Bread

It's probably best not to consider the long-term effects of the amount of bread (fresh, warm, mmm) that I have just consumed/am in the process of consuming.

Jeff and I do not own a scale. His grandparents, however, do, and thus when we visit, I inevitably weigh myself while there. Of course, this inevitability usually occurs right after a large meal - in this case, Christmas dinner.

I wasn't exactly thrilled to see that I've really gained 20 pounds since meeting my husband.

He says it's a good thing; lots of it is muscle, in my legs, from a summer spent cycling (up to 25 miles at a time). It makes me look more "womanly," and then he said some other things that shouldn't be repeated.

It doesn't help that his sister recently lost probably 45 pounds and now has the "perfect" supermodel (read: tall and stick-thin) figure.

The New Year is a-comin', and with it its pledges and resolutions toward self-improvement.

This year's question ends up being: To join a gym, or not? Chico's weather is great a few months of the year; unbearably hot for maybe a month in the summer, and unpredictable and rainy during the winter. Theoretically, it would be good for me, but I fear that it would end up being a money-sink.

Thoughts, experiences?

Babies

Maybe it's my age, maybe it's seeing Jeff interact with kids. I don't know.

I want a baby.

Not desperately, in a way where I'm going to sabotage our condoms or something like that... but I want a kid. I'm not sure how great I'll do at it, but I KNOW Jeff will be a good dad. He's amazing with his niece, with the kids he works with. They all like him. Strangers' babies stare at him whenever we're out (this must mean something, right?).

So we've set a date. With a few caveats (like, I don't know, that he has paying work), we're going to start trying on his birthday, November 19, of next year.

Oh man.

182

Not including anything my husband has purchased, I have 182 books that I own and have yet to read.

My goal for next year: 60.

We'll see how it goes. Included in that 60, though, will be re-reading the first George R.R. Martin book before the HBO show starts (which I cannot WAIT for, it looks AMAZING).

I've been working on a patchwork quilt. Looking forward to seeing how it turns out. Jeff got me 365 Foundation Quilt Blocks, by Linda Causee, for Christmas. I'd taken it out of the library, so now I can return it because he got me a nice new copy. :D What a great guy.

I live with an idiot

Okay, maybe not an idiot, exactly... maybe just a moron?

Apparently Jeff didn't realize that my top priority for him, now that he's finished his BA and the student-loan-repayment-time-clock is ticking, is getting a job. I found some great positions for him to apply for - including a position similar to his current "job" (if 6 hours/week counts) working with kids who have autism that pays $18/hour - unheard  of in this town! - and he DIDN'T jump right on that? I'm sorry, if I thought I were even vaguely qualified I'D have sent my resume in ASAP.

Sigh. Yes, I really must be Supergirl, since I have to do everything on my own...

But at least our basement is starting to look nice?

Coming soon....

A very lengthy but hopefully thorough list of the books I have in my library that are as-yet unread, to be checked off (so to speak) as I read them.

Goals

This is when we're supposed to set goals for the next year, right? Well...

(italicized items have been completed!) 
 
Okay.

-Read a book a week, all year. If I do that, I'll be "caught up" with my to-be-read pile by the end of 2012, just in time for the world to end.

-Work on the house
    -Finish painting doors in office, install office ceiling fan, and figure out switch in office. Paint closet, possibly install closet organizer
    -Finish hallway at the end of the kitchen (joint compounding, painting, baseboards, chair rail, new doors, door trim)
    -Get kitchen floor tiled - was quoted $400 for labor, not including materials, by a coworker of mine, which definitely seems reasonable, given all the angles around our cabinets
    -Complete random tasks like switching outlets and outlet covers, as necessary
    -Hopefully remodel the bedroom, including tearing out old carpet/laying new carpet, new window, maybe replacing the sliding glass door with a bigger window and filling in the rest (aforementioned coworker says it's definitely doable), smoothing out walls, painting, figuring out better solution for basement entrance, installing ceiling fan, redoing closet arrangement
    -Roll out insulation in attic and put down plywood so it can properly be used as storage.

-Make sure Jeff gets a job so we can complete all "work on the house" tasks.

-Working out - oh, a love-hate relationship here. Three times a week? Who knows. We'll see how that goes.

-Set up an Etsy.com shop - why not, maybe it'll pay for my newfound love of sewing. If not, then I'll jsut have a shitton of purses to give away, huh?

That's all I've got for now. Now, to find motivation... anyone up for helping? LOL.

I want to be lonely again

It's so much easier to be lonely than to be a friend to someone, anyone. There are days when I miss being invisible. I want so badly sometimes to say "No, I do not want to see you today, or hang out, or whatever, even though we always do that on this day," but I don't get that choice anymore, because people don't exactly appreciate that.

But it would be easier.

I even prefer playing World of Warcraft alone most of the time. Yes, I'd get farther, faster, with others, but I like feeling like I'm the only one in that world, sometimes.

It doesn't help that many of the people I have to be around a lot drive me insane, and don't make any sense to me. Some day things will change, but for now, there's nothing to be done about them.

I'm rambling.

It's sleepytime. Sorry if this was a disappointing return.

The House, part one: Homebuying

We’ve come close to completing a room in our house just for me. An office. Gray walls, with girly purple and tropical blue-green trim, black switch covers, brushed nickel accessories. A huge window behind my computer monitor, a whole wall full of bookshelves. Soon there will be a futon, for guests, or for me for reading with a kitten in my lap. Custom made curtains, sewed together by a teacher and friend (and eventually, hopefully, matching throw pillows, just because Jeff hates them). 

Having reached this milestone, I’m looking back on where this poor house was when we started. 

The first time I came here, you could barely see it. The front yard was fenced in by a chain-link fence covered in ivy. The driveway was home to two falling-apart cars (one a Pontiac, the other a Saturn, for what it’s worth). The patio was covered – couches, a dryer, a dining room table. The yard, littered with the debris of humanity – a tile saw, a washing machine, children’s toys, a lumber rack for a pick-up truck. The garage, stuffed full, of recyclables and garbage and outgrown items. Even inside, one could barely see. The first visit with Alisha, my amazingly patient real estate agent, we ducked through the rooms, uncomfortable while we were clearly intruding upon a family gathering – mama, papa, tres ninos, una tia, la abuela, sitting around the television, dwarfed by an enormous entertainment center. This family, renting from their extended family, from some cousins, supposedly. Rooms, stuffed to the brim, walls covered (with family photographs, prints of portraits of saints), floors covered in clothes. It was an awkward visit to say the least.

I said I’d take it. 

We couldn’t afford any other house on the market; this one was cheap, having been on the market for almost a year and having dropped in price by $80,000 to the measly price of only $110,000 (it’s public record, it’s not like you couldn’t find out if you wanted to). 

My second visit there was for the home inspection. I pitied the guy, having to “inspect” the house while it was occupied, still full of family. I watched the mother of the family walk outside to find dirty dishes in a dishpan on that table on the porch, only to bring them inside, wash them in the crowded sink (in the middle of the counter, also covered with dirty dishes), to feed her children out of them. Signing important paperwork on the family’s dining room table, sticky with sugar, the residue of children. Speaking in hushed tones, discussing the house’s regrettable condition, hoping not to offend la familia.

The house was so crowded that the home inspector found the house to have three bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms, little else of note.

When the family moved out (initially leaving behind all the debris in the yard), we found that the house actually has two full bathrooms – and even a basement – the entry for which had been covered with furniture, or clothes, or something, so the home inspector didn’t see that it was there. 

The buying process was a nightmare. I don’t think it could have gone any worse. We had to apply for an FHA loan, so more inspections were required – all of which the house failed, of course. It needed outlet covers to hide exposed wires, the whole garage was considered “unappraisable.” The roof needed a special inspection; at one point, rather than replace the old roof, they simply added a new one on top of the old one. Eventually the new roof settled, so the upper roof doesn’t sit in a straight line, creating worries that the roof sagged. As it turned out, this was a good thing, in a way; the contractor decided that, if anything, we had TOO MUCH roof for our little house. 

The owners themselves were another story. The husband, in prison, for selling cocaine and illegal weapons possession. The wife, unable to speak English, unable to read or write even in Spanish, her native language, signed her name as “ + “, so she couldn’t be the only signer; a power of attorney was required, necessitating another visit by the notary. It would have been easier had he been in jail; notaries can go into jails, easily, but prisons are another story. Add to that, the prison was an hour or two away, and it’s more complicated still. For what it’s worth, he’s out on parole now, released the day after escrow closed, with a list of conditions a mile long. 

Of course the loan process couldn’t be easy, either. Despite claims that my loan officer was really, really good, I felt like I had to do half the work – I was supposed to verify that an account was closed (even though I had already done that). I had to verify several large deposits into my account (aka, one time financial aid deposits that I had already provided documentation for). Hell, I had to call one of Jeff’s former employers – from before he even moved to Chico! – to get them to call her to verify his employment. Sorry, Dr. Traver, but I did that in the middle of your Victorian Lit class one day. 

Close of escrow was shoved back time after time, for one thing or another. Loan issues, inability to get signatures because of language barriers, agreed-upon repairs delayed because of contractor issues. Said contractor added all the necessary outlet covers…except one… so an extra trip by the bank’s appraiser was required. Ultimately, we moved in, prior to close of escrow , after we convinced the loan officer with yelling, crying, and threatening to move all my business away from the bank, that we were going to be homeless if we didn’t move… we finally did. 

I regretted it for maybe the first six months.

More to come. 

Icebergs

Sometimes we come across people who surprise us; who, like an iceberg, have put up an icy facade, yet with more hiding beneath the surface that we initially expect. The sexy blond 20-something who also sings opera, perhaps, or the bodybuilder with a fondness for fondue and kittens instead of beer and bulldogs. I can think of at least one person specifically who is like this, who looks very much like she "should" behave one way, but who instead manages to behave both the way she appears as well as in a much deeper, "meaningful" way (as far as society would define it, anyway).

Other times we encounter people who are not so deep; they are not "icebergs," where only a fraction of who they are shows through at the surface. They turn out to be the blue-cold people their surfaces portray, more like icicles hanging from a frozen gutter - simultaneously fragile and dangerous.

I encountered one of these people today, one of those icicles, and it made me sad. We had been friends, and had some sort of falling out. I've written about this before, and I apologize; I don't have many friends, so losing one causes perhaps more anxiety than it would for others. Anyway, another acquaintance (of mine, who doesn't know this person) asked me, "Does she hate you?" He meant it jokingly, but it startled me. I had to tell him I have no idea; I have no idea why we aren't friends, or what her feelings are towards me, or what happened to sever the communication.

I reached out to this person today, to offer congratulations, a wish of good luck, and a tidbit of advice about an upcoming event... and was surprised...

Surprised because all I got was the icicle - the pointy end, at that. Words like "professionalism" and "sincerely," "appreciate" and "honestly," which make me think the person is not interested in being professional, acting with sincerity, expressing appreciation, or being honest.

I worry, now, about the outcome of the aforementioned upcoming event, as it could put me in closer contact with the iciclegirl... and I seem to have lost my mittens.

Down day

Having the down sort of day where I wonder why I bother. Why bother trying to have friends, when, in my experience, as soon as you get close, as soon as you trust, they decide "oh, sorry, we can't be friends anymore," or something happens and you drift apart. With Facebook and other websites doing such a "good" job of connecting people, it's not like you can sever ties as easily as you once could... Instead of the feuding parties accidentally getting invited to the same party, you get them commenting on the same status, or photo, or whatever. "Oh, wait, maybe I should take down all these photos and erase that person from my online life completely."

As if I can do that. Yes, you were my best friend for more than 10 years; let me pretend that connection never existed. Or you, we were hardly friends for what, a year, before you got rid of me, or your boyfriend did, or whatever; I wear other-than-white socks now, because you made me notice, and think they were cute, and that maybe I could/should wear them, too.

Maybe I should do a pre-emptive strike, and cut all my strings first. Ditch Facebook, delete the blog, stop doing anything remotely friendly.

Some days the risks of friends outweigh the rewards.

Advice

I'm never sure how to help people who are looking for advice, particularly because I can't always tell if people want help or simply want to talk about their lives and know if someone's listening. The last person I seriously tried to advise about anything isn't speaking to me anymore; whether directly because of my advice or not, I'm not sure, but it can't be good.

The weather's getting increasingly fall-like here, finally. Still hit 85 today, but 85 is better than 95, so I'll take what I can get.

I'm looking forward to Jeff having a birthday party (his b-day's a month from today) and to Thanksgiving. I've really been missing my husband's family lately.

An old man was across the street (visiting our blind across-the-street neighbor, I assume). He didn't seem to believe me when I told him that I own the house now. The blind (well, he's "legally blind," so I guess he can see a little) man who lives in the house thought that some Hispanic family, including a woman who works "at that big drugstore out there... [he pointed north]" lived here. I'm fairly sure no one who's ever at our house fits that description. Just an interesting encounter. I found it amusing that the man didn't believe me when I told him I own the place. Believe me, there are days I want to give it back to the Rodriguez family, trust me...like the day I dropped $90 on baseboards and trim. That's no fun at all.

But it's MY crackhouse. And that's something.

Calm yourself

Much relief came today upon finding out that Jeff won't need any kind of oral surgery after all. His home-remedy of taking a scalpel to his own jaw seems to have cleared up the problem he was having, so now he's back on track to get as many cavities filled as our insurance will pay for this year.

I was supposed to take a test tomorrow for a position as a public safety dispatcher for the local police department. As much as I'd love a new job (and the slight pay raise that goes with this position), I've decided to forgo this particular opportunity. Given my history with anxiety and general panic-y-ness, I didn't think a stress-filled position like this one would be a particularly good environment.

On a side note... sometimes family creates much more stress than it's worth. I'm so fortunate to have great in-laws like my mother-in-law, Cindy; my sister-in-law, Janet; and both of Jeff's grandparents (alright, alright, and his dad, too. LOL). That's all I'll say on that topic for the time being.

Painting

I'm an epic failure at home improvement.

Though I suppose, if nothing else, I'm good at swiping my credit card at various home improvement stores (Home Depot today, though usually Lowe's) so that Jeff can continue working on all of our projects.

I'm a much better supervisor. He's currently putting primer on the walls of my office. I can't wait until it's done. I look forward to having a COMFORTABLE place to go to play WoW or read or do whatever.

Other than that, a mostly-lazy weekend. Yesterday I planted flower bulbs. I hate that I did all that work, and there's nothing to show for it but some empty plastic wrappers - but as they say, good things come to those who wait, right? I look forward to having a circle of daffodils surrounding our baby Japanese maple, and for the Monet's tulip collection (pretty shades of white, purple and pink!) blooming under the neighbor's stupid grapefruit tree.

There was family drama this morning. Things I thought had kind of gone away. Sigh.

Guess I'm pretty disjointed today. A little blue. Looking forward to seeing progress, though.

Curtains

Tonight I picked Dianna up from work, we grabbed some pizza, and came back to my house where she and I entertained the kittens while Lynn started working (so graciously, oh my gosh, seriously, I can't thank her enough) on the curtains for my office! I'm so excited - there will be enough left over for matching pillows. I wish I had a sewing machine. Maybe someday, as it isn't in the money-cards right now.

Because we had company over, my cats are completely cracked-out hyper. Running all around, nibbling, clawing, who knows. Lunatics. Good news, though - I spent three and a half hours around them and hardly got kitty-sick at all. I've got a wee bit of a sniffly nose, and my right eye itched (it's always the right one!) for a little while, but other than that I've been really good. That's such a great sign!

Work was not so great today. Yesterday I did a whole heap of work to help another employee - not really to help her out, but mostly to help her out the door, ifyouknowwhatImean. She had a heap of filing to do, and I got it all in order for her, so all she had to do was go take it to the filing cabinets, and get 'er done. Does she do that? No. I don't know why I actually expected her to suddenly turn into a competent employee. Instead, she filed maybe 1/5 of the paperwork, then spent the remaining FOUR HOURS of her day making new folders, which shouldn't have taken her more than half an hour, tops.

I guess sometimes I just need to set the bar lower.

Did I mention that I have a job interview in a few weeks? Sigh.

Dehydrated

Apparently I've been so dehydrated lately that my scalp has just itched non-stop. Pretty gross. A good metaphor though.

Got some good news on the job front - not that I "need" a new job, as I'm well paid at the one I've got, but after more than six years, it's time to move on. Anyway, a few months ago I applied for two positions with the city. Last week I took the test for a job as "Police Records Clerk" with the local police department. I needed a 70 to pass the exam; I scored a 93.6! Hooray! The top 20 scorers out of probably 80 or 100 test-takers get an interview, then they select the top candidates for a background check. Keep your fingers crossed for me! Next week I test for the "public safety dispatcher" position they're hiring for. I'm not as hopeful for that position - not because I don't think I'd do well on the tests or be unable to otherwise qualify, but I have a feeling it would aggravate my anxiety.


What else is going on? Hm. Girls' night in with Dianna on Friday! Hooray! That'll be fun. Any movie suggestions, readers? I haven't seen most movies ever - I lack the attention span. I much prefer TV shows, my favorites being House, Bones... mostly those two, lol. I watched The Office for a long time, but now that Jim and Pam are together, I seem to have lost interest. My favorite movie is probably Garden State - I love the soundtrack, and think Zack Braff is absolutely adorable. It might be time to rewatch that one soon, it's been a while.

(yay for being in a pretty good mood, huh!?)

I've lost track of what meme day it is.

I must be really bad at this, if I can't count. Hah. I'm either supposed to put in a photo of the last thing I bought (groceries, not exciting at all) or of my favorite place to eat, which I don't have a photo of. Sorry.

I love my kittens. Just putting that in there. I was worried that I wouldn't, or that they wouldn't love me, but Molly's pretty much a whore who will sit on everyone (except maybe Alex), and Wrench won't really sit on anyone (except maybe Alex).

I'm looking forward to Thanksgiving, and seeing Memaw and Bapaw (Jeff's grandparents) and then having orphan Thanksgiving with the leftovers. I'm reading the book Urban Tribes: Are Friends the New Family?. I've really enjoyed it thus far, as I feel like it's legitimized the way I live (or at least am trying to be)- far from my family, but with a handful of close friends. Having friends has always been a struggle, but I've got some great ones now (whether close by like Dianna or far like Renee!), and am slowly getting used to the fact that they aren't going to just ditch me.

It's time to hang out with the kittens, I think.

Yes.

Caught!

I got my husband to admit that the bone chip that was plaguing his gums did not just fall out on its own.

He used the scalpel from his dissection kit to score the bone chip, then tweezers to pull it off. He said it hurt immensely, and then nothing.

Sigh. I love him, but he makes me so angry! (Insert Desi-Arnaz-type "LUCY!" here!).

Monday opened with a trip to the DMV - yuck! An extra $31 for my registration because they didn't cash the check soon enough - I swear (no, really!) that it was post-marked in time. Next year, check goes straight to the DMV.

The meme I'm supposed to be doing asks for a song that fits my mood lately. I haven't been able to get Miranda Lambert's "The House that Built Me" outta my head for ages now. Since I'm in the process of remodeling a house with my husband, and haven't always had the best relationship with my folks... yeah. Here's a link to it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=96-P6eUjHXE

Have a great Monday. :)

Copycat, sure, why not

1. What is the best dish you can make?
Do toast, hot pockets, bagel bites, or fish sticks count? No? Well, I made a nice sloppy joe concoction the other day. I really don't cook.

2. How often do you change your sheets?
Honestly, since we moved, I haven't gotten around to putting sheets on the futon. (This is a terrible excuse, as we moved... last December).

3. What is the longest car trip you have ever taken?
From Chico, CA, to Couer d'Alene, in northern Idaho, and then back a week later. I don't remember how long it was. It felt like days. All I really remember is Oregon being really ugly, and having strange dreams after falling asleep to Marilyn Manson.


4. What is your favorite fruit?
Currently, raspberries.


5. Would you rather have breakfast for dinner or dinner for breakfast?
Breakfast for dinner. We do that regularly. I love me some waffles. :)

Day 6: Pet?

My husband and I got married here in Chico, CA; since I'm from Pennsylvania, this meant that not all of my family could come out for the wedding. We decided to honeymoon on the east coast so that everyone could meet him.

Because we love going to zoos and aquariums and stuff, we went to both the Philadelphia Zoo and the National Zoo in Washington, DC. The National Zoo still had a bunch of pandas from China. While we were at the exhibit, we ran into a British family. The daughter kept saying, in an adorable little-British-girl voice, "Mummy, I want a panda!"

Thus the panda is my choice for "Animal I'd like to keep as a pet." Because that girl was adorable, and we still use her voice around the house occasionally.

Other, more relevant news: Jeff may not have to have oral surgery? The bit of bone that was sticking out above his gums is no longer sticking out above them, mostly because it's no longer in his mouth at all. While he claims innocence, I imagine that he was wrenching around in there with pliers or a chisel or something and got it out. Long story short, he says he feels much like the lion after the mouse removes the thorn from its paw: tiny sliver removed = immense relief. Further, his gums now close over bit of jaw bone that was sticking out. He's going to finish his course of antibiotics and then head back to the oral surgeon to (hopefully, fingers crossed) get out of having to have surgery at all.

Sigh of relief

Jeff's "surgery" won't be as dramatic (by that I mean costly) as originally thought. The oral surgeon's office called him back today and said that it shouldn't be more than $350 after our insurance covers their part. Unfortunately, it's likely he won't be able to get any additional work done (he's got a bunch of cavities to be filled) until next year, but I'd much rather have it this way than an enormous amount out-of-pocket.

Of course... on top of this news yesterday, we also find out that he owes an additional $360 in tuition to Chico State because, well, California can't be bothered to pass a budget, and everyone knows college students are made of money, right?

Today's meme assignment was to add my favorite photo of my best friend. So...there's a picture of me and Jeff on our wedding day, June 13, 2009. <3

Sorry...

for not following the meme. It's been a busy 24 hours.

Last night we had our friends Alex and Dianna over to watch House. I had gathered a gift for Dianna - a bunch of leftover/scrap fabric - from some people on The Internet (okay, really it was Freecycle.com - which I recommend you join if there's one in your area) and was excited to present it to her (by present I really mean plop in her lap and say "PRESENT!"). Because I was excited, I didn't spend any time in my office, which is currently acting as a sort of "clean room" for me to go into to avoid being around the kitties for a while.

I ended up a blind, allergic mess for about an hour last night. What I'd have done without Jeff, I don't know (besides not have the kittens and thus not have had the problem in the first place. You know what I meant). I alternated between sobbing "I don't wanna get rid of the kitties" and "I can't be sick anymore" and "I can't abandon them like everyone abandons meeeeeeeeeee." Meltdown of the highest order. Thankfully I was able to shower and be cuddled long enough to (eventually) see again.

Today, Jeff had a dentist appointment to have the sutures removed from when he had a wisdom tooth extracted last week. That didn't go so well. He was told that he likely needs surgery to shave down part of his mandible in order to avoid infection. His bone apparently grew faster than his gums did, leaving the bone exposed and vulnerable (oh the metaphor available here!). He was given antibiotics and an immediate consultation with an oral surgeon.

I haven't spoken to him since, so I'm still operating (harhar) under the assumption that he'll have to have surgery.

We cannot afford this.

There are no oral surgeons who are in our dental insurance's network in this county; the closest is 45 minutes away and isn't a realistic option for his care. He's decided to take the antibiotics, consult with a professor of his who has been an oral/facial reconstructive surgeon for decades regarding the necessity of the procedure and who the professor would recommend, and get at least one additional opinion from another in-network dentist.

It took a lot for me not to start crying at my desk. I guess at least with the cats in the house, I can use them as an excuse. Poor girls.

Blog meme day one

Day 1: A photo of yourself and a description of how your day was.

Well there it is. Me, after a mind-numbing day at work.

Wait, I guess that's killing two birds with one stone, allowing the photo to do the talking. Alright.

Well, today was like any other Monday, though with the added bonus of the boss being out of town. I work at a car dealership (new Nissans and Hyundais, as well as used vehicles, parts, service, etc.) in the accounting department. I do all accounts payable work, as well as photograph the vehicles for our various websites, make sure the info on those websites is accurate, type emails and shit for the boss, create all kinds of mailers, and do pretty much anything else anyone can come up with for me to do.

Except today... as it's the end of the month, and there was little to no work to be done. Yikes.

The only good thing that happened today is...maybe...just maybe...the office's village idiot will FINALLY go away. Lying is bad, mkay?

Other events of today include getting the stucco around our new window patched (yay for seemingly endless home improvements) and acquiring some items for a friend of mine. More on that tomorrow (provided all goes well).

Back in the saddle

I haven't done this in a while. I'm beginning to be afraid that every post will start that way. But Renee has a 30 day blog meme thingamajig that she's doing, and I'm hoping it will get me back into the habit of writing.

That, and my need to know, and to help others know, that they're not alone.

I feel alone a lot, despite living with an adoring husband and (as of recently!) two adorable kittens. Humans are strange creatures - I have proof (nearly scientific proof, even) that kittens/cats/felines make me physically ill, and yet I gave into the peer pressure from others to get a pair of cats. Sigh. They ARE adorable, though, so now we just have two "clean rooms" in our house where I can go to air out.

Anyway, lately I've had this recurring feeling of abandonment. My first love, and first "real" best friend, Nate, stopped talking to me last summer. We met the summer I was 13, he was 15 (1998, if you're keeping track) at nerd camp (oh I'm sorry, a Johns Hopkins program for gifted kids) at Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois. I fell hard, fast, and for quite a long time for that blonde boy from Ohio who was taking a computer science class - which seemed much less interesting and more interesting simultaneously than the biology I was studying, but anyway. We kept in touch, sporadically by telephone at first, then more regularly by e-mail/AIM when those were accessible. We saw each other through a lot of things. Were we still in contact, by next summer we'd have been friends for 50% of my life.

Then his girlfriend decided our relationship was "inappropriate" because we talked about sex, and men and women who weren't dating each other shouldn't talk about that. She only knew we were talking about that subject because she kept track of his instant message conversations and hacked into his e-mails, despite his creating new ones so she couldn't keep up. She also failed to notice the section of the conversation where I convinced him not to seek out a prostitute or other method of cheating on her.

Oh, we women and our selective eyes/ears!

I've felt another abandonment of sorts recently. A friend of mine, we met in the Air Force. Unbeknownst to us at the time (though photo-documented, and realized later) we were sworn in together at MEPS before shipping out to Lackland AFB. (Side note, blogger wanted to change Lackland to Lackluster. Also appropriate.) Anyway, we went to Monterey together, bonded over a shared history of Pennsylvania residency and the tedium of middle class upbringings. I was discharged and he was shipped to other bases, but we kept in touch through sporadic, double entendre-filled emails. Fast forward, he moves to Chico. Forward some more, his girlfriend joins him. A little later (a year? six months? I've lost track) and he (she? who knows) decides that we've "drifted apart," are "moving in different directions," or something.

I was broken up with by another male friend, and cannot help but suspect that the girlfriend was the source/cause.

I also cannot help but feel like it's my fault, or some flaw in me that makes me threatening. Perhaps I should limit my friends to women, or those in committed/establish relationships. I don't know.

At least both situations led to poems that I'm fond of. Perhaps I'll post them soon.

It's raining, it's pouring.

Last summer, in order to help with my depression, I took up cycling. I got to the point where I could ride more than 25 miles straight (through the lovely one-horse town of Hamilton City, California, and halfway to Orland, the podunk town beyond that, then back to Chico to collapse for the rest of the day...and oh yeah, that was on a 95+ degree day). This time last year I'd have been riding already, to work and back, or wherever.

But this year, it's still raining. Raining on an irregular enough basis that I can't ride to work. Today was laundry day at our house - five loads of laundry at the not-really-close-by laundromat I go to because they have wi-fi and because it was the first place I went to and because I hate change and am not interested in figured out a different laundromat. When I walked in, it was sunny; when I was done, it was raining cats and dogs, (insert weather cliche here).

Since I haven't been able to start biking yet, I've started gardening. Jeff and I have talked about getting fish, but I was afraid - I can hardly grow plants, how on earth will I keep a little life, even just a Betta fish, alive?? How will I deal with that? I've felt that anxiety even with my plants - I started a morning glory plant indoors, watched it grow, it was three or four inches tall, and I guessed that it was ready to move out into the Big Wide World.

Apparently not. It was destroyed by insects within a few days.

Describing what I felt as "heartbroken" was hardly an exaggeration, as sad as that may seem. My grandmother had a beautiful mound of morning glories in her yard every year, and I was looking forward to having it climb up the pole that holds our mailbox. I felt like I was letting Grammy down.

Thankfully I'd planted multiple seeds at the same time. The second one isn't as tall as the other one was when I moved it outside...but that one wasn't ready. I'll wait longer, until it's a bit taller, better able to withstand the Big Scary Bugs.

And now it'll have a plastic velociraptor and a glass saint to guard him, relics from the house's previous occupants that I found in the garden.

We all need someone watching out for us.

I'm not as young as I used to be.

My 25th birthday is Friday, and my husband and I are throwing me a birthday party.

I haven't had one of those is nine years; for my 16th, I invited all my friends over and we had a very mundane sleepover in my much-too-small bedroom. I think we were all asleep by 11, thanks to my mom ushering us upstairs so we wouldn't keep my kid sister awake. I remember singing Limp Bizkit's "Faith" very obnoxiously.

Good times.

Today, though, I realized that I'm not as young as I used to be. Unfortunately this realization came with the onset of a massive sinus headache that slammed into my face at 4PM. A 45 minute visit to the post office didn't help. I normally love the post office - I love any kind of predictable bureaucracy. Today, though...multiple people in front of me with multiple heavy packages headed to Mexico; an annoying man with an eBay business; and a maid-of-honor with her friend's wedding invitations arguing over postage (heaven forbid you have TWO stamps on the envelopes!).

I don't know what annoyed me more, though - the people who did nothing wrong other than be in front of me in line, or the headache that was clawing at my skull. Either way, it made me feel old.

I skipped class. I laid around on the couch and enjoyed being with my husband instead.

Maybe being old ain't so bad.

Well hello there

It has recently been brought to my attention that I'm amusing. Not the first time I've heard this, I'll admit--the first therapist I stuck with told me he looked forward to my sense of humor.

Four years later and I'm still not sure if that was a compliment. (He wasn't a particularly good therapist, but if nothing else he made me feel like I had a good sense of humor).

This blog won't be all rainbows and kittens, I'll warn you of that right now. As I mentioned above, the "you've got a great sense of humor" therapist wasn't the first one, nor the last...even the last one I saw probably won't be the last...which is too bad, because saying "My last therapist was Dr. Quinn." Yes, really, like the show...but without this guy:


to distract me from "treatment." I've been dealing (or not dealing) with depression off and on since high school, with increasing levels of anxiety over the years. It alienated me in high school, contributed greatly to my early departure from the Air Force, and trapped me in a dysfunctional relationship for much too long.

But I'm trying hard. Harder, actually, now that the times, they are a-changin'. I got married last June, bought a house last December, and I'll graduate from college in May. Big changes are triggers for me, and I know that, and I'm trying to prepare. Thanks for coming along for the ride.