Moving on

Got a lot on my mind tonight. I thought this time--right before the move--would be when I'd fall off the writing wagon. I surprise myself because I'm not sure who I thought I was. Anything I can use to procrastinate is fair game. With writing, I can even feel like not tackling another house project is justified.

In the 'why I am lame' department, what seemed like a good idea a month ago when I was probably in the same state of mind about future me as I was when I thought I wouldn't be writing here as much, I invited a bunch of people to my house for a 'fire sale.' It was an opportunity to get rid of wine and other stuff that wouldn't be packed and to visit with folks all at once instead of going to a dozen coffees and lunches between now and when I leave. This was/is a big deal because I don't have parties. I don't ever invite people over. I live in the boonies and I'm positive my company won't be worth the trip. But in the spirit of seizing the opportunity this move will afford me to redefine myself and get more outside of my comfort zone, I thought, 'yay! i'm going to throw a party!' and i'm not going to freak out that no one will have fun-i'll make it worth their while by giving away my possessions! YES! It's foolproof!'

So tomorrow, I think I'm going to cancel the fire sale. Several people have already given me the downcast eyes of 'I've got something I'd rather go to,' and the people who are perhaps planning to come I fear are sure to regret the trip. Okay, maybe regret is a strong word. I don't think they'll be giving each other high fives and talking about it Monday morning like everyone else really missed out. Plus I've got shit loads to do and my house is a disaster. I recognize that fear (and a dash of laziness) are the primary drivers on my reluctance to follow through. I can go to a "party" 40 minutes away where I know only one other person and likely would not have come if he hadn't made it clear that is was important to him (retrospect thinks it might have been intoxication driving the insistence that I come). But I can't ask that of other people. Because I don't want to give them an opportunity to chose something else. I've been in this house for 6 years and have had people over three times. Only one of those was an actual party, i.e., more than two people. I've actually uninvited people to my house. I have no idea why I have any friends at all.

My mother called tonight and they want to take me to dinner on the day of the fire sale. I don't really want to go to dinner and I know that is really bratty but since we are going to celebrate my birthday, I'd rather just hang out at home and watch something funny together. I don't have anywhere I'm dying to eat at on someone else's dime, and for some reason, it just doesn't feel special. It feels obligatory. Again, bratty. I know. I'm a total turd. My sick mother wants to take me to dinner and I'm stiff-arming her. I can give her a kidney but I can't humor her before I leave the state with a family meal at Outback.

I'm going to make a prediction. Saturday I will feel like shit for canceling the fire sale. I will also feel bad because I won't tell my mom because I'm not going to want to go to dinner either. Sunday I will realize I could have done both and will tack another notch on the bedpost of regret as I will have disappointed everybody, including myself. But I will get a lot of work done so that it won't all be for naught. Or I won't and will have posted prolifically about what I'm not doing.

Private Conversation

It's been almost a year since I started 'blogging.' Not discounting anyone who has kindly commented (TM, you are the best), it has largely been a private conversation and kind of a lonely one. I assume when there is a lack of comment, there is a lack of impact, a lack of resonance, a lack of readership. I realize that it could be all of the above, but if it isn't, know that I want to hear from you. If it is, I'll get the message eventually, be patient with me. There's only five of you so I do recognize that lack of anonymity is an issue--I'm thinking about how to spread the word to spread the wealth.

I've been visiting some of blogger's 'blogs of note.' Every single blogger is ridiculously pleased to be featured, to have people comment, even argue with them. Blogging is an invitation to a conversation, to a community that can be built around that conversation. It means so much to have someone comment on your site, especially if you don't know them. It is just so validating. I need an outlet, I want to play with words, and I want a reaction. I want to create something that people want to read. Working through this frustration, what feedburner (who provides stats on visits to my sites) calls "0 reach", I hope will make me better at something I love to do.

We'll see.

And that's how the fight started

It is a beautiful fall-like night in August and before going out to walk the dog, it occurs to me that it is cool enough for a light jacket. I open my closet door, knowing just the jacket I'm going to grab. It even goes with what I'm wearing.

It isn't there.

It isn't on the floor where I thought it might have been after perhaps slipping off the hangar.

It's not anywhere.

I want to be wrong about it but I'm pretty sure it is somewhere, ripped, defiled, and reeking of Febreeze in the floor of my sister's room, car, or bathroom. It's not the first time. She's so bad about taking my clothes and shoes that I actually set aside shoes and clothes for her to wear when it just has to be something of mine. And she doesn't just borrow, she appropriates. And then she destroys. Couple that with the pitiful dying plant on my front porch that she walked past every day and didn't water, the clean bedsheets that she kicked on the floor, and the inexplicable presence of a macaroni cheese shell on the handle of one of my "clean" pots, and well, I understand how siblings end up on Dr. Phil.

Ugly Models

So, average is ugly now. The way this piece is cast is amusing. The women are pretty, the men are characters. It's not even remotely about ugly but bravo to the folks willing to be featured as such.

http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/26037035/?pg=1>1=43001#TDY_UglyModels

Ninjas...

Apparently have no sense of humor so I don't think it's going to work out. Apparently, many non-ninjas suffer from an impaired sense of humor or tolerance as well.

Guess what I found

*SIGH* Heavier *SIGH*. So, I was born with a weird pigment thing (that's right, that's what the doctors call it--look it up). My left side until about chest level is a mix of light brown and brown, kind of like someone didn't stir all the colors together completely. The hair on the light brown parts are red or almost blond, the hair on the brown parts is brown. Well, the red hair is starting to turn white. And I discovered one of those white hairs on my eyebrow this weekend. I'm not even 35 years old and I had a flash of me as the professor from Back to the Future with his crazy white eyebrows. I have got to get married soon. My body is going to hell in a handbasket. I told my mother who offered me no comfort when I wondered aloud what do do about white arm hair when and if it happens. I'm going to look like a freaking half Yetti. The upside is that I may have a promising second career in a traveling circus. I'd probably meet a dashing carny too...I do like work that involves travel and I love animals. Hmmm.

Song of the moment; Anyway

Bless the day this restoration is complete
Dirty, dusty, something must be underneath
So I scrape and I scuff
Though it's never quite enough
I am starting to see me finally

A gallery of paintings new and paintings old
Guess its no suprise that I'm no Michaelangelo
Every layer of mine
Hides a lovely design
It might take a little patience
It might take a little time

But you called me beautiful
When you saw my shame
And you palced me on the wall
Anyway

You who have begun this work will someday see
A portrait of the holiness you meant for me
So I polish and shine till it's easier to find
Even an outline of mine

But you called me beautiful
When you saw my shame
And you placed me on the wall
Anyway

from: http://www.christianlyricsonline.com/artists/nichole-nordeman/anyway.html