One Legged Rooster

And so the summer sprints
on
winged feet...

Holy cats has it been a busy summer - and more and more and more to come.

I've not been "jumping out of perfectly good airplanes" - though I have seen a few of them, nor have I been throwing myself off cliffs into ocean waves - though I would love to, nor have I been hopping on luge run bicycles - seriously ... I can't imagine ever wanting to do that.

Over the past month or so ("so" being a lovely nebulous term, which in this case means "longer than I care to admit, but not quite so long as my last hiatus") I have (in reverse order, because honestly it's the easiest for me):

• set up camp in a deluge, walked along the rainy shore of Lake Huron (rock hunting) and witnessed one of the most interesting Perseid showers ever
• revisited the Felt Mansion (Saugatuck) which no longer touts itself as a "notorious haunt" [according to the docent there, they are opting to "get away from that image, in favor of more elegant affairs" (yeah, I was kinda pissed about that)].  While I was bummed to hear that they're dissing their haunted past, it's nice to see the amazing changes they've effected on the house and the grounds, and I am happy for them that they've secured the lease to renovate the carriage house as well.
• attended my first, but certainly not my last air show.  I got to climb up on (and was offered "into") an AMAZING replica of a WWII Nazi tank.  The young boys who invited me up were amazing and utterly charming! Watching the Mustangs fly in formation was thrilling.  And seeing "my" ultra-shiny F-86 fighter jet in action was breathtaking.
• Visited Lake Michigan to bounce the waves and deepen my tan!
• blew a giant glass bubble, and made a really cool torch-work bead.  It was a Groupon deal - and I'm so glad, not only that I bought it, but that I was offered (and accepted) a way to actually attend it.  It was a great feeling to once again be making something with my hands... and to have that something to offer as a gift to my Foo.  I must never allow myself to forget the thrill of creating things with my own hands.
• rearranged my bedroom in a new and interesting way that I really like.
• set aside a bazillion things for donation.
• attended a number of small "family and friend" birthday and graduation parties for folks I really love.
• traveled to Maine with a friend to help a friend move around a couple of now-beautiful gardens.
• and have seen a number of really good movies at the Drive-In.  This is a treat for both my entertainment-minded self, and for my personal nostalgia-fix, as some of my best childhood summer memories are centered on Saturday nights at the drive-in.

I'm sure I've forgotten to add a few wonderful events to this list... but only to the list.  The memories of this summer are already amazing and wonderful, and I'm looking so very forward to the ones left to be made!

if you love me

please don't go doing something stupid and getting yourself hurt on a bad work day (or at the end of a bad work week).

it - 

well -

it just won't go well for you.

an example - not from real life:

Say you happen to see this really cool looking water-slide thingy with a bike perched at the top.

it's steep

it's yellow

and you think to yourself, "this steep yellow waterslidey things look like a great way to use a bicycle to break myself into pieces."

That's fine

Seriously.  Even on a bad work day, I can support that.

BUT

IF you should happen to DO it... mount the bike, attempt the slide, and fall off or over or some other such and break yourself to pieces...

When the hospital, or the police, or your loved ones who COULD be convinced to come to the hospital and feel bad for you and shit happen to call me and tell me about it, it will go down like this:

Nif:     Hello?

Gullible/Unfortunate sucker who's looking after you:    Is this Jennifer?  Jennifer Smith?

N:     Who's asking?

GUSWLAY:      Um, this is some poor unfortunate gullible sucker who's stuck looking after this moron you know who threw him/herself off a bicycle on a bright yellow waterslidey looking thing because they thought it would be fun. 

N:      yes, I'm Jennifer, Jennifer Smith.

GUSWLAY:      Um, your moron friend has been hurt pretty badly and is in the hospital.

N:      Oh, wow, can you do me a favor?  Can you tell the moron to go fuck him/her self?

And sure, I might even feel bad about it afterward, 

but really?  

on a bad work day?

you should know better.

Somnasstastic

I've been sleeping for crap lately.

It's not that I'm not getting enough of it - - my body has been mandating the "enough" (against my will, I might add) - - but that it sucks, quality wise.

I've fallen asleep (watching REALLY BAD movies) on the couch at stupid o'clock in the morning the past two nights... semi-sideways and cramped around and under the cats. I've been up - not feeling sleepy - for a bazillion hours, and just when my brain feels all mush (about 45 minutes after my body has decided to boycott me) I blink for too long, and the next thing I know I'm waking up wrapped under and around piles of fur and rumpled plush throws. Yes, throws, I have to use two to feel warm enough. I feel like a pretzel. Did yesterday too. That's just bull-shit and has to stop. 

This recent sleeping is nothing like what happens when I'm sprawled out under the cozy-hug weight of blanket, throw, and comforter in my super comfy (second most comfortable bed in Christendom) bed upstairs. Up there, in my choose-your-number heaven, I sleep the sleep of angels. And I sleep like the dead. And I don't wake up - regardless of how many alarms I have set.  Seriously I've set (and slept/snoozed through) up to 7 different alarms. 

Part of the dozing on the couch has been an experiment, wondering if I would actually sleep my "normal" 4.5 hours before waking up feeling a little less than refreshed, but bright enough to move on through the day. Yes.  Fine. I'll admit it - I was going to blame the coma-like repose of late on the insane comfort of my dreamy bed.  But that's not it. In both cases of sofa-snoozing, I was out a minimum of 6 hours. Completely able to rouse myself (with or without alarm) at the pre-arranged time for waking. I'm hopeless.

I think it's because recently I had a dream in which my subconscious led me to believe that I was using the toilet and I very nearly peed the bed. I am grateful to all the powers and dominions who watch over me that I had some "performance anxiety" in the dream, and actually realised, before I soiled my own dream bead, that I was dreaming.  The groggy sprint to the bathroom, dodging my own clutter along the way, had to be nothing short of boy-funny to the nth degree. Almost enough to make me wish I had closed-circuit monitoring, just so I could laugh at myself once I was awake long enough for my brain to function.

That's another thing about this recent bout of somnia - my brain is taking FOREVER to get up and running.  Normally, (if there is such a thing as "normally") I can usually hit the ground running in the morning. Not that I LIKE to function that way, but I can. I kinda have to. I'm a mom, and I work.  But lately, I've been slow to move, and when I finally do, I've been forgetting things. Not little things like "Do I have earrings in?" or "Do my socks match?" but things like brushing my hair. Or eating. So far, I've managed to leave the house pretty much fully dressed, but only just barely.

Anyway, yeah, because of that dream, I think I've been sleeping lighter.  I don't remember ANY of my dreams from the past few nights (not a common occurrence for me) and I know I've been waking up a few times through the night.  

Pleh.  It sucks.  

Tonight Foo is home with me again. Maybe that will make a difference. Maybe with a little off-spring magic in the house I'll be able to drift gently, sweetly, back into the swing of grabbing a few hours of rest and waking refreshed and bright-eyed with the rising sun.

Wish me luck...

Busyness

Will Smith had Happyness.
I can have busyness.
hush.

I've been looking over my summer schedule. Phew.
Lots going on, and lots I still want to figure out how to work in.
I think this is the first time in a number of years that my summer has been as busy as my autumn tends to be. I'm not complaining.
If I had my way, I'd fill up very nearly every single weekend (and half the weeks) with fun activities and interesting locations. Life is for living.

You know who I admire? I admire the blogging folks who have real structure in their posts. Like with an idea, a beginning, a middle, something interesting, and a proper ending. Those people. They're the ones I admire.

Know who else?
The people who can choose EE-ther or EYE-ther when they say "either" and stick with it. I have no consistency in the pronunciation - - even with my"in my head" voice.
So yeah, I admire them too.
(Neither, by the way, is always Neye-ther - unless I'm saying "Me neither" in which case it's always Nee-ther, because I like the internal rhyme. But I'm pretty much clear on that one.)

So busy. Yeah.
And a little scatter- brained.
And - clearly - (?) - Clam-happy about all of it.

Private Red

I made a comment today about how there is something about red lipstick that just makes me feel good on a crap day. It's so true.

There is something almost magical about it to me. The aesthetic of red lipstick - - the sultriness of it - - it just makes me feel better. Every time.

I kinda don't know if it has something to do with the fact that when I REMEMBER that red lipstick makes me feel better is when I'm in a frame of mind for red lipstick making me feel better, or if it's just a universal law, that I sometimes forget.

I get that way.

Forgetsome of magic... that is. I'm not sure if I get the way that red lipstick can't fix or not. I haven't tried.

I need a lipstick coach. Someone to tell me, when I'm being all shit, "hey, Niffy, put on some red lipstick. You'll feel better."

I suspect if I had one, I'd either put on the lipstick, or pop them one in the snout.

And then we'd know.

kinder and cords

Two thoughts - - neither of them very fleshed out, but on my mind.

They're on my mind in an attempt to NOT be thinking too much about work - which is killing me with short notice, urgency, and a healthy dose of "what in the HECK made you think THAT?"

Eggs
I scored Kinder eggs for the basketing process.
I wouldn't have done it - had no intention of doing it - had I not had the following conversation yesterday afternoon:

M: So, Foo, what candy are you MOST looking forward to eating from your Easter basket?
F: Kinder egg.
M: Kinder egg? Really?
F: Yep.

Internal me: Oh Fuck. I don't HAVE kinder eggs.

Rock-star international co-worker (lives in Canada works in U.S.) brought me some this morning... and I'm feeling AWESOME!


Less Awesome
iPhone cord does not charge iPad
or USB connector on front of office computer does not charge iPad
or User Error causes iPad to display "Not Charging" (which should be followed by a stickey outey tongue emoticon)
No. I don't NEED my iPad today... but it would have been nice.
It's the only way I can feel like I can draw for crap when it comes to playing Draw Something.

See...

dis-affected

I think I may suffer (mildly) from Seasonal Affective Disorder

Grey days sap my energy.

I find myself thinking how it might be nice to be one of those "tea and cozy" people with a good book and a warm blanket. The people from the movies and the commercials. The people that I've read about. You know the people... I don't need to go on.

I like that grey weather has this romantic notion of tea and cozy, and even that I'd like to be ones of those people, but it doesn't really work for me.

I guess it's a lot like a lot of romantic cliches, it's pleasant to think about, and easy to imagine that someone must be doing it, but it doesn't really happen all that much in "real life."

so...

I usually end up doing at least one "something" on a grey day - - something up and about, being a part of the world. Perhaps because I'm just too willful to give in and surrender to the grey, or perhaps because I keep believing that if I just get up and DO something often enough, eventually the grey won't be able to seep into my mood, soul, spirit, whatever, and I'll be cured.

I've been doing this for YEARS, and still, more often than not I'm only about half as bright and bumblesome when the weather is dismal.

I suppose I could go make tea and grab a book. I suppose that like so many romantic cliches I could "make it happen for ME" if only I fought the inertia a little and got up and did something about it.

But I'm not.

I'm not making tea and grabbing a blankie and book.
I'm not giving in to romance and cozying.

Instead, I'm gearing up to head out and see if I can't find something to do that will kindle some sense of inner sunshine.

Call me a clicheoclast.

I'm not satisfied with "what works in romantic notions."
Not me.

I'm making my own Romance.

Rhapsody

no.
not the music thing.

a sleep-resistent night last night; i was overcome by the beauty of night. it was cold but not bitter, dazzled with brilliant stars in a deep black sky, quiet except for the small motion of night-things, and still - so very still - - but deeply stirred in my soul.

after i came in from the outside, echoes and cadence and creaking floor boards and the soft soft bed waltzed me into a "write the poetry" frame of mind, and i was up a bit longer crafting a draft of a thought of a dream of a someday maybe poem.

- - it's not the one i've been working on for weeks... that one is my taciturn piece and STILL will only speak when it has something important to SAY.

i am happy to have irons in the fire, poetically speaking. it's nice to be able to bumble about with a few, or even several, different thought-works at any given time on any given day in any given mood.

this is happening because i'm spending more time on what i write now. even when i think that i'm getting complete thoughts and phrases, i want to hold on to them, roll them over in my hands for a bit - - feeling all the edges for rough spots, holding them to the light to make sure that they not only shine but SPARKLE (but only where they should sparkle... sparkling where one should shine, or maybe even glow is as distracting as a dull spot in the middle of a rhapsody), and waiting for that weepy/giddy/giggling/jaw-dropped/can't-breathe self to say:

"Oh My God, did that REALLY just come out of my OWN mind? It can't possibly have, I don't have that kind of skill... but look there it is and it's in my book in my own writing so I must have. How Wonderful!"

then i know it's ready to move over to the next page where the finished thoughts live. that's where it waits to be partnered with the other good thoughts, and arranged and rearranged
(and then revised again)
before they're all finally lined up in perfect formation for a final read, as a full poem
at which point i usually tear it down and start editing all over again.

but last night - -
last night was beautiful
and so was this morning
and i have a lot of new thoughts in my little book of pencil scrawls and i'm happy

Ejector Seat

On Monday night (or Tuesday morning) 'round about midnight, the aliens took over my guts.
I spent all day Tuesday feeling very much like a battleground... a sloggy, swampy battleground.
Yesterday was better... until later.
So this morning, at 4, the baby was up and hugging the toilet.
It's been a craptastic time for tummies Chez-Nif.
Sigh.

In other news:

Had a great afternoon in the park yesterday. Lots of walking and laughing and time away from the normal hum-drum. We talked about science (-ivores) and used our imaginations (The Great Northern Gator: A Herbivore) and expressed our impatience over the onset of spring (wishing the redbuds into bloom). We had a picnic and quality time. It's so freakin' awesome being a mom.

Found a fun restaurant in Belleville (Bayou Grill) that has some pretty good food (ultra tender ribs) and really fun staff. Had a nice dinner.

And then the puke. And whatnot.
Her belly is rebelling again.
Nif out...

Glass House

Today's thought is not an easy one for me... it borders on political, and that's a tough pill for me to swallow.
I suspect I'm likely to offend a few folks with it, as well. It's not my intent...

Here's the thing.
It's called Judge not...
It's called love your neighbor...
It's called, do unto others...

I have no respect for the comments of the radical right wing (or the radical left wing, or the radical anyone for that matter)... and in many cases, I not only disagree with what they say and do, but much of it sickens me.

A school principle telling her gay students that they're going to hell...
A politician saying that unmarried parenthood fosters child abuse...
A FLOCK of politicians making long strides backward in terms of womens' rights.

The whole lot of it makes me want to puke, and scream, and raise my fist in the air and call down the lightning...

And then I have to stop.

Because the minute I want to call down the powers of heaven, or the universe, or God, or whatever else it is that's going to smite them with thousands of volts of "righteous fury," I've crossed the line and become just as bad as I think they are.

If they want to be what *I* consider sick, or wrong, or cruel, or stupid, or... - fine. That's their gig. They have as much right to it as people have to be gay, or women, or followers of Islam, or....

Do I want them running my country? No. I vote against them.
Do I want them running my schools? No. I appeal to the Superintendent.
Do I want them in my life in any way? No... not at all...
But as much as they are in my life, I follow the channels to remove them from it.
Is it time for new rules? Sure... maybe... I don't know.

But I'm not judging people.
I live in a glass house.

Back in the Saddle

It's been more than two years since I've thought I had anything worth writing.

A lot has changed in my life:

I lost my job.

This is nothing like losing ones keys. While it's not quite as bad as losing ones mind (I'm guessing) it felt a lot like it. While I never thought (and still don't believe) I identified myself with my job, I definitely identified myself with "working." There were a lot of times during that 10 month period (I'm back to work - tho in a completely different (if not new) capacity) that I thought "who the fuck AM I if I'm not working?" and "how do I identify my worth, now that it's not monetized for me?" and "OOOhhhhh - I can drive my ass all over the state - and COUNTRY - now that I'm not tied to a desk all freakin' day!!!" But that last bit is a whole different take on it, and I don't really want to get into that right now. The thing is - - I realised, very profoundly, that I'm very much the kind of person who needs an occupation. I managed a while just taking my (generous) severance package and whiling away time with Foo.

Then I filed for unemployment, and all of a sudden, things changed. A lot. I felt useless and worthless. So I grabbed a part time gig where I learned a lot about what I don't really want to do - no matter HOW good it smells in the workplace (it was a local florist; they needed some marketing help). And even if I wasn't using my skills and talents to their potential, it felt INCREDIBLY GOOD to be contributing again.

Yep. I'm a worker bee.

I'm back at work now - temping for my old company - and doing stuff that most people just flat-out don't understand, and at which I happen to be VERY good. I feel the power of pulling in my own income again. I feel the thrill of accomplisment - from time to time - with big projects and little ideas. It's a wonderful thing.



My divorce is final.

There's not a lot I'm going to say about this. Blog or otherwise it's private business.

It is - however - a major change in my life and it affects the person I am and the way I live, so it bears mentioning.

The two biggest external changes are the amount of time I get to spend with Foo and the amount of $ in my bank account. Both qualify for the "not enough" category. But I'm working through each of them in my own way, and it will all work out. I'm committed.



My Foo is in 2nd grade.

OMG I can't believe I've slipped for so long that the last round of posts were about her getting ready for Kindergarten. Did I mention that I so suck?

Anywho - - she's smart as a fucking whip. It makes me proud and drives me nuts. Yep - I'm a typical parent. She's doing great. She's awesome. She's abjectly miserable with homework. She doesn't like to take the time to write neatly and most of what she writes is significantly more beautiful contextually than it is legible. Math is her favorite subject (ROCKS!!!!) and she's honing her skills at drawing cats. She likes cats. So sue me.

This is a big year for her, tho, because of a couple of things that don't exactly relate to classwork.

She's embarked on the world of girl-scouting. She's a brownie. She likes the social time after school every other monday. She makes some funky fun craft stuff. She laughs with her friends. She sucks at selling cookies. I imagine she'll suck even worse at delivering them. But she likes it, and that's enough for me.

AND

She's getting ready to make her First Communion. She's in a Catholic school (at least through the end of the year) and it's a 2nd grade EVENT. We have her dress - - she loves it... and truth be told, I do to. It's pretty. We have her gloves. We have her veil (tho I might be altering the bejeesus out of it). We have her tights. We do NOT have her shoes... but that's ok. The white patent leather shoes will be coming out for Easter soon (or are they already? I have foregone actually shopping at Target for the past couple months (see above comment about $) and have no idea what's in the markets these days) and we'll get her feet covered. (te he - - see what I did there???)

Honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about this. I've been a lapsed Catholic for a long time now... or maybe a "buffet Catholic" ??? I like some traditions. I like some songs. I don't like dogma. I don't like waking up on Sunday for Church, IN LARGE part because I don't like a lot of the messages that fill the Sunday Mass. I know that she's pretty deeply steeped in the messages she's hearing... and while I don't like all of them, I do like the relationship she's building with her Maker. Hers is not a lot like mine - - not at this point - - but that's exactly as it should be. But the whole Communion thing. Eh... it's a thing. I'll support it because I love her and it's important to her. I may even wait until after she's done it before I explain that she's just taken her first indelible step over the line of Taboo and has become a cannibal.

Next year we're probably switching to homeschooling. It will be a big step, but one that I think she'll benefit from. Not sure how I'm going to sell my mom on it... I have a lot of research to do, and share... but the truth of the matter is that I don't really like the programming she's receiving right now, and I'm ready to flip the switch.



I've been writing again.

Most of what I've pulled together has been poetry.

Ok - fucking all of anything I've done worth looking at is poetry. Fine. Whatever. Fuck you.
(I say it with love, you know that, right?)

But I'm writing. And you get to read some of it. Aren't you lucky?

I have NO IDEA how often I'm going to update... clearly we've seen what a miserable failure I am at keeping up with a "program". But I want to... and that's pretty damned important, I think.

so - -
yeah...

W A T C H T H I S S P A C E