full of moxie and viscosity

May I please repeat my pet peeve.
If you ask me a question about my life, how about listening to the answer before launching into your own story? Just an idea.

Go buy this CD today:
http://www.automato.net/
Andrew Raposo and Morgan Wiley's crazy CD (with some other guys on it, too, but who cares so much about them? the CD is seriously off the hook).

Did some writing today at the nanny job. I have had a couple really good ideas regarding the shape and tone of the novel recently. I need to buckle down and really get a hold of what it is I'm shooting for. I think it needs a) some fictionalization and b) some serious cuts. Serious Cuts. Huge pages hacked out. And then I need to do some writing about something other than the dudes. There was a lot more going on in that time of my life, though maybe it didn't feel that way.

In other news, I'm going to be in Los Angeles for Gabe's show on the 4th of June. Everyone should come out and see me there. I don't know how long I'll be in LA otherwise, before or after the show, but I'll be there for the show for sure sure sure. Call my cell phone that night if you want to meet up. www.gabrielmann.com for more details on the show.

A crazy revelation whilst talking to Jenny Cole about the future:

My husband will not have to necessarily fill all of the requirements I have currently decided are so important... he will fill our relationship the way it needs to be filled, but it is very unrealistic to think of him as the placeholder for all of the categories- for example: I cannot expect each of my friends to be cry shoulders, shopping buddies, sexperts, intellectual stimulators, philisophical mind benders, laugh factories, dancing queens, artistic understanders, AND live music show attenders. So why would I assume that my romantic partner could fill all of those categories as well? I need to stop thinking of categories and start realizing the beauty within the man (men) to whom I am exposed. Relationships are individual, breathing things. Not category fillers. All at once I feel watered and fed.

No jokes, here is what I did today:

Took a shower
Cleaned out my car (whoa, whoa, I know)
Organized and cleaned my room (triple whoa)
Took out all the garbages
Cleaned both bathrooms (lick and a promise clean)
Cleaned the kitchen
Picked up the boys' and Tim's rooms and the living room
Did all the dishes
Did two loads of laundry
Took Dacia to her car
Bought TP and contact supplies
Got my schedule from Starbucks
Paid all my bills and scheduled other payments
Balanced my checking account
Researched CPR certification classes
Redesigned my homepage and fixed broken links elsewhere
Caught up with Jenny Cole
Washed my car
Answered emails
Answered phone calls
Popped a freaking AWESOME zit (gross, I know, but it was AWESOME)
Vacuumed the house (and stairs)

And I still have two hours before I'm scheduled to go to the Douglasses! Holy crap.

The strangest dreams... I think that my dreams have taken on a new meaning, or a new purpose in my life. Either that or I'm just paying better (more?) attention to them. My recent dreams have included:
-- several re: being unable to care for the babies correctly. Leaving them unattended, dropping them, taking them in a car untethered.
-- two about lactating. I think a lot about wet nurses, how the hell do they work? I mean, I understand how, but if that were to happen to me, I'd be freaked out. AND... the last dream I had was pretty intense about it... I emptied both of my breasts of all of their milk. Bizarre! (side note: both of my current jobs include a lot of milk and liquid measurement and prep work. Interesting...)
-- lots of mother figures
-- lots of having sex with myself (not literally, but for example, one was me as a boy Gollum and then there was a girl Gollum... obviously they both represent me)
-- a lot of travel

I don't know what to think of all of them, but they definitely spark interesting thought processes.

One last thing: I really must harp once again on how much I abhor the nuclear fallout of relationships. Why is it that we must lose so much in the process of ending relationships? Mostly I'm talking about friendships- those peripheral friendships that have either become wildly awkward since the end of the connection with the mutual friend or have literally been severed because of the same. What a shame.

Ooops, one last last thing, I promise: is there a difference between guilt and shame? I'm unsure that there is.

What if this were my new homepage?


awesome.

Today is one of those days where I am in such appreciation of the smaller things. The CHiPs style sunglasses I got at Fred Meyer yesterday. A long, soapy bath to Azure Ray, Mum and Coldplay. Brooke Pedersen (she's not a smaller thing... I should have said a CALL from Brooke Pedersen. That was the small thing). Distance. Blossoms.

And also today, a sort of long-burning realization came to a pretty intense, smoky head. In all honesty, I don't even know how to express this. It is the one thing I have nothing but good feelings for, and always have... I can express an ounce of pain for fourteen pages, but the magnitude of this asset is so great that I can't even say it without dwarfing its importance in my life. I guess I have to, the curse of these earthly words will have to reign over this passage for a little while just so I can at least communicate this to the masses (curse the words! why are they never enough?)...

My family.
I have to say short phrases now, only because if I begin to write, I will never stop. We four people make more than any passage could define, but I am overwhelmed and frustrated, so I will just write what I can now...
love
honesty
security
faith
love
love
hope
trust
laughter
song
warmth
love
(LOVE IS SUCH A SMALL WORD. WHO ONLY GAVE IT FOUR LETTERS? IT DESERVES AN ENTIRE LANGUAGE.)

I love my family. (even now, I feel like crying because that is nowhere close to saying what I feel inside. curse these words for even existing. perhaps if the feeling stayed inside it would be more potent...)