Today I found a morning show on a radio station that was commenting on the UC Irvine Anteaters' funny mascot name. UCI had busted UT out of baseball playoffs. The djs seemed to think there was no weirder mascot than the anteaters. i give you the santa cruz banana slugs.
it's been weathery here lately, which is a nice difference than the summer we spent in san antonio without rain.
Saturday DJ, the Otherh & I took in a show downtown. Nitzer Ebb (more correctly, Fisker McCarthy). My first live live live show. I had a fantastic time.
I wonder sometimes if having a fantastic time isn't within a good idea for the house, in case of toes being stepped upon. I don't want to step on toes, but neither do i want to sacrifice just a plain good time.
I bet it will work out, though.
I haven't been very up on the bloggerage because i've been plugging away at a novel, current word count 37025. I'm trying to crack 40K before I worry about 50K, honestly, but i get ahead of myself and I've been in a rut the last 3 days, which have crawled in the word counting.
The Otherh believes I'm obsessing. I don't know if I am, honestly. I know it's on my mind to actually finish it, but getting through the shit is hard, just hard. I want to know the ending to my own book.
What a profound statement.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
things i could do today
Domestic bliss, eh?
I did five loads of laundry yesterday, took all day because of a midday errand into town, which was a nice get away. then I fell asleep. So the laundry rally slowed some. Today I could shuttle boxes to my storage space in an effort to get the moth moved out some, and bring some more stuff here, in an effort to finish the job of moving in.
If moving is such a stressful event, why am I stretching it out to an untold number of days? Get it done, Magritte.
I don't have altogether that much to finish moving in, really, I have altogether that much to do to get my mother moved out. She took a cute, small apartment, in a friendly complex.
I will be saying goodbye to win xp on my desktop and instead take on the mammoth task of getting linux down to an art form, installing power linux, whatever that is, on a pair of big, hot boxes-- "hot boxes" is so sexy.
Yesterday the kidlet got everyone's endearment by saying to me, because his laundry wasn't finished before he went to bed: "What do you expect of me, woman!?"
He's getting used to me. I like that.
So, yes, today I could work more on the Onion, which is fast becoming the workinprogress title for my literary undertaking. The Otherh, upon seeing my scrawled, 10ft outline gave it the highest compliment:
"It's Very Joycean."
I should read more Joyce. And pray this thing doesn't take me 17 years to finish.
I did five loads of laundry yesterday, took all day because of a midday errand into town, which was a nice get away. then I fell asleep. So the laundry rally slowed some. Today I could shuttle boxes to my storage space in an effort to get the moth moved out some, and bring some more stuff here, in an effort to finish the job of moving in.
If moving is such a stressful event, why am I stretching it out to an untold number of days? Get it done, Magritte.
I don't have altogether that much to finish moving in, really, I have altogether that much to do to get my mother moved out. She took a cute, small apartment, in a friendly complex.
I will be saying goodbye to win xp on my desktop and instead take on the mammoth task of getting linux down to an art form, installing power linux, whatever that is, on a pair of big, hot boxes-- "hot boxes" is so sexy.
Yesterday the kidlet got everyone's endearment by saying to me, because his laundry wasn't finished before he went to bed: "What do you expect of me, woman!?"
He's getting used to me. I like that.
So, yes, today I could work more on the Onion, which is fast becoming the workinprogress title for my literary undertaking. The Otherh, upon seeing my scrawled, 10ft outline gave it the highest compliment:
"It's Very Joycean."
I should read more Joyce. And pray this thing doesn't take me 17 years to finish.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
A walk
A friend of mine is going to drive down the coast with her kids.
My favourite fantasy has been to drive down the coast and wind up in Corpus Christi, where I'll take off my clothes and walk into the gulf.
It's a grim fantasy, to be sure, but it still lives with me, like it's tattooed on my heart, in a fateful manner.
I don't like it. I like getting out of bed when everyone is still asleep and cleaning the kitchen before the sun comes up, having coffee at the ready when they all wake up. I like oatmeal for lunch, I like getting everything I need to get done before 1pm. I like accomplishing the little things, insignificant things that add up.
I fear I'm not good enough at the little things, or I don't get enough of them done to make any difference. I started running again, again, little bits, but hopefully it, too, will add up.
The grindy thing about mood disorders is the down side, after all the up has been spent. The doubts that crowd out belief, instead of encouraging it with healthy questions.
My favourite fantasy has been to drive down the coast and wind up in Corpus Christi, where I'll take off my clothes and walk into the gulf.
It's a grim fantasy, to be sure, but it still lives with me, like it's tattooed on my heart, in a fateful manner.
I don't like it. I like getting out of bed when everyone is still asleep and cleaning the kitchen before the sun comes up, having coffee at the ready when they all wake up. I like oatmeal for lunch, I like getting everything I need to get done before 1pm. I like accomplishing the little things, insignificant things that add up.
I fear I'm not good enough at the little things, or I don't get enough of them done to make any difference. I started running again, again, little bits, but hopefully it, too, will add up.
The grindy thing about mood disorders is the down side, after all the up has been spent. The doubts that crowd out belief, instead of encouraging it with healthy questions.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Approaching alone ness
After living here going on 6 weeks, I am going to be alone all day again.
This could be dire, I like un-alone ness.
I'm trying to frame it as best I can as a good thing. The otherh is going back to work, at a dream job, and everyone else has already been working, so that isn't terribly different. I'm always excited thrilled about the weekends, but the last two have been slightly rocky, not because we're all together, but because of other extenuating, get-it-together kind of circumstances. So I'm trying to approach being by myself as a positive.
This isn't my strong suit.
My strong suit is seeing things in as they are, not done up in curls and bows with smiley faces. I'd dress this up as best I could, taking the advice of my therapist (whom I adore) and charting a schedule, setting up routine. But things aren't entirely in place yet, I don't know how to routine around weird things like "change the address" and "finish moving the books".
I worked out yesterday, after having totally enough of my body.
The anti-metabolism brain tumor is doing it's damnedest to wreak havoc on my self esteem, I'm certain. (Not really, it's just easier to take that way.) So I went for a non-impact run on this kind of glider-thing that PE & DJ acquired at some point. When I started I told myself I was going to glide (or, in family parlance: "zoomy zoom"), for 5 songs, I went 6, which is good, right?! Today the goal is 10 songs and tomorrow is a day off for rest and rebuild and then I go back to 10 songs. Good plan, isn't it?
So, right, routine. I was very good at routine when I lived by myself 3.5 yrs ago, I managed to get into a groove as opposed to a rut. I had a budget, I had a walk I did, I cleaned my apartment regularly, it was a good thing. And then came Toronto and that kind of went to hell. I think I could arbitrarily set up what to do when and rearrange as the need arose, but that seems inorganic and slightly false. Anyway, today I'll stick to the work out, the regular house chores and some writing and see how that goes.
And I'll be alone doing it.
I have a feeling the Ipod will need one of those armbands that holds it to me permanently.
One of those things I hate facing is time with myself, if that hasn't been made abundantly clear. There are things I enjoy doing alone, such as shopping or driving or going to the market, but generally I prefer noise about me, the news on, the stereo going, the dishwasher making its sounds, etc. I got this from my grandfather, who gave it to my mother, in which it manifests as a 24 hr weather channel. And then there's me, who can't have enough going on.
Adhd much?
So to combat the time with myself I have devised something of a novel to write. I figure it's possible, I've read novels and I don't suck at writing generally. I have 7 feet of ideas written on butcher paper, and I know i have at least 7 more on top of that, I just don't fancy actually fleshing them out into a story. I could just write ideas for 78 more feet of butcher paper and feel accomplished, but the DJ and I have decided that we'll have drafts, at least, by August.
August seems very close suddenly, and writing 100,000 words seems a bit of a feat.
I'm already looking forward to Nanowrimo, though.
Thus it comes that after the chores and errands and routine things are done for the day, in that vast expanse between that time and the time where I go retrieve the kidlet from daycare I will be writing. Inventing a whole new world in which to play around while I spend the days by myself.
That and zoomy-zooming
This could be dire, I like un-alone ness.
I'm trying to frame it as best I can as a good thing. The otherh is going back to work, at a dream job, and everyone else has already been working, so that isn't terribly different. I'm always excited thrilled about the weekends, but the last two have been slightly rocky, not because we're all together, but because of other extenuating, get-it-together kind of circumstances. So I'm trying to approach being by myself as a positive.
This isn't my strong suit.
My strong suit is seeing things in as they are, not done up in curls and bows with smiley faces. I'd dress this up as best I could, taking the advice of my therapist (whom I adore) and charting a schedule, setting up routine. But things aren't entirely in place yet, I don't know how to routine around weird things like "change the address" and "finish moving the books".
I worked out yesterday, after having totally enough of my body.
The anti-metabolism brain tumor is doing it's damnedest to wreak havoc on my self esteem, I'm certain. (Not really, it's just easier to take that way.) So I went for a non-impact run on this kind of glider-thing that PE & DJ acquired at some point. When I started I told myself I was going to glide (or, in family parlance: "zoomy zoom"), for 5 songs, I went 6, which is good, right?! Today the goal is 10 songs and tomorrow is a day off for rest and rebuild and then I go back to 10 songs. Good plan, isn't it?
So, right, routine. I was very good at routine when I lived by myself 3.5 yrs ago, I managed to get into a groove as opposed to a rut. I had a budget, I had a walk I did, I cleaned my apartment regularly, it was a good thing. And then came Toronto and that kind of went to hell. I think I could arbitrarily set up what to do when and rearrange as the need arose, but that seems inorganic and slightly false. Anyway, today I'll stick to the work out, the regular house chores and some writing and see how that goes.
And I'll be alone doing it.
I have a feeling the Ipod will need one of those armbands that holds it to me permanently.
One of those things I hate facing is time with myself, if that hasn't been made abundantly clear. There are things I enjoy doing alone, such as shopping or driving or going to the market, but generally I prefer noise about me, the news on, the stereo going, the dishwasher making its sounds, etc. I got this from my grandfather, who gave it to my mother, in which it manifests as a 24 hr weather channel. And then there's me, who can't have enough going on.
Adhd much?
So to combat the time with myself I have devised something of a novel to write. I figure it's possible, I've read novels and I don't suck at writing generally. I have 7 feet of ideas written on butcher paper, and I know i have at least 7 more on top of that, I just don't fancy actually fleshing them out into a story. I could just write ideas for 78 more feet of butcher paper and feel accomplished, but the DJ and I have decided that we'll have drafts, at least, by August.
August seems very close suddenly, and writing 100,000 words seems a bit of a feat.
I'm already looking forward to Nanowrimo, though.
Thus it comes that after the chores and errands and routine things are done for the day, in that vast expanse between that time and the time where I go retrieve the kidlet from daycare I will be writing. Inventing a whole new world in which to play around while I spend the days by myself.
That and zoomy-zooming
Friday, May 11, 2007
Alas, i have been remiss in the postage
I've been reading. Fiction!
It's beautiful and overwritten fiction, but it gets in my head and i sit down to read and 4 hrs and 400 pages have gone by when I look up.
The family got a car last night, one of The Otherh's favourites, a Saab for all the travel on which he's about to embark, as he has taken a position 100mi away. At least he loves driving. But I'll be lonely, and yesterday it sunk in that I'm going to be alone in the house for a good deal of the next two weeks, til the Kidlet gets out of school and I fill my days with museums and libraries.
The DJ and I have lunch plans, and the PE and I have dinner plans, leaving all the boys home tonight.
Except I have a flat, which needs repair. Otherwise I wouldn't traverse into Manor today. Oh and the moth needs her security deposit. I won't go into that much but it seems the Brother is stalling in helping her out with rent.
Because of the nature of the Otherh's new job, we won't be able to pay out to the Moth much/month. The pay isn't as high as we're accustomed to, and we have the Fam to think on, now. And the pmt for another car, as well as upkeep on all other financy things. Maybe the pressure won't be so much at this gig, and the Otherh will be able to wind up and down with the drive. Maybe a hundred things. Maybe I'll start working out Monday.
Maybe a hundred things.
It's all up in my head, this book I'm reading. A trap I'll fall into is trying to write like that author, instead of like myself. I've had a wiggle of an idea since Nanowrimo last nov., but it hasn't panned out and it doesn't have fifty threads quite yet. It's just snapshots, and dim ones at best.
I'm glad the Otherh is getting places with the hunt. I'm thankful for the support DJ & PE have given us, I'm glad for kid-isms like, "I don't mind if you take me out to breakfast." and "Why is there a sun." (What?!)
It's beautiful and overwritten fiction, but it gets in my head and i sit down to read and 4 hrs and 400 pages have gone by when I look up.
The family got a car last night, one of The Otherh's favourites, a Saab for all the travel on which he's about to embark, as he has taken a position 100mi away. At least he loves driving. But I'll be lonely, and yesterday it sunk in that I'm going to be alone in the house for a good deal of the next two weeks, til the Kidlet gets out of school and I fill my days with museums and libraries.
The DJ and I have lunch plans, and the PE and I have dinner plans, leaving all the boys home tonight.
Except I have a flat, which needs repair. Otherwise I wouldn't traverse into Manor today. Oh and the moth needs her security deposit. I won't go into that much but it seems the Brother is stalling in helping her out with rent.
Because of the nature of the Otherh's new job, we won't be able to pay out to the Moth much/month. The pay isn't as high as we're accustomed to, and we have the Fam to think on, now. And the pmt for another car, as well as upkeep on all other financy things. Maybe the pressure won't be so much at this gig, and the Otherh will be able to wind up and down with the drive. Maybe a hundred things. Maybe I'll start working out Monday.
Maybe a hundred things.
It's all up in my head, this book I'm reading. A trap I'll fall into is trying to write like that author, instead of like myself. I've had a wiggle of an idea since Nanowrimo last nov., but it hasn't panned out and it doesn't have fifty threads quite yet. It's just snapshots, and dim ones at best.
I'm glad the Otherh is getting places with the hunt. I'm thankful for the support DJ & PE have given us, I'm glad for kid-isms like, "I don't mind if you take me out to breakfast." and "Why is there a sun." (What?!)
Sunday, May 6, 2007
More Moving In-ness
Yesterday we got the truck.
And last night we put our mattresses side-by-side so we now sit/lay/eat/sleep upon a Planet Bed, King+Queen.
And today we're setting up garage office, computer room office and figure out more laundry things, because it's turning out the the Otherh and I have an unchristian amount of clothes. Like giant piles bundled up in queen sized flat sheets. How did we come to acquire so many clothes? Where in the world do we wear such things?
The PE and the DJ have been very cool about absorbing us into their house. More than cool. They've been Superb. We're mixing up our pots and pans, computers and weird furniture.
A bit of Joy for us today: Manchester United won the EPL Cup.
DJ has been moving us in almost singlehandedly. He's very enthusiastic about nesting, it seems. Although I set up my own desktop computer & gear in the garage and now he's having me move it to the opposite garage wall. Which is a giant PITA but i'll still do it.
And last night we put our mattresses side-by-side so we now sit/lay/eat/sleep upon a Planet Bed, King+Queen.
And today we're setting up garage office, computer room office and figure out more laundry things, because it's turning out the the Otherh and I have an unchristian amount of clothes. Like giant piles bundled up in queen sized flat sheets. How did we come to acquire so many clothes? Where in the world do we wear such things?
The PE and the DJ have been very cool about absorbing us into their house. More than cool. They've been Superb. We're mixing up our pots and pans, computers and weird furniture.
A bit of Joy for us today: Manchester United won the EPL Cup.
DJ has been moving us in almost singlehandedly. He's very enthusiastic about nesting, it seems. Although I set up my own desktop computer & gear in the garage and now he's having me move it to the opposite garage wall. Which is a giant PITA but i'll still do it.
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Week Later
I'm a year older, so is Eeyore!
Tuesday the family got me mcdonald's (guilty pleasure) and champagne to celebrate my birthday. It was delightful, with much affection shared. Saturday we drove into Austin to join a _lot_ of other people to celebrate the birthday-less Eeyore, a tradition in town, for the last 44 years.
There were pot brownies delivered to the shady place we found to set up our camp chairs. Mmmm brownies. A headache (mine) ensued later in the day and we gathered up our stuff, after sitting in shade and sun for the better part of six hours, enjoying craft foods and beers and we made our way home. My headache got worse, and i laid under an icy washcloth for an hour and a half until the brownie I ate
Just
Totally
Kicked
My ass.
I don't know much about the aphrodisial effects weed may have, but it sure had such on me. After copious gigglings and much sharing of weird, funny songs, we enjoyed the bedlympics.
This isn't to say this is how it always is in the polyfamily. This is how it sometimes is. Those sometimes are _very_ enjoyable, however, and don't deserve to be excised on account of a pg rating. I love bodies, I love many bodies, and we have a nice quad in which we can enjoy each other, independently, paired off, or as a whole. Saturday was one of those "everyone" nights. I got very sick from the weed, and DJ went off to read while we tried to sleep.
The Otherh and the PE babysat me as the world went into overdrive and spun me around the rooms.
Sunday, we nested. The Otherh and PE hung out, overtired from the sunny saturday, and DJ and I did house things, mostly DJ doing them. He got the kidlet involved as well, drill-sargeanting him into cleaning up a wall splattered with kidlet foods. Despite all the protests the kidlet could muster, he wasn't going to get out of his share.
When it comes to the kidlet, I take a lot of cues from DJ, his step-dad. Everyone here looks at homework, takes turns retrieving him from daycare, and making sure he gets in the shower.
It means the world to me that we're part of this life, here.
The whole world.
Tuesday the family got me mcdonald's (guilty pleasure) and champagne to celebrate my birthday. It was delightful, with much affection shared. Saturday we drove into Austin to join a _lot_ of other people to celebrate the birthday-less Eeyore, a tradition in town, for the last 44 years.
There were pot brownies delivered to the shady place we found to set up our camp chairs. Mmmm brownies. A headache (mine) ensued later in the day and we gathered up our stuff, after sitting in shade and sun for the better part of six hours, enjoying craft foods and beers and we made our way home. My headache got worse, and i laid under an icy washcloth for an hour and a half until the brownie I ate
Just
Totally
Kicked
My ass.
I don't know much about the aphrodisial effects weed may have, but it sure had such on me. After copious gigglings and much sharing of weird, funny songs, we enjoyed the bedlympics.
This isn't to say this is how it always is in the polyfamily. This is how it sometimes is. Those sometimes are _very_ enjoyable, however, and don't deserve to be excised on account of a pg rating. I love bodies, I love many bodies, and we have a nice quad in which we can enjoy each other, independently, paired off, or as a whole. Saturday was one of those "everyone" nights. I got very sick from the weed, and DJ went off to read while we tried to sleep.
The Otherh and the PE babysat me as the world went into overdrive and spun me around the rooms.
Sunday, we nested. The Otherh and PE hung out, overtired from the sunny saturday, and DJ and I did house things, mostly DJ doing them. He got the kidlet involved as well, drill-sargeanting him into cleaning up a wall splattered with kidlet foods. Despite all the protests the kidlet could muster, he wasn't going to get out of his share.
When it comes to the kidlet, I take a lot of cues from DJ, his step-dad. Everyone here looks at homework, takes turns retrieving him from daycare, and making sure he gets in the shower.
It means the world to me that we're part of this life, here.
The whole world.
Monday, April 23, 2007
On the hunt
the Otherh just survived another interview (phone), which is good and bad. Bad because it's not a job he wants or really feels he can do, good because every one down is closer to the gig that's just right. Contracting is a shitty way to make a living, but it's what we have right now. He's fielding a lot of requests for his resume in word, because they can't copy his resume off the website to which he posts (silly silly recruiters.) Actually, requests for resumes, or invitations to apply, are very good things. Some of them are jobs he's already had, some of them are jobs to which he's already been submitted (a bad thing to be submitted twice, you just get tossed into the circular file, generally.)
Today I'd like to do something about moving in, but I don't have the gas, energy and werewithal to really devote myself to that. So I'm planning a tomorrow of this sort. I will, tomorrow, go and pack some china, fill my car with more clothes, do our laundry and build shelves. oh and bring hangers. Also, will drive the moth up to get her new car, which is in Georgetown. Today might be for writing, or playing with the Otherh, as I cleaned the kitchen last night and don't know where the bin for clothes is, rightly.
It is comforting that the DJ and the PE are very confident in our abilities to make a difference here. They are beautiful, and I appreciate them both very much.
Which isn't to say I don't appreciate the Otherh. For him my heart is full, and other places too.
We should eat breakfast, as the coffee has gone cold.
Today I'd like to do something about moving in, but I don't have the gas, energy and werewithal to really devote myself to that. So I'm planning a tomorrow of this sort. I will, tomorrow, go and pack some china, fill my car with more clothes, do our laundry and build shelves. oh and bring hangers. Also, will drive the moth up to get her new car, which is in Georgetown. Today might be for writing, or playing with the Otherh, as I cleaned the kitchen last night and don't know where the bin for clothes is, rightly.
It is comforting that the DJ and the PE are very confident in our abilities to make a difference here. They are beautiful, and I appreciate them both very much.
Which isn't to say I don't appreciate the Otherh. For him my heart is full, and other places too.
We should eat breakfast, as the coffee has gone cold.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
apron strings
i need to let go of the mother. moth has been living with us since feb of '06, initially as a way we could all support each other after a bad spell. it didn't end until we moved into the Couples' house, which we're still doing (slowly, surely.) we're getting rid of a lot of things and one thing we're changing is how much support we give the moth.
this is causing a lot of angst in my corner. i have a weird soft spot for my mother, who left everything to take care of _her_ mother after the latter fell and broke a leg at 80. (She never recovered, and neither, i think, has my mother.) after gmoth's death in feb '05, the moth stayed on in san antonio (a far cry from her longtime home in southern california,) and proceeded to implode, it seems. she didn't work, hasn't really worked, since then. her inheritance, half of a house, was sold so my uncle could buy his way into ownership of the company for which he worked, guaranteeing my uncle a decent slice of security, but giving my mother very short shrift for all of her labour of love. the uncle has declined to financially support my moth for reasons that seem completely void of affection, and the moth is, let's say, not in her prime any longer.
we simply can't keep up supporting the moth and our new family. and we feel a great, loving responsibility to DJ and PE and the kidlet. And we need to make our own way now. it's a lot of obsession on my part trying to help out the moth and keep ourselves afloat, but i think our season with the mother is truly over. and i have a hard time giving her up to her own devices.
my therapist mightily suggested a small allowance, one much smaller than i had in mind. she also suggested i investigate someone else having guardianship over the moth's money. i.e. not me & the Otherh. i don't know who would do that. my brother has stopped taking my phone calls, and the uncle hasn't replied to a very reasoned, pointedly diplomatic email i sent. i feel cornered by my blood family at the same time my molecular family is blossoming.
i can't say enough good about DJ & PE. their support is unfailing. but they, with the Otherh, won't stand for me to be steamrolled by obsessing about the moth. which means this is likely the first and last post i'm going to devote to the matter, just for sanity's sake.
at first i didn't blame the moth for her incapacity to just get going. she had lost her mother, and was rightfully grieving. and then it lasted a year, longer. she didn't apply for work she didn't eat a lot, she didn't go out of the house. it was endless reruns of Murder, She Wrote and the Weather Channel on mute with a side of HGTV marathons. the ambiance got to me, i went through my own mood shifts with alacrity. the house got sold out basically from under us (as is), and we came northward to austin, the moth joining us in a large, expensive rented house in the country. she seemed to get on the ball and start sending out resumes around february of this year, and quite determinedly so, but took work as a housekeeper, despite having advanced degrees and endless experience from which she could draw. she was the recipient, it seems, of a gross amount of ageism. she started leaving the years she worked off her resumes, it didn't matter, whatever gig to which she applied had her transcripts from university, more than 30 years hence. right now there is a good opportunity for her to do what she actually does, but the interview for that gig isn't for nearly 3 weeks, so it's more waiting, more of us footing her weird food proclivities and cable bills until something comes to fruition.
she is confident it will work out, but i don't know why. i am confident we will be sucked dry of both soul and bank account before something turns around. this is very negative of me, forgive, but i need something on her end to really shift. i am tired; very tired of superstition and protein drinks, of falsely positive attitudes. of fat-girl comments (i am not fat) and "you're sick, you're different" rhetoric. i am tired of being the one who knows anything at all about finance, because i'm not that person. i can cook and mop floors and write a pretty good sentence. i really want to change everything in my life to better the new family. my family of molecules and found-love.
this is causing a lot of angst in my corner. i have a weird soft spot for my mother, who left everything to take care of _her_ mother after the latter fell and broke a leg at 80. (She never recovered, and neither, i think, has my mother.) after gmoth's death in feb '05, the moth stayed on in san antonio (a far cry from her longtime home in southern california,) and proceeded to implode, it seems. she didn't work, hasn't really worked, since then. her inheritance, half of a house, was sold so my uncle could buy his way into ownership of the company for which he worked, guaranteeing my uncle a decent slice of security, but giving my mother very short shrift for all of her labour of love. the uncle has declined to financially support my moth for reasons that seem completely void of affection, and the moth is, let's say, not in her prime any longer.
we simply can't keep up supporting the moth and our new family. and we feel a great, loving responsibility to DJ and PE and the kidlet. And we need to make our own way now. it's a lot of obsession on my part trying to help out the moth and keep ourselves afloat, but i think our season with the mother is truly over. and i have a hard time giving her up to her own devices.
my therapist mightily suggested a small allowance, one much smaller than i had in mind. she also suggested i investigate someone else having guardianship over the moth's money. i.e. not me & the Otherh. i don't know who would do that. my brother has stopped taking my phone calls, and the uncle hasn't replied to a very reasoned, pointedly diplomatic email i sent. i feel cornered by my blood family at the same time my molecular family is blossoming.
i can't say enough good about DJ & PE. their support is unfailing. but they, with the Otherh, won't stand for me to be steamrolled by obsessing about the moth. which means this is likely the first and last post i'm going to devote to the matter, just for sanity's sake.
at first i didn't blame the moth for her incapacity to just get going. she had lost her mother, and was rightfully grieving. and then it lasted a year, longer. she didn't apply for work she didn't eat a lot, she didn't go out of the house. it was endless reruns of Murder, She Wrote and the Weather Channel on mute with a side of HGTV marathons. the ambiance got to me, i went through my own mood shifts with alacrity. the house got sold out basically from under us (as is), and we came northward to austin, the moth joining us in a large, expensive rented house in the country. she seemed to get on the ball and start sending out resumes around february of this year, and quite determinedly so, but took work as a housekeeper, despite having advanced degrees and endless experience from which she could draw. she was the recipient, it seems, of a gross amount of ageism. she started leaving the years she worked off her resumes, it didn't matter, whatever gig to which she applied had her transcripts from university, more than 30 years hence. right now there is a good opportunity for her to do what she actually does, but the interview for that gig isn't for nearly 3 weeks, so it's more waiting, more of us footing her weird food proclivities and cable bills until something comes to fruition.
she is confident it will work out, but i don't know why. i am confident we will be sucked dry of both soul and bank account before something turns around. this is very negative of me, forgive, but i need something on her end to really shift. i am tired; very tired of superstition and protein drinks, of falsely positive attitudes. of fat-girl comments (i am not fat) and "you're sick, you're different" rhetoric. i am tired of being the one who knows anything at all about finance, because i'm not that person. i can cook and mop floors and write a pretty good sentence. i really want to change everything in my life to better the new family. my family of molecules and found-love.
Friday, April 20, 2007
Out the door
There's something about getting everyone out the door towards work and school. PE and DJ will lay in bed for a full 90 minutes after the alarm clock goes off, often partaking in morning delight, but definitely not getting ready. Kidlet will often wake himself up, get dressed haphazardly yet somehow matching, and dive bomb for the television.
The Otherh just might be working very soon, which would mean one more shower, breakfast and dressing to get done before everyone takes off. Should he nab (knock wood) the gig for which he interviews today, he'd be the PE taxi and DJ would take kidlet to school, I'm pretty sure. Everyone then would be on time. Now, I don't think the routine really affords them punctuality, except for the kidlet, who is five minutes away.
It would be nice for me to get back in that 5-am yoga swing I had last year, but I'm not entirely certain that's possible. For one I'd have to wake up at 445 to find the television by 5am. Luckily, though, there is a show on at 11 to which i can yogafy. I'm terrible practicing by myself. I need the company of strangers on a tv set. Eventually, I'd like to go back to a studio, but that's long term planning, something at which I don't particularly excel.
Giving up things is hard. In moving here, the Otherh have a lot of shedding to do, which will likely wind up in a storage locker. I'm less freaked out about how the moth will make it with out our continued support. I'm irked that she'd like to insert herself here, despite the objections of all. She can do it herself, she _is_ an adult. Ah well. At least there are opportunities for everything.
The Otherh interviews for a short-term contract today, which I expect will go swimmingly, as he's great at interviewing and woke up un-sick. All I have today is cupcakes at the kidlet's school for his birthday celebrate. His birthday is Tuesday, same as mine. I wish I could give him a present, I might be able to find something Tuesday that he'll like for ten minutes. I'm thinking lego or playdoh or some creative books, but we'll just see. Those of course, are the things I'd like for my birthday.
The Otherh just might be working very soon, which would mean one more shower, breakfast and dressing to get done before everyone takes off. Should he nab (knock wood) the gig for which he interviews today, he'd be the PE taxi and DJ would take kidlet to school, I'm pretty sure. Everyone then would be on time. Now, I don't think the routine really affords them punctuality, except for the kidlet, who is five minutes away.
It would be nice for me to get back in that 5-am yoga swing I had last year, but I'm not entirely certain that's possible. For one I'd have to wake up at 445 to find the television by 5am. Luckily, though, there is a show on at 11 to which i can yogafy. I'm terrible practicing by myself. I need the company of strangers on a tv set. Eventually, I'd like to go back to a studio, but that's long term planning, something at which I don't particularly excel.
Giving up things is hard. In moving here, the Otherh have a lot of shedding to do, which will likely wind up in a storage locker. I'm less freaked out about how the moth will make it with out our continued support. I'm irked that she'd like to insert herself here, despite the objections of all. She can do it herself, she _is_ an adult. Ah well. At least there are opportunities for everything.
The Otherh interviews for a short-term contract today, which I expect will go swimmingly, as he's great at interviewing and woke up un-sick. All I have today is cupcakes at the kidlet's school for his birthday celebrate. His birthday is Tuesday, same as mine. I wish I could give him a present, I might be able to find something Tuesday that he'll like for ten minutes. I'm thinking lego or playdoh or some creative books, but we'll just see. Those of course, are the things I'd like for my birthday.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Wake up, have sex, have coffee, something's wrong
I am not a fan of morning sex. I think it's great that people have it, but somewhere I turned into a crochety, go-for-comfort kind of fuck. While I'm a morning person, I like getting to the euphemism, and off for a smoke and a cuppa before anything really gets going. Like some people who don't talk before they read the news.
I'm happy to talk, but it's mostly about needing more coffee.
Last night the kidlet invited me to meet his dad. He's already asked me to marry his dad. (His dad is the divorced husband of PE, DJ is stepdad.) For the record, the Otherh and I are already married. It's nice that the kidlet likes me that much, and is trying to fit me/us into his universe, which is pretty concrete. Not a lot of room for abstract. Kidlet's a high-functioning Autistic, so he's even more literal than any other 9year old. (almost 9.) All of us are trying to verbalize to kidlet that we're very close and are yet normal.
I think we expected less normal in our lives. But we kiss each other good morning and good night, have bustley mornings getting everyone out the door in time to get to work and school, with lunches, and eat dinner at the same time. It's by far the most normal the Otherh and I have ever experienced. I think I love it.
I'm happy to talk, but it's mostly about needing more coffee.
Last night the kidlet invited me to meet his dad. He's already asked me to marry his dad. (His dad is the divorced husband of PE, DJ is stepdad.) For the record, the Otherh and I are already married. It's nice that the kidlet likes me that much, and is trying to fit me/us into his universe, which is pretty concrete. Not a lot of room for abstract. Kidlet's a high-functioning Autistic, so he's even more literal than any other 9year old. (almost 9.) All of us are trying to verbalize to kidlet that we're very close and are yet normal.
I think we expected less normal in our lives. But we kiss each other good morning and good night, have bustley mornings getting everyone out the door in time to get to work and school, with lunches, and eat dinner at the same time. It's by far the most normal the Otherh and I have ever experienced. I think I love it.
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
On being sick and stressed
If you ever read me on ViscousLidocaine, I am perpetually under medical care. Whether it's for bipolar disorder, a brain tumor, lupus, arthritis, spastic colon, parkinsonia, it's always fucking something.
Right now it's relatively banal. I have a cold. One plain old wicked cold. I am sharing it with DJ, who is recovering much more quickly than I, with different symptoms. Yesterday I had a run in the rain, which doesn't improve things, but I'm not sure it hurts altogether that much either.
The last consulting firm the Otherh worked with is being stingy with his remaining paycheques. For instance, they will be weeeeeks late. To this I feel like saying "fuck them and their badges and laptops and all the rest of the stuff they want back. Show me the money, and then we'll play fair." The issue is an invoice, which they lost.
If you're the Otherh, you make a ridiculous (well, semi-ridiculous) lot of money in a short amount of time. Which means everything we had to catch up on is going to be pushed yet another week before it's all current. Including my cars. My credit rating has been sacrificed for the love of this man, because his contracting ways are not altogether easy to chart. Sort on and off work.
I think the stress of not getting paycheques on time is holding my cold down. I think the stress, albeit a good one, of moving, isn't helping. I simply have given up caring about how to move smoothly. I feel like I'll just keep bringing carloads over here til I've gotten what I want, or close enough, and then store the rest. Which sounds like a grand idea, but ideas seem to cost hundreds of dollars that I don't currently possess. In 2 weeks, I'll have more, which seems like I should just wait two weeks to even begin to worry about it, but as it is, I'm just eating ativan to make the worry subside for bits at a time.
mmmm ativan.
Right now it's relatively banal. I have a cold. One plain old wicked cold. I am sharing it with DJ, who is recovering much more quickly than I, with different symptoms. Yesterday I had a run in the rain, which doesn't improve things, but I'm not sure it hurts altogether that much either.
The last consulting firm the Otherh worked with is being stingy with his remaining paycheques. For instance, they will be weeeeeks late. To this I feel like saying "fuck them and their badges and laptops and all the rest of the stuff they want back. Show me the money, and then we'll play fair." The issue is an invoice, which they lost.
If you're the Otherh, you make a ridiculous (well, semi-ridiculous) lot of money in a short amount of time. Which means everything we had to catch up on is going to be pushed yet another week before it's all current. Including my cars. My credit rating has been sacrificed for the love of this man, because his contracting ways are not altogether easy to chart. Sort on and off work.
I think the stress of not getting paycheques on time is holding my cold down. I think the stress, albeit a good one, of moving, isn't helping. I simply have given up caring about how to move smoothly. I feel like I'll just keep bringing carloads over here til I've gotten what I want, or close enough, and then store the rest. Which sounds like a grand idea, but ideas seem to cost hundreds of dollars that I don't currently possess. In 2 weeks, I'll have more, which seems like I should just wait two weeks to even begin to worry about it, but as it is, I'm just eating ativan to make the worry subside for bits at a time.
mmmm ativan.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
News and Bedtime and more on how to move
I tried watching the news with the Otherh last night, but it was all of this, which didn't make for really conversant news watching. sort of staring in dismay news watching. The Otherh doesn't like TV anyway, but DJ does, and we kind of split up into who was sick/who wasn't as far as sleeping quarters went. PE and Otherh went into the little room and DJ and i were left to large bed, late night eating. Of course, DJ had on some history channel blather about the Aztec massacre of the Spanish, which isn't really beddy-bye lullaby type tv either, and we were both up around 1a for whatever reason, eating crappy food. I think the trajectory of this cold is slightly screwball, for we seem to be getting worse.
Today will prove to be a worker-bee type day for me and the Otherh, driving half our asses around Austin in order to get things done so we can move more efficiently. It won't happen. We'll run the morning errands, probably play a few rounds of gin rummy with the Moth, and then dick around at the old house before the mail comes. I'm not sure. Moving is generally a giant pain in the ass, something we do every 9-13 months. we should be pros at it, but we're nowhere near. Generally, we get rid of things by leaving them in the house we're moving from, but I have a feeling we'll be better about that this time, especially considering we're moving the Moth out too. And she's very nice about moving.
Any tips on how to just move already?
I don't know if it's possible. There's just too much shit.
Today will prove to be a worker-bee type day for me and the Otherh, driving half our asses around Austin in order to get things done so we can move more efficiently. It won't happen. We'll run the morning errands, probably play a few rounds of gin rummy with the Moth, and then dick around at the old house before the mail comes. I'm not sure. Moving is generally a giant pain in the ass, something we do every 9-13 months. we should be pros at it, but we're nowhere near. Generally, we get rid of things by leaving them in the house we're moving from, but I have a feeling we'll be better about that this time, especially considering we're moving the Moth out too. And she's very nice about moving.
Any tips on how to just move already?
I don't know if it's possible. There's just too much shit.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Moving In
Polyfamily, day 2
Well, we've moved into the House of Love, having spent 10 straight days over here. And just in time, as the Otherh has lost his gig. There is a lot of support around us, though, The DJ and the PE aren't worried about money, etc. We need more coffee, alas, for as we live here now, we drink more. DJ drinks decaffe, bless his heart, and PE doesn't drink coffee.
I don't know how to move our stuff over here en masse. We're not bringing most of it, but the computers and tables are first on my list. i figure we could do the tables on top of a car, tied all kinds of ways down, but we need rope. Ah well, rope is cheaper than a uhaul.
I need to pack up the china that I've inherited, which will be an all-day project. However, the moth kept all of our moving boxes from our move up from San Antonio, so boxes won't be a problem. In fact, she's barely unpacked her own boxes from that move, so getting a truck for her will be easy and simple to load. The moth is moving into a cute apartment house not far from the House of Love.
I think we'll get a few new shelves and house cds and books on those. In any event, the book shelves we do have fit nicely in a car.
The Otherh contracts, so losing gigs is par for the course, really. It just generally sucks, though. I figure it'll be two weeks or less til there's something new.
Well, we've moved into the House of Love, having spent 10 straight days over here. And just in time, as the Otherh has lost his gig. There is a lot of support around us, though, The DJ and the PE aren't worried about money, etc. We need more coffee, alas, for as we live here now, we drink more. DJ drinks decaffe, bless his heart, and PE doesn't drink coffee.
I don't know how to move our stuff over here en masse. We're not bringing most of it, but the computers and tables are first on my list. i figure we could do the tables on top of a car, tied all kinds of ways down, but we need rope. Ah well, rope is cheaper than a uhaul.
I need to pack up the china that I've inherited, which will be an all-day project. However, the moth kept all of our moving boxes from our move up from San Antonio, so boxes won't be a problem. In fact, she's barely unpacked her own boxes from that move, so getting a truck for her will be easy and simple to load. The moth is moving into a cute apartment house not far from the House of Love.
I think we'll get a few new shelves and house cds and books on those. In any event, the book shelves we do have fit nicely in a car.
The Otherh contracts, so losing gigs is par for the course, really. It just generally sucks, though. I figure it'll be two weeks or less til there's something new.
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