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My passport arrived on Saturday morning, thank goodness! Everything else about the trip is gravy, now.

I am also thrilled by the fact that my library has Mango language lessons online, so I am learning some basic Italian, although I'm having a hard time actually memorizing anything. I'll have to listen to it constantly, I guess. Too bad I can't download it to iTunes, but I think I've found an audio recording I can check out from the library. From my living room. That I can burn to CD or put on my mobile to listen to it while I wander around. Sweet!

My only editing client has at least three documents for me in the next two weeks. That is happy-making. I need more clients like them.

My son is being rebellious, obstreperous, and so many other not-so-good adjectives that end in -ous. And plain old WTF?  So he's on short rations vis a vis Pokemon, screen time, and so help me, I'll ground him so he can't play with his friends across the street this week. It's going to suck, but he will stop yelling at us if he wants to see the back side of eighteen.
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I would like to find a classic modern, sectional sofa with chaise and loveseat. No more than 74" long. Whose loveseat folds out to become, along with the chaise, a convertable bed.

Why is that so hard to find? I have a small home. I have guests coming. I want to maximize the space we have. Harumph.
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I'm losing hope that I'm the kind of add that can be medicated to aid focus. I think I'm just FUBAR on this one.  The latest med, Strattera, makes me miserable.  I didn't even wait to ask my doc's permission before I just stopped taking it. UGH. Next, i guess.  But if I can't find a medication that helps manage the chaos of my thoughts, I am going to be useless in an office situation. USELESS.

I am trying to establish an independent contracting sort of lifestyle for myself. God knows I've been happier and calmer since I got canned.  So if you know anyone who needs a content/blog writer, web design or project management, internet online nonprofit communications messaging and strategy type person, let me know.

I've got the go-ahead on the Way Cool Website. not a lot of money but at least it's a really great portfolio piece.  I just have to find more work. And that's difficult. I don't know where to start--a common lament in my ADD panicked head.

I've been eating nothing but bread.  Have to stop that addiction or I'll weight 160 again. Need exercise. need peace. Need my life to make sense.

I think I've had three or four vertigo attacks since I landed in hospital.  Friday night my stomach was miserable, and continued to decline on Saturday.  By the time I got into the car with Delicious, I was seriously ill, and as I tried to focus on the highway it hit me: Vertigo. Couldn't track, everything was catching up with me a few seconds too late.  Misery.  Delicious, who had arrived in a crappy, cranky mood to pick me up, immediately put all his irritations aside when he realized how ill I was, and gently shepherded me (at my insistence, it doesn't do me any good to sit still for some reason, I just focus on the dizzy and the misery. At least walking around I can judge how bad it is and not panic) around Harris Teeter in search of good things for dinner.  Thank god I do carry my meds for vertigo with me, but what I'll do when they run out is beyond me. Dramamine and some sort of something or other I guess.  He gently tucked me in on his couch and we watched stupid TV while the marbles in my brain stopped spinning the wrong way round. The anti-nausea meds kicked in and I felt much better by the time dinner was ready, courtesy of Delicious.  But considering I'd suffered through the vertigo for 24 hours, I was just grateful it had ended. UGH!

Sunday, my mom took the kid to the park so Delicious and I had another wonderful couple of hours lounging in a coffee shop, reading the paper. Heaven.  The head of Peace Child was in town, so he came to my house, while Delicious and the kid were there, and I was so glad to have Delicious there. He's a very smart man, and he is worried about the scope of work PC-USA might do. It's overwhelming, and I can't do it on my own.  l need to be very honest with myself about Peace Child, and let that dream go if it's the right thing to do.

I need more work. I need to know where to find work. This is what I'm going to deal with as well as moving forward with the cool assed website.  And filling out job apps. And networking. And and and. Having vertigo attacks, seems about once a week.  Sleep would probably help.

Best moments of the weekend were on Sunday, after I got my head out of my ass and relaxed, remembering that Delicious isn't Serendipity, or Asshole.  I was tense and on edge while we put together an awesome skyscraper, but identified the tension as old ghosts and got over myself.  And Delicious read the kid another chapter of Harry Potter, and at one point I looked around at all the happy screaming to find my son dangling by his feet down the back of this 6' 1" man who has taught me what it means to be truly cared for.

When the kid went to bed, he said to Delicious, "I hope I get to see you very soon." 

Thank god. 
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I have just accepted a post as the DC Liberal Examiner on Examiner.com I figure, this being Washington DC and all, I could do worse than accept a writing position that deals with politics in the heart of Political Ground Zero.

I was also referred to Match dot com. Seems they actually pay people to rewrite profiles.  I'd do it just for shits and grins.

I'm finishing another small website and dammit, I think I got the really cool, 10K site.  I am happy. Even though most of that money isn't mine.  It's an amazing portfolio piece.

I really want to go back to school.
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 I just got a nibble. I just got a possibility. Please, by all that's happy and hopeful and good in this world, if you have a spare ounce of good karma, prayer, or other good stuff to throw my way, I'd be grateful.

I don't dare to hope. Please o please.

ETA: Phone interview on Wednesday!!!
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I'm dating a guy with two sons. I'm dating a man who will never be comfortable in the same room as his ex-wife. Too much anger and betrayal there. Probably on both sides. The boys are both quiet, and undemonstrative. Plus, they have a mother. They aren't shopping for a replacement. My son is in a more unusual situation -- his father mostly isn't around. In my son's pantheon, father is still that guy I married, and he's got a pretty immovable place on the mythology of dadness. Serendipity fills a different spot, a place I'm glad he can take, of a role model, a moral compass, a friend to horse around with, a person from whom he will learn. There is genuine affection on both sides of that equation. My son's just that kind of kid, and he's affectionate and outgoing and loud and crazy. Serendipity tells me his kids like me, and since they do talk to me and don't give me attitude, I'll take it as true. The younger son, J, cracked me up Saturday night when he came out of his bathroom in a towel, with a request. I was sitting in their father's room talking to my kid, and the hamper was right next to me. "Hey, would you put my underwear in the hamper?" he asked me. "Sure!" I laughed. "Fling it on over here!"

Their father's birthday is next weekend. Serendipity has mentioned that he might go skiing with the boys. I am going to assume that means we are not coming. It's a strange sensation. On the one hand, I want him to enjoy his birthday, and if that means taking off with his kids, that's really ok with me. Part of me wonders when do we have to permenantly smash the two groups together and behave as a family? I'm sad we won't be able to celebrate his birthday, and I'll still make a cake. We just will have to eat it later, or I'll make two, one for him to take home to his boys.

My kid is five. He's also a very kinetic five. Always touching something, moving, making noise. It's annoying, and we're working on it. I'm such a hypocrite, though. I pride myself on having raised my son in a tribe, but the fact is, there are levels of tribe. My girlfriends, and by extention, their spouses, are authority figures for my son. They are allowed to discipline him if he's out of line. But when Serendipity reigns my son in, I have a panic attack. It's because of who I am, not who he is or even about my son. It's about being the adult child of an alcoholic whose fragile world crumbled with every mistake, every harsh word. Life has to be perfect or it falls apart, but life is never perfect. I've come so far in dealing with that. But I sat in Serendipity's house with  small panic attack running amok in my chest. This is too hard. There might be criticism. He might think less of me or my son. I might be doing it wrong. Am I too indulgent? A million doubts running through my tharn brain because my kid can't sit up at the table. I'm too hard on myself. And this weekend I'm too tired to try to express what's going through my head, though I do tell Serendipity I'm having a panic attack because this is hard to do, this smashing together of families.

What I don't tell him is that I'm withdrawing. On the one hand, I love how happy my son is, how good the boys are together, how much easier my life is when we're all together.  But it's hard. And I wonder how we'll make it all work. I worry that there will always be this invisible line down the middle of our lives, not quite together. I worry that my kid is too annoying, and that Serendipity will decide he doesn't want to be a blended family. Unfortunately, work has taken so much out of me, I can't ask any of the questions swirling around my head. I can just duck and cover, hang on, and wait. Eventually I won't be in crisis mode and I'll be able to see more clearly. Used to be, I'd go into crisis mode and start jettisoning anything that was threatening, or difficult, or less than perfect. Now? I just ride it out, because I know it's just the messed up brain chemistry talking, and eventually I'll be myself again.

But it's hard to be patient, with myself, with my son, with the process of letting other people into our small life. It's damned hard.

clay

Jun. 21st, 2008 08:49 pm
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I got to attend a workshop with a master potter today.

I'm in heaven.

And I get to go back tomorrow.

DAMN IT.

Jul. 12th, 2007 03:10 pm
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Honestly. Some days, this dating thing makes me feel like the Goblin King: "Just love me. Fear me. Do as I say. And I will be your slave."

Is that too much to ask???

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