Cheesesteaks and Soft Pretzels

You know you're a nerd when you order panties based on a recommendation from a Wall Street Journal article, but I have to admit, these aren't bad.

Just got back from a hot afternoon movie theater escape. Saw Garden State. I really liked it. I feel good, and it's not a feel-good sort of movie. It's just life.

So Dad's dating. Intellectually I understand this. Emotionally, it's like being punched in the gut. It's all too weird, too soon. It's only been three months and four days. It's barely a blink of an eye compared to the time they were together. They've been together since their senior prom. They stood next to each other in their kindergarten class picture. That's a really long time and a lot of shared life.

So what I worry about is that he'll be trying too hard to replace that. For god's sake, he has no dating experience. Mom may very well have been his only girlfriend. I just worry that he could easily get in over his head, not knowing what the hell he's doing.

I still have trouble grasping the fact that she's dead and gone, never to return again. There's part of this "dating" thing that feels like treason. There's another part that is the shock of having to suddenly think of my father as an ordinary, run-of-the-mill man. The third part is my selfish fear that there's going to be this part of his life that I know nothing about. It's just such a complete shock and change from what I've ever known, and I don't really know that I can process all of this. Is it easier with divorces? Because the widowed thing feels creepy.

Fortunately, he's coming out here next Sunday. That's two weeks where I don't have to worry about where the heck he is at night. Ok, I sound like an overprotective mother talking about her teenager's curfew, but it just feels so unfamiliar and terrifying on a lot of levels.

Had a long talk with C tonight at dinner about his e-mail chick. Jacqui. With a Q. How could he not adore that? It's just odd enough to appeal to him. The irony of it all is that as he describes her, I know I'd get along with her, just as he would get along with the one that I communicate with. The weirdest part of it all is that we have mutual friends -- even if we're not close with the other's friends, we know them and have hung out with them. But who are the two people in the universe who haven't had contact with the other?

We're lucky. We know we are. We have a really good relationship. But what we realize is that we don't have to be everything to each other. We have a shared foundation, but we can look outside for something more or different without it reflecting on us as us. That probably makes no sense to anyone but me and him.

One of the things he's always said about me is that I have so much love to give, and that there's no way that he could possibly be the recipient for all that love. I need other outlets: neighbor kids, friends, puppies... ok, that might be trivializing it a bit, but he's right. My love and affection for other people and things doesn't detract from my love for him, nor do I think that his interest in her detracts from his love for me. And it's hard to explain unless you've had the kind of relationship we've had, but we're secure. Aside from my initial surprise at it all, I've really been ok with it. It makes him feel good. In the last few weeks he's in the best place he's been in ages in terms of happiness, contentment and life satisfaction. He felt the same way about it when I went through it a few years back. It did good things for me. So why should I have any worries? I know him inside-out and backwards. I have no insecurities here.

Attack of the obvious. I was just sitting here, editing a whitepaper, and all of a sudden I saw my mother, slumped in her chair, blue and lifeless, remote control fallen to the floor. Fuck. I feel like I was hit with a baseball bat. Why does this happen? Why does this just come out of nowhere like it's something new?

It never ceases to amaze me how I can get songs in my head that I haven't heard in ages. Don Henley, "End of the Innocence"

Who knows how long this will last
Now we've come so far, so fast
Somewhere back there in the dust
That same small town in each of us
I need to remember this
So baby give me just one kiss
And let me take a long last look
Before we say goodbye

Just lay your head back on the ground
And let your hair fall all around me
Offer up your best defense
But this is the end
This is the end of the innocence

My little neighbor Emily is going to Portland tonight. She came running over when I went out to take out the trash. "Bye-bye Ee-sa! Wuv you! Be good girl!" Too damned cute.

It's been 13 years that I've obsessively taken my pill every night at 7pm (unless, of course, I'm in another time zone, then I alter accordingly). After three days on the patch I feel so liberated. How can one flesh-colored square do the same thing? It's a marvel of science.

"You know, there's a million fine-looking women in the world, but they don't all bring you lasagna at work. Most of them just cheat on you."

--Silent Bob's words of wisdom from Clerks

A few random thoughts:

Clerks is the ultimate NJ movie.

I cut my ankle the other day and that son of a bitch really hurts.

What if I fail at my new job?

Mom's been gone for three months today.

Why do houses cost so fucking much in this area? It's depressing.

Why do headaches happen?

Can I get the winning lottery numbers so I can get a house with a third bedroom and a comfortable sofa?

You won't read this. You never do. But I'm having one of those nights where for no good reason, I'm particularly delighted by the fact that you're my husband. It's just the way you make me smile. It's basically trivial, but it means a lot to me. I'll miss you when you go to Cleveland tomorrow.

All day long I've had U2's "Walk On" running through my head.

"Love is not the easy thing
The only baggage you can bring
is all that you can't leave behind..."

True of everything, isn't it? What have I brought along to my new job other than baggage? Everything we do is tainted by our past experience. It's not a liability. It's just a fact.

Just watched the Virgin Suicides. God knows I could relate to being under the thumb of an overprotective mother, but rather than bringing back those sorts of memories, I just smiled at the fact that I made it through. I'm my own chica now. There really isn't much of anything that anyone can say to me these days. That's the beauty of finally more or less finding yourself and becoming your own person.

After Austin, I'm going off the antidepressants. I need to take good care of myself between now and then to make the transition as easy as possible. I just need to learn to deal with it. Hereditary serotonin shortage or not, I need to deal with it.

"Life is not perfect. Plus, it is short." -- Bullets Over Broadway

When I worked at Children's Hospital, I was endlessly amazed by all the things that could go wrong with kids, from cancers to heart defects, and the ability of children and families to endure such crises. And then there's this one: http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story2&u=/040818/480/bx10108182349&e=2 Can you imagine that anyone who started so small could actually be alive and well 14 years later?

I thought I would like having my Saturdays to myself while C went to school for his MBA. Instead, it's 2:30pm on the first Saturday and I'm already bored and lonely. This is disappointing. I should be making jewelry (considering that I plan on giving away tons of homemade jewelry for Christmas) or cleaning or doing something useful like ironing my clothes for Monday.

I spend a lot of time wondering who I am, what I've become and where I'm going. This isn't remotely unique. So why the hell do we all go through it? Why haven't we all come up with a way to bypass this? I keep thinking that it would be easy for me to retreat and hide behind my wedding ring and be an extension of him, but I've never really done that before and it doesn't seem like this is the time to start. Besides, he wouldn't let me get away with it. But I'll be damned if I have any clue what my purpose is or if I have any sort of a plan. The whole pilates studio thing sounds so great on paper, except that it doesn't make any money and I'm not remotely successful at it. I could go back to freelancing, but that would involve building the kind of network necessary to generate regular business. I'm not sure that I have that kind of network out here like I did back in NJ. So what next? What do I do, and how do I get there? It's entirely possible that I'm just destined for mediocrity, but I hope that's not the case.

G works with C. Nice chick, lesbian with two kids, never once butted into my life before today. C calls me today and we're chatting, and I hear G talking in the background. I ask what she's saying.

C: "She says that I should get off the phone, go home and make babies."
Me: "What? Since when is G so interested in my uterus?"
C: "Since she realized that she and her partner can't have more kids."
Me: "Ask her if I could just practice."
C: [laughs and asks her] "She says the patch is only 99% effective."
Me: "I've never been one to go against the majority. I'll take my chances. And tell G that my evil spawn, or lack thereof, is really none of her business."

So why is it that everyone thinks they can offer some input into whether or not I have kids? Is it anyone's business but mine? I think not.

So while this whole thing with remote-fling chick Jacqui caught me off-guard, it seems to be working out ok. I do understand how it can be important to share thoughts and feelings with someone on the outside... isn't that what I do here? And besides, he seems to have developed a renewed appreciation for me in the process. When I got back from dad's on Wednesday night, he seemed like he really missed me -- not that he doesn't miss me normally, but it was at a different level, more like it was in the old days, and less like the ordinary ho-hum, we're apart for another few days thing. Yesterday he met me for lunch. It just feels like I've become more important to him (and again, it's not that I wasn't important before, but it's the difference between new-relationship important and old-married important).

And the truth of the matter is that I've missed him, too. He's my best friend. We spend lots of time apart with his traveling, and I've gotten used to it, but sometimes I find that I'm just so delighted to be curling up with him at night. It makes everything feel right again.

The scene: Newark Airport monorail
The cast of characters: Me, a young Japanese couple and a middle-aged man
The event:

I get off the Amtrak train at the Newark Airport station and board the monorail after a brief wait in the station. The Japanese couple is chattering loudly, giggling and looking at me. I'm puzzled. I'm not looking unusual, wearing khaki pants and a black tank top. She approaches and begins speaking in accented English.

Girl: "Hello. May I please you sign here?" She hands me the sleeve holding her tickets.
Me: [puzzled] "Uh, sure."
Girl: "We are been big fan since before you famous." [giggle, giggle]
Me: "Wasn't so very long ago, really."

They get off at the next stop, for the parking garage, clearly not having any clue where they're going. The doors close behind them.

Middle-aged Man: "Forgive my ignorance, but are you famous?"
Me: "Evidently only in Japan."

I don't know who they thought I was.

We're a mere two weeks away from my schedule being posted on the Lake Austin activities page. http://www.lakeaustin.com/schedule_list.php There aren't words to describe how much I'm looking forward to it.

The Olympics are always fascinating. I always marvel at these people who have sacrificed their childhoods to reach these elusive goals every four years. The women's gymnastics team always astounds me. How can girls who are so young and, according to reports, eat so little, actually have enough muscle mass to sustain themselves in these feats of strength?

Valuable lessons that I've learned from my visit with dad:

1) Plants are living things, unless you only water them once a month.
2) Showers are a place to get clean, unless you only scrub the tub with the same frequency with which you water plants.
3) Food left unwrapped in your fridge for weeks can eventually get up and walk away under its own power.
4) Important papers should be filed, not left in vague piles on the floor, especially in summer when you turn on the fan.
5) If the plants in the backyard garden are so out-of-control as to be threatening the viability of your gutters, trim them.

Last night, on redeye flight, C reveals that he nearly hooked up with a woman in Toronto (stopped only by the fact that he was surrounded by coworkers and thought the situation was too awkward to pursue) and has been having an ongoing e-flirt with her through e-mail since. I don't know what about this bothers me. Is it the fact that she's 40, divorced and has two kids, yet was described as "hot"? I really don't want the competition to be of advanced age and still be able to hold her own against me. If she's older, she's supposed to be dumpy, right? Young & hot, old and dumpy. Oh, and she's "funny and brilliant" and works for the Canadian nuclear power agency. Again, I don't want the competition to be better than me. Is that so wrong?

Today is my last day at the job I hate. I was so delighted that I got very strange looks from C this morning as I danced naked around the bedroom.

I saw this headline on Yahoo: "800,000 in Charley's path told to flee"

I read it as "800,000 in Cheney's path told to flee", and couldn't figure out what Dick Cheney was going to do to 800,000 people.

Do you think there's any chance of getting a Blogger t-shirt for Christmas? http://www.googlestore.com/product.asp?catid=5&code=GO0066 I guess it's a lttle late for my birthday.

I want to get shirts like these done for the studio. I have a version already, but it's a bit dated. And I've learned to only order L and XL. The L fits me ok and the XL is for anyone with breasts. M is too small for all but one Asian woman and a vegan instructor. I need a catchy shirt design.

I think my theme for the one-year anniversary open house will be the New Year's Resolution. It's a new year here, so make a promise to treat yourself right.

Someone once told me, "when you can't write, read. Take in as many words as you can. Eventually, something will unlock." I'm off to bed with a book.

Mom, I miss you. I try not to. I try to move on and live a normal everyday life, but I miss you. It's not the same without you. Some things are ok, some things are worse, but none of it is the same. Sometimes I just need my mom. It's hard to know that I'm alone and that you're never coming back. How could you be gone? I've got the whole rest of my life ahead of me, and how am I going to do it by myself? You were always there, never more than a phone call away. Now there's nothing.

I know that Saturday is going to be hard for Dad -- your birthday can't be easy for either of us -- but I'll be there with him so he doesn't have to be alone. I'm trying really hard to take care of myself so I can do my best to take care of him, and he's doing the same. He's a really great father, you know, and he's doing everything he can to make up for the fact that you're not here. He talks to me every day, more than he ever did in a whole month before. He does everything he can, and while I'm so grateful that I have him, it's not the same as having a mother.

I'm sorry I didn't cry before. I think it was shock and disbelief. It's not that I didn't miss you. I did. I do. But for some reason I didn't really cry until today. What changed? Why does it hurt so much today?

I hope you're ok. I hope it wasn't painful. I hope that there is some sort of afterlife for you, even if only for a split second, where you can meet up with Granddad again. I hope you had the chance to talk to Grandmom about the letter and knowing that she did love you after all. You were such a good daughter to her, even though you never gave yourself any credit for it. You gave her everything you had. She appreciated it on some level, I know she did. She had to. I just wish that there was something left of you after she died. I wasn't ready to lose both of you so soon.

Mom, I'm so lonely. I miss you terribly. I need a hug. I just want you to be there when I call. I don't mean to cry about it, it just hurts today. I want everything to be ok. I just wish I could have said goodbye one last time. Bye, Mom. I love you.

This is really fucking sad. I really feel awful on behalf of the families on both sides, knowing that they lost a daughter and were betrayed by a son.
http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/ap/20040810/ap_on_re_us/missing_wife&cid=519&ncid=716

As Marge Simpson says, "I don't have that kind of money to spend on sex."

I can't stand reading the news anymore. There's so much enormously bad shit going on out there in the world. Is it any wonder that a normal person would want to retreat into their home and never watch the TV or read a newspaper? It makes my head spin. I just can't deal with bad stuff anymore.

Ditched the hot summer afternoon and went out to watch the Bourne Supremacy. Decent movie. Excellent car chase.

I got carded today, buying wine to take home to my father. I was so delighted, I told the cashier that he was going to be added to my Christmas list.

I've never really had my own dreams. I don't seem to bother. I have no vision. I say, in theory, that I want to run a pilates business, but I don't know how to make that happen successfully, or really what to do with myself if I ever reach that point. What I really want is flexibility in my schedule, the time and freedom to figure out what makes me tick creatively and make it happen. I want to figure out who I am and what I want before it becomes all about others. I want to feel at peace.

I've been dark lately. I've tried not to be. I know it's something to do with my mother, and yet I can't say that I'm clearly sad or upset or angry. I'm just distant. Everything happens far away and to someone else, it seems. Depression, of course. I just want something to awaken me. I'm hoping that my time away in Austin will give me some time to figure things out, think them through, massage and sweat them away. Maybe it will be none of that. Maybe it will just be regular old me, just in Texas.

I'm scared that I'll never be me again. I want to be passionate about life. I want to dream. I want to feel. Maybe then I'll be able to write again.

My Nana (dad's mom) called me at home yesterday at 9:30AM wondering where I was. I guess if you're retired, everyone is retired. So I called her back today.

Nana: "My refrigerator is broken."
Me: "What? It's not even three months old!"
Nana: "Yes, I called to get the man to come out and fix it."
Me: "What's wrong with it?"
Nana: "You can't put milk on the top shelf."
Me: [deeply puzzled] "Why not?"
Nana: "There isn't enough room. You can't get more than a shallow dish in there."
Me: "Nana? Do you know that you can adjust the shelves?"
Nana: "What?"
Me: "The shelves. You can reposition them to make the space between them bigger or smaller."
Nana: "Oh no, that's where the man put them."

[At this point I'm trying not to beat my head against the desk]

Nana: "There's also no place to put the meat."
Me: "What? There's a whole fridge!"
Nana: "No, I used to store it in the bottom drawers, but those are listed as 'Fruits' and 'Vegetables' in this one. There's no place to put the meat."
Me: [trying not to laugh] "Uh, you could put the meat in one of those drawers."
Nana: "No I can't. It says 'Fruits'. How will I know what's in there if I use it for meat?"

I'm sending my father over to readjust shelves and apply a 'Meat' label to one of the drawers.

There's no better way to start your Thursday morning than with cops and roosters. 5:30AM, just as the sky starts to shift from black to blue, I wake up to hear the sound of footsteps in my driveway, which is directly next to my bedroom window. I'm home alone, so naturally the adrenaline starts pumping fast and furious. But I lay there, still, trying to be calm, until I see my neighbors' motion sensor light go on beside their house. They're away, and since I'm supposed to be watching their place, I panic. I leap out of bed, throw on some jeans and head for the kitchen to grab the cordless phone and call the police. But surprise! They're already parked in the street. So I head outside to talk to the cops to make sure all's well next door. They tell me yes, but they kind of lost track of a fugitive and they're checking yards. Lovely.

So I start chatting with them, asking if they went into my other neighbor's yard. They said yes, and I laughed at the thought that they were probably all hiding in closets in anticipation of another police raid on their drug house. So as we're standing there, the sky gets a little brighter and the morning cry of poultry begins.

Cop 1: "Is that a chicken that I hear?"
Cop 2: "Rooster."
Cop 1: "What?"
Cop 2: "Rooster. Roosters crow. Chickens lay eggs."
Cop 1: "Why would someone have a rooster? Wouldn't a chicken be more practical?"
Cop 2: "Maybe they're stupid like you and didn't know the difference."

So I explain that the rooster is rumored to live three blocks over, although no one has gotten out of bed at this hour to establish residency of the poultry.

Cop 1: "I gotta see this."
Cop 2: "Let's go arrest it."
Me: "Arrest the rooster? Do you have tiny little wingcuffs?"
Cop 2: "Wingcuffs! I love it! 'Come out with your wings up!' Hahaha!"
Cop 1: "They never show you stuff like this on Cops."

So the fugitive was never found, and the duo left in hot pursuit of crowing poultry. I'm starting to think that they may have captured the feathered fugitive since I didn't hear it at all this morning.

# posted by Ali : 1:32 PM

Someone sent me two bits of wisdom today:

You may be only one person in the world, but you might be the world to one person.

Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.