worst, it takes me a few days to build it back up until it starts kicking ass properly like it should. So, that leaves me today and tomorrow, and I’d better be doing fabulous by then.

So, I’m in the process of getting my pilot light going again.

The family has reached levels of dysfunction that are so excruciatingly high, I literally can’t stand it. Fight or flight responses have kicked in for sure. I realized yesterday, as I evolved into a total slug on the couch that humans have developed a more modern approach to mere fight or flight, which I believe my sister has termed “possuming out”. Possums play dead until its all over and the big scary thing has gone away. I rather think they are smarter than people normally give them credit for. You hear about elephants and dolphins, sure. But the humble possum has become my spirit animal for the time being.

I just had an awesome visit to Fort Collins with Sweet Donnie to go visit Kristi and Aric. We had mindnumbingly good food the entire time, the highlight for me being the lasagna from Bisetti’s, and Fatburger, which I’ve never stopped missing from Vegas. Deeeleecious!

We also did some amazing shopping, which I know bored the boys to no end, but which made Kristi and I very happy. Donnie did get a 3G, and it is amazing, even though the service here is less than stellar. We saw The Dark Knight in Imax, which made it even more wonderful, and honestly, I was surprised at how truly good it was. I wasn’t too blown away by Batman Begins, even though it was good. I think Heath Ledger completely deserves a posthumous Oscar, and I was REALLY skeptical about that until I saw it. I wonder if he spent some time observing mental patients, because he did some things I see kids do frequently when they are absolutely freaking out. We made it to the museum late and barely made it through the Egyptian exhibit and onto the wildlife dioramas before we were herded out by security guards, but it was still completely worth it.

There’s never enough time on the trips to visit the seestor.

Sweet Donnie and I were caught in a torrential rainstorm on the way home that actually caused me to grip my pillow, jump, and squeak. We pulled over, because visibility went down to practically zero. It’s the closest I’ve ever been to experiencing a hurricane, and I hope it’s the closest I ever get.

It was symbolic, anyway, of the storm I walked into getting back home. My family continues to struggle, and I’m just so frustrated with them, except for the seestor. Mom and dad have to move again, mom doesn’t even know about it, which is best, as she is still in TX, dad hasn’t found a place yet, and I have been packing the house. I helped dad move some things to storage yesterday, and I just cried. It was so damn depressing, and there’s still a whole house to pack up. It was my brother’s birthday yesterday as well. I offered to take him out, or to cook him something, and instead, he came strolling into the shop with a frozen chicken and a package of frozen RABBIT, and slammed them on the counter, and demanded that dad and I cook them on a barbecue the size of a large dinner plate. I told him very gently that they would need to be defrosted first, and that it would probably be best to go out, or cook something else, and dad told him the same. He called us both total incompetents and said he would cook them himself. It’s laughable, except it’s so scary that he’s most likely hallucinating, and has a broken foot on top of it that he REFUSES to go to the hospital for. I don’t think it’s been set, so he will most likely be crippled if ever it heals.

Sigh. I am now off to meet with a private investigator for a friend who has about as much family drama as I do. I have no sense of humor whatsoever right now, and I seriously need to recover that to make it through today and tomorrow.

Someday, life will be amusing and fun again. I would like to get in my car and flee.

I learned and re-learned some extremely valuable lessons this weekend. For example, when my family’s reality, (which is skewed, demented, harsh, and bizarre,) encroaches on mine, I have to get an emotional yardstick out and see if I am able to stretch across the line a bit, or see if it would be breaking my boundaries, aka, my sanity. I determined that I could help out with something this weekend and this week, but I am worried about everyone in the family except for myself and Kristi. Maybe these lessons will be helpful for other people too.

Lesson One: When your family is so crazy that the act of telling people the facts causes them to raise their eyebrows in disbelief, distance in miles from the aforementioned family is best.

Lesson Two: If you have any sane members of your family, they are the only ones that are going to completely understand the weirdness. Call them.

Lesson Three: If you have friends/significant others that don’t mind listening to your rants, your insecurities, and your difficulty with decision making due to lack of information from crazy people, then spend as much time with them as possible. If they are truly amazing people, they will even still love you when it’s all over.

Lesson Four: A glass of wine is a helpful cure for nighttime insomnia, anxiety, and general weirdness. Notice I said a glass. Perhaps two. Certainly not a bottle.

Lesson Five: You can never have too much sea salt about the house for bathing purposes of your person and/or any items that have picked up bad vibes.

Lesson Six: Always wear socks and shoes if packing/organizing, even when its just light things, such as clothes, to avoid stepping on any sharp things, such as a sewing needle sticking out of the floor, waiting to vampire your toes.

I can’t wait until this nonsense is all over, and I can get in the car to visit my seestor.

Sometimes, you’ve just got to escape. And here I go. This has been a most difficult week for me, in terms of managing just about everything. Bills piled up and were all due at once, because I have about the same capacity for finance and opening mail as a two-toed sloth. Work was full of obnoxiousness, replete with staffing problems, micro-management, befuddled therapists, angry kids, and scheduling conflicts. My office, conveniently located in the center of the building, seems to be the water-cooler office. People seem to like to come here. I’m not sure it’s for my wit and wisdom and charm. Ha. It might be because I try to keep my ears open. It might be because I have snacks in here. I might be because they just can’t get enough Kelly. I don’t know. I enjoy my co-workers, but sometimes it’s awfully hard to get things done. But mainly this week was difficult because my oral surgeon opted to put me on steroids in an effort to fix whatever the problem continues to be with the right side of my mouth. They alternately make me feel very awake, very tired, and very very irritable. Picture how you are when you’re in prime PMS mode and periodtastic. It’s been like that. I did not lose my temper with anyone or anything, for which I gave myself a cookie this morning, but it took effort. I felt off-kilter and out of synch.

Balance was maintained this week in a few different capacities. I gave some thought to how I will manage this blog. I think what will happen is there will be a section of online journaling, which is essentially what this post is, a section on therapy, workplaces, and how to manage that, and a section of fiction work. That way, people will be able to access whatever they like best, without having to read through everything to get there. Figuring that out inspired me to get moving on it, so hopefully those changes will get implemented this weekend. I was also really grateful that my clinical supervisor invited me to speak at my old university as part of a recruitment. That felt really good, because I have nothing but positive things to say about my old program. My professors were and are wonderful people, who have contributed so much to my life.

I was also very grateful for Sweet Donnie, who made amazing spaghetti last night, and went with me to the recruitment and learned a bit about my old school. He gives the best foot massages in the world, and his voice and his touch are like a tranquilizer to me.

I was also really grateful for an awesome day yesterday with the kids. We took them out to the land and did archery with them. It went much better this time than last time, and I hit the target twice when it was my turn. It’s a lot of fun, and good stress relief!

Kristi has been totally amazing this week, both in surviving a drive to TX with our mother, with two high-maintenance schnauzers, as well as dealing with the fact that mom has been sleeping pretty much since arrival in TX, and going out to Sex and the City, which is SO not her thing, with two aging cougars who then danced to the Pussycat Dolls. She may need extensive PTSD therapy on arriving back home. I got a laugh last night when she sent me a picture of a Versace belt asking, “Do I want this?” (Really, it was quite weird.) To which I replied, “Yes, because it’s Versace and you can always Ebay it.”

Which brings me to a point. There is a very very very fine line between haute couture and cheap-ass crap. I will never forget seeing a pair of gold Gucci sling-backs with a few sequins placed casually in the Gucci front store window when I lived in Vegas, and thinking, “Hmmmm…..those are really quite hideous. And they’re only $900 on sale.” Later the same day, I was in a Target way out in Green Valley, and saw pretty much exactly the same pair of shoes minus a few sequins. Homo Sapiens are amazing.