on the move, but not gone from here

visit my new blog for more fun, less angst!!

also less filling, but it tastes great.

still here…

It’s been a long time since I’ve posted to this site. I have been crazy busy at work, and when I’m that busy during the day, I seriously lack the energy to reflect coherently.

things have been pretty topsy-turvy. i inherited a task at work that i loathed but executed to the best of my ability, i think. i had a lot of support from some friends and that felt pretty darn fabulous. levi and his girls came for a night. my family came to spend the weekend. oh, and i had to move. it’s a long, ugly story. i packed up my house in three days and moved. that was hard.

i’ve been living without much intention and i want to change that. i don’t have to live that way! ugh.

my friend kristen became a mom and lost her father to cancer last week. all in the same sixty minutes. god’s grace is so big. i hurt for her though.

each us struggle with our own stuff, you know? it is this person working through this issue, that person dealing with that insecurity. i worry. i wish. i hope.  i fear. what i should be doing is praying. that’s been particularly hard as of late.

broke[n]

Lord I cry out to you to lift me from this miry pit and set my feet upon a rock. Give me a new song to sing.

theseventeenth

two years ago today i became darcie’s owner. then she spelled her name darcy. the new spelling is a little bit sassier. it fits. i’m glad i have her although i was overwhelmed at first. i needed her and she needed me. she’s the bee’s knees.

i didn’t really think it would come to an end like it did, but alas, what do i know?

the electricity in my house is acting very strangely. i don’t think this is a good thing. not at all.

even after all of this time, memories still come out of nowhere. i don’t understand. i don’t know why. what does it mean? why? if only i had a tiny bit of a clue.

i miss the way it was.

meMarmony

I was curious. Curiosity and broadband internet access and post-midnight surfing rarely reach a good end.

And then the damn commercials kept coming on. So I signed up for a spin on neal[neil?]clarkwarren’s (very expensive) merry-go-round.

Fifty-nine matches in just under thirty days. Is this good? Sub-par? I know not what the measuring implement says. (I can’t see it when I hold it.)

I’m in “open communication” with one and headed that way with two others. I must tell the truth–I feel a lil bit trampy. My dating experience has been much more like a defensive struggle (low-scoring, looooots of time between touchdowns) than a scoring free-for-all (defense? what? we’re talking a football game where both opponents score more than sixty points). As a result, it seems strange to be in conversation with more than one potential suitor at a time.

I’m getting used to it though.

This year I’m feeling quite vulnerable to the craziness of St. Valentine and his silly day.  Poop.

I really, really miss my Mom. Oh my heavens, it just takes my breath away, how much I miss her. I have to keep reminding myself that she’s never coming back. I know you don’t understand, but it’s true. I know I’m not the only one to have ever lost someone, but it feels like it.
I feel very much alone.

Cut.

And I have a post brewing in my head about buttons.

happiness

my wish–to go back here

haze yourself to sleep

i was folding my laundry this evening and thinking about the yuckiness of this past week a little bit, trying to see things from the point of view of the students, trying to make some sense of what went on. i have to cede that position, or the attempt to take that position, because too many years have passed since i was there. i can’t un-know the stuff i know that now makes that kind of foolishness completely intolerable. here’s what i do understand, as it relates to this subject.

• treating people harshly is one hundred percent incompatible with what is best for them, and by extension, best for your club.
• doing something just because “that’s the way we do it” is a piss-poor excuse for doing something that you know is wrong in the eyes of the university and the state laws as they are now written. (not fifty years ago, there were entrances and water fountains for black people in the south because that was the way it was. it’s equally dumb in both situations. when you know better you do better.)
• being in a social club is a privilege, not a right. inducting new members? also a privilege. don’t act all self-righteous and afflicted when the school tells you so.
• as a member of the university community, when you haze your pledges, (and let’s call it what it is, shall we? yes.) it affects me personally. not because the calls come into my office. not because i have to deal with it in the daily meeting at three in the board room, but because i love my school and your actions are shameful. your kind of love is the same kind we tell women (and men) to run from when it shows up as bruises and apologies. don’t treat me like shit and tell me you love me.
• if i didn’t love my school, if i didn’t think the students were capable of better, if i didn’t think that this could be a positive, useful experience, i wouldn’t care that you haze. i really wouldn’t. but i do. and you claim to want to fix it. so do. and incremental isn’t enough.
• and for the love of all that’s holy, don’t lie about it. don’t add a falsehood on top of the misdeeds already on the table. duh.

and really, in the grand scheme of things, all of this is such bullshit. it doesn’t matter at all. this is small potatoes in the grand scheme of things. time will cause this to fade in intensity as other issues become the ones to be handled on any given day. and in the venerable words of martha stewart, “that’s a good thing.”

miles and miles

pledge: a binding commitment to do or give or refrain from something; an assurance of help when needed

i hate this time of year on my campus. i hate it. the students who are members of clubs take this week to turn into the most hateful creatures on the planet under the guise of “pledging” new members. what that has to do with sisterhood or brotherhood, i’ll never know. well, i cognitively understand the arguments, but i don’t buy them. they are full of false logic. a student who happens to be a pledge master for one of the men’s groups (and i call him a “man” in the most generous use of the word…really he’s a boy-jerk) chewed me out on sunday night and it has gotten a little uglier each day since, but in ways i didn’t anticipate. i’ve seen arrogance and ugliness and conceit in students and i’ve seen how it is institutionalized in their clubs. i have heard things this week about what these students do to each other in the name of “bonding” and i think that they give away their allegiance far too cheaply. the over-emotional state that these students live in has caused them to stand out in sharp relief against the idea that they are adults. so many of them have no clue about how the world works. (i confess i didn’t either…i wasn’t necessarily any better off. i did try not to broadcast it and i was never as disrespectful to adults as these students have been to me, this week.)

the thing that keeps rolling through my head is this: i have to be more clear about the boundaries i draw between myself and the students i befriend. it’s never been more clear to me than this week that no matter what, i have to put the needs and responsibilities of the university and my job first. my approach to things has been so out of kilter. there should have never been a situation where a student felt comfortable using the word “nigger” in my office. never. there should have never been any question that we are not peers. we can be friendly, but not friends. the re-realization of this burdens me a bit. it just reminds me of how things really are, as opposed to how i wish them to be.

my position has meaning and it has value, but i have to remember who i am and who i’m not. i have limited influence and impact. i have to compete with all of the “want-to” advice that students hear from each other as opposed to the “have-to” advice that i am charged with giving. they don’t have to like it. i can’t take it personally when they don’t.

as i move through these realizations, i have so many things i wish i could talk over with my mom. her birthday was a couple of weeks ago. i miss her so deeply. i dreamt about my great-grandmother’s house a few nights ago, knowing that though she was gone and my mom was gone, being in that space was a link to my mom and the place where she spent some important years in her childhood. i remember walking around the rooms, wondering what my mom was like at ten, at twelve, at sixteen. i can remember the height of the ceilings and the color of the oak floors in the house in the dream. i wish i could go back there each night to spend some more time with the memory of my childhood mom.

my dreams are nonsensical but they bring me shards of peace.

senses.

i love having five senses. i so appreciate that god, in his infinite wisdom, saw fit to give us five different ways to sense our world. sometimes i wonder which one is my favorite.

is it touch? i certainly love to touch and be touched. i love to have my friends near and hold hands, to get hugs, to pat or rub a friend’s back. scalp massages, kisses on the cheek…i love touch.

what about sight? there’s so much beauty in nature. i can’t imagine not being able to see the graceful curves of flowers or animals. if i couldn’t see the beauty of a cloudy sky or a starry night, my world would be less good for sure. and color! so many beautiful colors.

say what? i couldn’t hear you. ah, how i love my ears! not only do they help to hold sunglasses in the right spots, they funnel sounds into my brain. music. the voices of loved ones. the laughter of a child. coffee brewing. money coming out of an atm. (i have shopping issues.) music. yeah, i know i already said it, but it’s just so necessary. my father’s wife doesn’t really like music. she much prefers talk radio to any genre. strange. particularly since my father is such a lover of music. but heck, what do i know?

the last two–taste and smell are inextricably linked. my grandmother–mom’s mom–didn’t have much of a sense of smell. i’m not entirely sure what happened to it, nor do i know when it happened. i just remember my mom telling me that she didn’t taste much because she couldn’t smell much.  what a tragedy! she was an excellent cook, too. i’m not sure how that all worked out. of course, being the mother of nine children, i’m sure there were a fair amount of smells in that household that would peel wallpaper, especially as the teen years descended and stayed around for a decade and a half.

i’m not sure what prompted this post. i just am glad i have five senses. i appreciate the workmanship of my body. thanks, lord.

and then there was one.

My sister and her cellist married on Saturday and it was wonderful! I had/have to keep reminding myself that it was/is all about what the two of them wanted and not about my choices. There are things I would have done differently, but it wasn’t my wedding day. It was all about her. She was a stunningly beautiful bride. Most importantly, she and Clarence had the day they wanted to have. They were surrounded by their friends and loved ones and I hope they felt supported and loved. At one point, all of my Mom’s sisters said they were coming, but in the end, it was just my Aunt Rose, now the matriarch of the family and my Uncle Keith, my Mom’s youngest brother who attended. No one from my Dad’s side of the family came.
Except my half sister and her two daughters, Older and Younger.

Older  is now 13 and is tall and beautiful. I can’t believe how adult she looks…but there was little doubt she is still a child inside. She was a poorly behaved young child and she’s a poorly behaved teenager. Younger, though cute as a button, is the same. She is a beautiful little girl, but is not well behaved in the least. Half-Sis is just not a great parent. I know that sounds harsh and judgmental, and I suppose it is. She doesn’t insist that her children respect others or each other. Nor does she insist that they mind her. That creates situations where the children are exceedingly unpleasant to be around. There’s the expectation that they are lovable in their current state just because they are family, and to some degree, that is true I suppose.  There’s also the reality that they are great for folks who love kids at any cost and overlook those things because they are 13 and 4 and what’s the big deal and they can’t help it and kids need boundaries and it’s the parents’ job to bring up their children well. Again, all true.
I’m just not a kid person.

*sigh*

The wedding and rehearsal were a lot of fun. I wanted to take as much pressure off of Sister as I could and so that meant a lot of running around and making sure that she had this or that. It was  my pleasure to do those things that I could to help. I did, however, spend a fortune doing so and I also ran around like a crazy person. I slept almost all day on Sunday, getting up only to have dinner with my friend HDB and her hubby and daughter and the family they stayed with while they were in town. I haven’t been a good friend to HDB and I have missed her like crazy. When I talk with her on the phone, I have so many flashbacks to the day I called to tell her about my Mom. Her sweet voice went from happy to hear from me to  horrified and crying in a matter of moments. I don’t know why that has stayed with me in such a strong way, but it has. I missed her entire pregnancy in 2006, the building of their new house, and the first year of her sweet daughter’s life. I don’t want to do that anymore. She is a great friend and we have so many memories together. I need her in my life and I have pledged to do better.

A friend commented on his xanga that he had talked more over the break that he was accustomed to doing and I can fully identify. When I finally rolled off of the couch on Sunday evening, my voice was hoarse and my throat sore from overuse during the preceding days. It was good to sleep in my own bed last night. It will be even better to sleep in it tonight, because I’ll be in it for more than the six hours I was in bed last night.

She’s married. I’m so proud of her. I’m worried for her. I’m scared for her. I love her.

moolah

I am positively hemorrhaging money. That. Has. To. Stop.

I am going crazy, I fear.

I miss my Mom.

hello?

I’ve got company. This is interesting.

I think too much when I drive. 3…2…1…

I am happy to say that I’m pretty much devoid of animosity over slim shady. It is strange to feel (almost) nothing. I don’t love him. I don’t hate him. Just memories. Lots of sad…but they no longer make me sad. Well, not like they used to. But, to be fair, there was some great friendship there too. It just stands in such stark contrast to the rest it seems like a completely different relationship. And I suppose it pretty much was. I’m nervous about being here. I have a question for you.

[not such a]silent night.

darcie does not like thunder. she didn’t sleep well last night, and consequently, neither did i.

my friend the dietitian has set me up with a vet she knows…not an animal doctor,  mind you. a veteran. he seems like a nice guy, if a little eager. he’s a few years older than i and is tall. six and one-half feet. sheesh. i would feel pocket-sized next to him. that’s not a bad thing, though. it just is. he lives  in fayetteville where he’s going to school to complete a degree so he can be a biology teacher. he seems to have a good head on his shoulders and all, and oh, one more thing. he’s freshly divorced. and a father of two. he married while serving in germany and earlier this year, his spouse came home and told him she was in love with someone else. and that was it. he has custody and is the primary caretaker of his two daughters, ages 8 and 5. he hasn’t even been divorced a year. that kind of freaks me out. that, and the fact that he comes with a family. am i ready for that?  most definitely not.

here’s what else is going on in my head: i don’t feel anything for this guy. when he calls (and he’s called twice, in two days) i’m  not irritated, nor am i thrilled. i know that the butterflies aren’t an indicator of anything. i had nothing but butterflies when i was being wooed by slim shady and that didn’t prove to be good or a harbinger of happiness. i didn’t initially have them for The Guy, but i have them now from time to time. with him, i don’t feel anything.  just nothing.

last night as i was tossing and turning, i was thinking about being with this new guy, Army Veteran, and it was so strange. in my dream, i felt very aware that i was playing house and that i would go back to my normal life at any time. i suppose that’s the nature of dreaming.

i am also almost positive that i dreamt of slim shady last night. really, sanders? what’s that about? it makes me mad that he continues to show up. go away. just go away. aack!  last night i also dreamt that i’d somehow missed the hoho auditions for next fall and some of the students who participated last year auditioned again and were again selected. i wasn’t happy. at all. one of the students delayed her graduation a year so she could participate again. yikes. the two that i wouldn’t mind working with again are not going to try out, and the others, well, i’m not ready to work with them again. if ever. and that’s for reals. i’m glad that was just a dream. very.

i’ve managed to find myself a headache. i want it to go away. now!

sigh.

disclaimer: i use the space here to vent and to work things out of my system. i often (but not always) feel better about something once i’ve written it down. sometimes seeing the words in black and white makes the situation less scary. sometimes i have greater perspective. anyway, i realize there’s not a lot of happy-ness here. but that’s not what this blog is about.

in a conversation i had with my sister the other day, i learned that there’s definite trouble afoot in my dad’s new marriage. apparently his new bride spends quite a lot of energy talking about the things she’s left behind to be in houston with him. she complains that she doesn’t like to be home all day…but she’s steadfastly refused to get involved in what he does. she knew about his ministry when they met. she knew this is what he did/does every single day. at any rate, she is making a lot of sounds like a newlywed who’s having second thoughts. there are other issues that jen mentioned and i can’t even bring myself to write about them. it’s not good. i’m sure that her sons have a completely different feeling about this relationship and my dad seems like the bear–i realize there are two sides to every story, especially in a relationship/marriage. i absolutely acknowledge that my dad can be a pill and that i have very little first hand knowledge of her beginning to turn away from him.

jen also said that on saturday evening she was talking with my dad while watching a dvd of some choir something or another and he burst into tears. he said that he’s been thinking about mom a lot lately and he really misses her. i know he does. i can also imagine that him being married to someone else makes the differences between my mom and his new wife very visible. i know that my mom wasn’t perfect. i know that. she wasn’t a perfect wife or mom or daughter, but she was remarkable and she was mine. i love her and he does too. i wonder if he doesn’t know what to do with his grief now that he’s married to someone else. i think he thought that getting married would make things okay again. of course it didn’t. it may have solved one problem but it created a whole host of others. i am so sad that he’s hurting. i hate that so much. today is his birthday and she’s gone. she went to north carolina last week because a cousin of hers died. she left on thursday, the funeral was saturday and she won’t be home until tomorrow. why would she choose to miss his birthday?

i had a dream that my dad died the other night.
right before my mom died, i can recall having a dream about  her dying. did i make it happen? by dreaming about my dad dying, did i hasten his death? intellectually, i know that doesn’t make any sense. but lots of things don’t make sense.
i can’t even bear the thought.

oh my goodness, it’s too awful to even comprehend.

friday night venting

• don’t tell me you’re sorry if you don’t mean it.
• vanity is ugly. so is conceit.

come off of it.

it’s done.
i’m done.