planes, trains, and automobiles (Part 5)

East Coast Trip (Part 5) - Philadelphia, etc.

Of course, after our beautiful day of driving, it rained the day we planned to walk around Philly. I'd visited before. With two of my college roommates, when one was in grad school in Philly. I'd seen the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, other historical buildings whose names I'd forgotten. It was cold. It was wet. But I didn't mind the rain. I usually don't. J asked me to be "photographer" for the day. I had the umbrella, the huge camera, and she knew that's what I'd do it anyway. We didn't have that much time. We had dinner plans with our friends. But we managed to see the first and second banks of the United States, Carpenter Hall, and City Tavern We stopped in the Library Ben Franklin insisted upon, where pages from Common Sense and Origin of the Species are on display. And of course we did the obligatory tours of the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall. The tour guides tried to instill in our haphazard group the importance of Independence Hall. But it wasn't the history lesson, it was standing in the same building. Standing in the same room, where a few guys with visionary dreams for how great our country could be signed a few pieces of paper, that made an impression. Again, even the second time around. After our brief tour through history, we headed back to B & K's house to head to dinner. Over sushi and wine we talked and talked. I miss B. Terribly. It's strange to have to fly across the country to have dinner with her. Then again, even after months, it's like I saw her yesterday. She's one of those friends that will always be. Time, distance, none of that really matters. And of course I love her husband. He's another one that sets the bar high for the guys I date. He insisted on leaving his rain coat for me to use to walk around on a rainy day. He only minimally rolled his eyes at us when we made him take a dozen pictures of us, until we were all three happy with one. I'm sad that B & K are so far away, but they'll be back in Colorado for holidays. So I know I'll see them soon. But that didn't diminish my sadness as we pulled away from their house on the way to the train station. ****** You can see larger versions of the images by clicking on them.

planes, trains, and automobiles (Part 4)

East Coast Trip (Part 4) - Pennsylvania

After leaving DC, J wanted to see Amish Country. Following her travel book's suggestion, we headed up to Lancaster. The historic district seemed a little sketchy. We wandered to the Central Market, where everything appeared to be closed, until we found a cute shop with a light on. We wandered in. The nice owner told us the shops are usually closed on Mondays. But she was open for a short while. After looking around and finding small gifts for my mom and sister, the owner suggested we head to the Lancaster Brewing Company for lunch. Over our beer sampler and good pub fare, we discussed the travel book's suggestions for where to go next. Then decided to go with the suggestions from our friends who live outside of Philadelphia, instead. Meandering on back roads, J got to see more buggies and horses than she'd ever imagined. We tried to shop, but the stores all closed early. We drove through Bird in Hand, which led us to Intercourse. Yes, the Village of Intercourse, that's it's name. The only thing open was a wine store, with tasting. Too bad for us. We couldn't browse through quaint Amish stores with quilts and jam, instead we had to taste delicious Pennsylvania wine. Like Virginia, Pennsylvania also cannot export it's wine. So, we decided to add to our "smuggling" stash for our friends. After our wine tasting and buying, we headed to our friends' house, who moved to PA from Denver a few months before. We had lots to catch up on that night over Philly cheese steaks and wine. ****** You can see larger versions of the images by clicking on them.

planes, trains, and automobiles (Part 3)

East Coast Trip (Part 3) - the Mall (Washington, D.C.)

After lunch we walked to the mall. This mall has many interesting things to buy, if you're looking for cheap FBI t-shirts, or a hotdog. But we weren't there to shop, so we walked past the vendors, past the White House and on toward the Washington monument. The last time I was in DC visiting T and her husband, the Washington monument had scaffolding surrounding it. This visit, the stark contrast between the monument's crisp stone façade and the clear blue sky was stunning. After beginning my annoyance of my friends by stopping too frequently to take pictures, we wandered to the World War II monument. It had not yet been constructed the last time I was here. We walked around the memorial, reading, observing, quietly discussing whether we thought the site lines of the mall were compromised by this new memorial. I thought it was extremely well done. The fountains in the center, with Atlantic and Pacific "theaters" on each side, surrounded by pillars bearing wreathes honoring each state and territory. Powerful, yet reverent at the same time. Walking along the reflection pool looking back at the Washington monument, I decided the site lines were not at all destroyed by the WWII Memorial, as some think, but rather enhanced. The fountains on either side of the Washington monument add interest, and don't detract from the line stretching from the Lincoln Memorial to the Capitol. On the far end of the reflection pool, we veered left and walked among the statues of the soldiers of the Korean Memorial. We silently read about the number killed and missing. Still. The reflections in the pool and along the wall lent themselves well to quiet contemplation. It seems as if your walking among those being honored. Towards the end of the mall I decided my ankle needed a rest, so we sat on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial for a while, talking and enjoying the beautiful weather. Then using my limping gait and cane as excuses we took the elevator up to see Mr. Lincoln. Even more stately than I remember, he sits peering out at all in front of him. We walked slowly along the Vietnam Memorial, pausing to look at the notes and messages left to honor some personally. I don't know why, but for some reason this memorial, more than others, always brings a tear to my eye. Perhaps it is because my dad could easily have been there. We continued our wandering toward the Capitol. By the time we get there, both J and T were slightly annoyed with me. Between my overall slowness because of my ankle and my stopping to take pictures, I lagged behind, causing them to stop. Many times. But being the great friends they are, they assured me they weren't annoyed. By this time, the sun was beginning to set and we were all tired, so we made our way towards Union Station. And headed towards T's place and dinner. After dinner, we relaxed and talked for a while. Beginning plans for our next get together. After breakfast the next morning with T, J and I headed to get our rental car. Our first stop was the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial. My favorite. And we had to stop (in my opinion) because J had never seen it. I love the quotes. I love the water. I love the statues. And the reflective space. Maybe it's the sound of the waterfalls, or the adorable statue of Fala (FDR's dog), or that the first time I visited, the water was completely frozen, and incredibly beautiful. Whatever it is, the FDR memorial makes me feel safe. Strolling through FDR's four terms, I feel proud of our nation's history, and certain that if we stand together, we can get through the tough times. We wanted to stop by the Jefferson Memorial, but the close-in parking was closed, and my swollen ankle wasn't quite up to the walk around the tidal pool. The view across the water would have to suffice for this trip. We eventually found our way to the highway, and headed north. ****** You can see larger versions of the images by clicking on them.

planes, trains, and automobiles (Part 2)

East Coast Trip (Part 2) - Georgetown (Washington, D.C.)

We slept well after our full day of leaf searching, wine drinking and tapas eating. The following day we got up early and hurried to the metro, stopping for coffee at a fantastic east coast establishment called Cosi. While sipping our coffee, we walked over and met our guide, dressed complete in top hat. He gave an introduction to what lie ahead, then we started the walk from the metro stop over to Georgetown, first crossing over Rock Creek, where we heard tales of boats and summer day boat rentals. Once we reached Georgetown, our guide pointed out buildings and architectural decorations of note. We heard about the history behind them. The history was interesting, although we noted a few discrepancies between what our top hat wearing guide was spinning and things we had read elsewhere. But the storytelling was entertaining, if not completely accurate. Seeing the history, is what I loved. Walking the streets, admiring the architecture, drinking in the bits of history lingering for us to see. I could imagine the horses and buggies, the trolley cars, people walking the uneven sidewalks, their extravagant parties. We walked past houses where famous people lived and live, past houses that servants would have called home, past the houses of the rich they served who lived up the hill. Tales of current and former inhabitants were told, ranging from the slaves that first came to the area because it was part of the Underground Railroad to John F Kennedy and Marilyn Monroe to John Kerry. T walked slowly with me and my cane. She pointed out various interesting things; I took (perhaps too many) pictures. We didn’t listen as well as we should have to the walking tour guide. I felt a bit like I was on a field trip in college. Only with a camera in tow. After the tour we wandered into the main business area in search of lunch. Past cute boutiques, past quaint restaurants. We settled on an Italian place that was also serving Sunday brunch. The food was delicious, some of the other patrons along with the service were atrocious. After lunch we continued our wanderings, heading toward the mall. ****** You can see larger versions of the images by clicking on them.

planes, trains, and automobiles (Part 1)

East Coast Trip (Part 1) - Shenandoah National Park (Washington, D.C.)

Leaves flew by the window of the train. Part of the reason for the trip had been to experience autumn’s vibrant palette. There hadn’t been much of a display until now. As we traveled along the tracks, the leaves couldn’t hold onto their limbs any longer. They danced around the train as we passed. There were trees everywhere, on hillsides and across harbors, fall’s colors reflecting in the water. I looked over; my traveling companion was asleep, missing the scenery. I was exhausted, too, but didn’t want to miss anything. It had been a great trip so far, tiring, but exhilarating at the same time. I thought back over our adventure. ****** I had flown into DC over a week before. Once off the plane, I hopped on the metro to meet one of my college roommates (T) at a bar in her neighborhood. She wasn’t there, yet. After finishing my first drink, I decided I should give her a call, when I realized I didn’t have a cell number for her. I called her husband. He was out of town, which was very unfortunate, because I could have used some brotherly advice. However, a girls’ weekend was just what I needed. He and I chatted a while, then I let him go so I could give his wife a call. He asked me to keep his wife out of trouble. I suggested the reverse might be necessary. We both laughed and then said goodbye. Just as I dialed the number written on the napkin, she walked through the door. We gave each other a big hug and settled into our bar seats. I’d seen both she and her husband in February. However, it’s always been too long; even when it seems no time has passed at all, as it always is with all good friends. That night we shared more stories and laughter, crab cakes and crab legs, over a glass of wine or two at J. Paul’s in Georgetown. Then home to relax and pet Joey, our cat, named after the bar that we drunkenly took her home from in college. We drove through Shenandoah National Park the next day, even hiked* part of the Appalachian Trail. T is my only friend that might actually understand my (perhaps unhealthy) fascination with photography, and didn’t hurry me too much as we drove through the just-beginning-to-change leaves. On the way back to the city we stopped at a couple of wineries. After J’s flight got in later that day, we all headed to Jaleo for tapas and sangria. I’d been there many years before, the first time T and I had a girls’ night in DC. I’d talked it up too much and too often since then. The sangria was better than I’d remembered. Unfortunately, the tapas did not hold a candle to the memory. ****** * By hiked, I of course mean hobbled about 50 yards or so. What did you expect from a girl who had only been out of her cast for a week? You can see larger versions of the images by clicking on them.

slush

I usually heed the be careful what you wish for warning.

As we drove back from the airport, I was saddened a little by J's sister's recount of the snow we missed while we were gone, by her report that the weather here was supposed to be nice all week. I'd silently wished it would snow again soon.

I love snow. I love watching it fall. I love seeing everything blanketed in clean, crisp white.

I could barely make out the snow on the porch roof this morning when I peeled myself out of bed. I grinned.

Various tree branches were scattered amidst the wet snow in the yard this morning. The trees still have some leaves on them. The wet snow clings to them, bending and breaking the limbs.

When I tried to check my e-mail early, I realized one had taken out my cable line. Of course I couldn't get through when I called. I can live without tv, what I can't live without is the internet access it also brings. Particularly now.

TheDog had surgery while I was gone last week. And now she needs to be closely watched. So, I have to split my work time between my office and home for the remainder of the week. That's very difficult to do with no access to e-mail.

Perhaps the coffee shop down the street won't mind me popping in every hour or so to borrow their wifi.

I'm off (yes, my rocker, too)

I am leaving in a little over 24 hours. I can't concentrate at work. I can't even concentrate enough to figure out what or how to pack. I'm indescribably excited.

This is my first entire-week-out-of-the-office vacation in over a year* and my first more-than-a-week vacation since I went to New Zealand over five years ago.

J and I are flying east. To many of you who live there, it won't seem as exciting as it does to me. But I've never seen real fall leaves. I've never taken a train trip. And I've never been to Boston.**

And there are so many other things I didn't get to see in my previous visits.***

We're stopping in DC, Philly, New York and Boston. A short visit to each, but friends to visit everywhere. And perhaps a few things to see and take pictures of along the way.

I'll be back, eventually. Until then, there's plenty to read linked below and to the left over there.



* I can't believe it's been a year since I went to Kauai (for those posts start here: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7) on the other hand it seems like forever since I took a real, leave work behind vacation.

** OK, so I've flown into and driven out of the Boston airport, but that doesn't really count.

*** Including my New York visit in April (see here: 1 2 3 4).

things that make you go hmmmm

Traffic was terrible. We were late. J and I quickly walked up to the check-in table. I saw him standing all the way at the other end of the table. I waited for some acknowledgement that he'd seen me. None was given.

This was the fourth year we'd volunteered for the GABF. The first was the year we met. Last year was the first that we weren't dating. This year, I wasn't nervous or worried, I really don't care anymore. I was only curious why he'd called me a few months ago. I'd decided (actually my friends had insisted) that he didn't deserve a return phone call.

We walked upstairs and found D all set to pour for one of the best local breweries. The brewery reps were great. One in particular. The three of us, as always, had a great time.

After the pouring was done, as we were deciding where to go for a drink afterward, he walked up to the table. It was almost too loud to hold a conversation. The music was still playing. There were still really loud, obnoxious drunk people milling about. And there was a brewery rep waiting for us to decide where we were drinking.

We didn't talk for very long. But long enough to exchange pleasantries. Long enough for him to ask if I got his message, months ago. I feigned that I couldn't really hear that inquiry. He asked if my number was the same. I said it was. Then D interrupted, saying we had to go, right then. He asked if I was pouring again. He said he'd come talk to me more then.

The nice brewery rep insisted on buying us beers after the festival. Insisted on buying us breakfast before our next shift. Insisted on buying us brewery t's. Alright, so the brewery really did the buying, but he did the insisting.

As we were drinking after our first shift, into the bar walked a very familiar face. He was the brewery rep from a couple of years ago. He remembered me, too. We had flirted incessantly that year, but although he was really cute and funny and he gave me his card, I never followed it up, because I was dating the other at the time. Before he left the bar, he suggested I ditch all beer-pourer protocol and come pour for them again my next shift.

Before our next shift, J and I joined our friend from the brewery we poured for the first night at the breakfast. I never drink beer before noon, but when a brewery buys you breakfast and beer, and it's their fantastic Autumn Ale on tap, well, you drink it.

Once back at the festival, being the rule follower I am, I couldn't bring myself to leave the section I was assigned on our next shift. But J and I walked by the other brewery a few *ahem* times to see if my friend from a few years ago was around. We even made friends with one of their pourers. She assured us he hadn't been there.

Later, we were talking to some random guys when the Sierra Nevada rep from last year walked up and said hello to me. Asked why we weren't pouring for him that year. I cited the "pourers rules" again. J teased me about being remembered by all of the brewery reps.

She didn't drop it at that though. After the festival she asked me if I was going to call this year's rep, since he'd handed me his card. Repeatedly. I laughed. Then reminded her that I didn't think he meant for me to call, despite what she and D thought. Reminded her that I'm dating someone. Then she reminded me that I wasn't sure he was the one for me, and that I'm sometimes a bit clueless.

After she dropped me off I began to think about what she said. About the two guys whose cards I had. Two cute guys. The situation reminded me of the other guys with potential I'd run into one day. The ones who made me question staying with someone when it wasn't working out.

A few days after the festival he called. No, not any of the brewery reps. The ex. I can't decide whether to call him back. I never did get to talk to him more at the festival. Find out why he'd called in the first place.

I'm not sure if I should let my curiousity get the best of me. If I should call him. If I should call any him.

simple fact

he had talked her into going with his friends. in the back of her mind she had hoped that his insistence was because she had been wrong about his reasons for the tale the last time they talked.

when they met outside, he introduced her to his date. her heart sunk. it shouldn’t have. she had her own date, he just had to back out at the last minute.

during the course of the evening, their banter continued. he appeared to pay more attention to her than to his date. but the simple fact that he had a date should have told her everything she needed to know.

whatever it had been, it was over. or at least on hiatus. she would learn to live with that. she would be grateful for the friendship they were able to hold onto.

afraid of my shadow

I've feared things big and small. Worried situations would be uncomfortable. Been scared I couldn't handle certain outcomes.

It was almost paralyzing when I was younger. I used to let these feelings keep me from trying new things, meeting new people. For whatever reason, lately, I've taken to ignoring my fears and worries. And in the end, whether I've been cautious or brave, I've always made it through. At least so far.

This year, I was almost too scared to go to the music festival. My friends had their own things going on. I was staying with a friend of a friend that I didn't know very well. And I wasn't sure how my ankle would fare on the uneven ground with only myself to count on.

When the doctor gave me the slight vote of confidence I needed, I decided to go.

The result?

I got to see my friends more than I ever imagined I would. Spent more quality time with them, than I think I did when they lived there. I gave up seeing a few bands I might have tried to catch otherwise, but hanging out with good friends is so much more important.

The friend of a friend welcomed me into his house with the same fabled southern hospitality that my long-time friend would have, had she not moved away. So hospitable, in fact, I feel I need to thank him with some grand gesture.

But, my ankle and mobility were perhaps my biggest fears. I carried my chair with me everywhere I went and rested my ankle in the middle of the field, when necessary. And I was pleasantly surprised by the accomodations made by perfect strangers for a girl in a cast on one crutch.

I was even included in a surprise birthday party for another friend of my friends. My annual trips to the festival have created almost a home away from home for me. My friends I've met through the ones that used to live there I now count among my own friends.

I may not have gotten to see every band I had hoped to. But as much as I love live music, I love visiting with my friends, both new and old, much more. And between downtown lunches, surprise breakfast movies, and leaving the festival one night early to swim and grab dinner, I think I enjoyed this year's festival more than any other.

And I never mind being proven wrong. Having none of my worries, concerns or fears materialize. Having life show me that I'm stronger and more courageous than I typically believe.

fated to be friends

One of my best friends from college left during our sophomore year, then transferred to a different school. But between late night road trips and boy avoiding hijinks in just a short year and a half we solidified our friendship.

Over the past decade (or so), we’ve been in and out of touch. But it never matters how long it’s been since our last conversation, we always fall right back into easy, real conversation.

Every year before this one, I’d made the rounds visiting my friends in Texas before the festival. This year I knew I couldn’t take all the time off of work. And once I broke my ankle, I didn’t bother insisting anyone drive in to Austin to see me, since I was so unsure whether or not I could go. She was the only one I knew I had to see.

I headed straight to her house from the airport. We talked and talked. For hours. We talked about the little ones, her husband, work, my boy situation. Anything and everything.

She had her second little boy a few weeks ago. And I couldn’t wait to meet him. I’ve now met both of her little ones within their first two months. It may not make sense to anyone else, but I think kids remember you when you meet them when they’re very young. Her oldest always remembers me, even though he’s only seen me a few times since he was three weeks old.

Her parents came by, even after years, they still feel like home away from home to me. In fact it’s our moms’ fault that we’re friends. They met before we ever started college, and they insisted we look each other up when we got to campus. Thankfully we both listened to our moms on that one.

Sometimes things happen for a reason. I believe that. I believe in fate, kismet, whatever you want to call it. Particularly when it comes to my amazingly wonderful friends and how and why they’re all in my life. Now, if I could only believe in the same when it comes to other things.

time to breathe

No, the heat did not kill me. (Just nearly so.) No, (Jeremy) I didn't injure or re-injure myself. And no, there isn't some fantastic reason I've been ignoring you all.

Just work. And more work. He hasn't even been in town to provide a distraction.

My question is, how does taking a couple of days off create four additional days of work to do? It just doesn't make sense. How can everything go wrong in two short days?

Anyway, now that I've bored you all to tears, I will leave you with a promise. That I will be back as soon as I have time to breathe. Hopefully that will be soon.

fly south

My friends and family know me well. Sometimes it seems as if they know me better than I know myself.

No one was surprised when I told them today that I had decided to go on my trip. Particularly after they found out what my doc said yesterday. My broken, pinned bone is healing well. So well, in fact, that I no longer have to use the crutches.

Of course, I was just getting really good at getting around on crutches. And now I have to learn to walk* again. But at least I get to go on my trip, and not have to rely too much on anyone to help me out.

I'll be sore. But the doc assured me I can't do any damage. So, now, it's about time for me to fly south.


* And by walk I mean hobble about, with one leg significantly weaker and about 2 inches longer than the other due to the boot.

wishy-washy

I had hoped M would insist I meet her for the weekend when I talked to her last night. But she didn't. She'll get to see me in a month or so, anyway. And she knows how difficult getting around this weekend on crutches will be. So, I thought, perhaps I won't go.

Then while looking for something else, I found an old Magic 8 Ball, and of course asked it if I should go. It replied, "It is certain." Alright, perhaps I should*.

Then, when I woke up this morning, I decided definitively that I cannot go. My ankle was in excruciating pain. So, I decided I'd have to stay home.

As I was leaving for work, after the pain in my ankle subsided, I read a message which made me think that I should go. Another friend simply stated, I can't wait to see you. That may just be enough.

But, I'm not sure. I'll get to see my other friend next spring, either way. And it would be stupid to go and delay the healing of my ankle, or re-injure it.

Now, I'm back to completely undecided.

So, maybe I'll add all of your opinions to my indecision. Should I fly south to spend three days in the sun listening to good music, getting to see a few great college friends? Or should I play it safe and stay home?

Keep in mind, the festival grounds are huge, and will not be easy to navigate on my crutches. I can't carry much of anything, including luggage or my own drink. And my friends are only going to the festival part of the time, they have family and other obligations to attend to on their visit, as well.

What to do, what to do?


* No, I don't really make any decisions based on a plastic black ball filled with blue water, but the response can be a fun addition to an indecision.

remembering

I turned on the radio this morning. They were talking about the terrible day five years ago. Talking to people about where they were, what they were doing. My own memories came back.

I remember hearing the news driving into work. Thinking how could any pilot fly into a building, what kind of mechanical difficulties could possibly result in that. I remember seeing the second plane hit, on the TV at the coffee shop.

And I remember driving home from work. Everything was surreal. It felt like I was the only one on the road. The sign over the highway read something to the effect of "all flights cancelled until further notice."

It sent shivers down my spine. Perhaps it was a bit morbid, but I pulled the car over to take a picture. The company I worked for at the time manufactured the sign.

A police officer pulled over behind me. He asked if I was alright.

The tears streaming down my cheeks gave me away. But I said I was fine. And tried to explain away my strange need to permanently capture the horrific message on the sign.

That morning the office was full of frightening news. Our sales guys were to meet in the World Trade Center that morning.

And my family was panicking. My brother was supposed to be flying from Boston to LA, but nobody knew what time, or what flight.

And my good friend from college and his parents are all pilots. There were e-mails flying around worrying about their safety.

No one could find anyone. For hours.

Finally the news trickled in. The sales guys got an e-mail sent in, luckily they were running late for their meeting, and were on their way when the first plane hit.

My brother called to let us all know that he was supposed to be on a later flight. He and a colleague were renting a car, instead. And my pilot friend finally sent out a note that he and his parents were all safe.

I felt guilty for feeling relief that the people I know were safe. As if people might think I didn't think it was as horrific, since it didn't directly effect me.

Last year, this day felt more reverent (and I was much more eloquent). Today feels like any other day. And it shouldn't. But I don't know how it should be different.

Perhaps just remembering is enough. Remembering the lost souls. Remembering the feeling of five years ago. Remembering those whose lives were and are changed forever.

dreaming of the future

I keep having this dream. Actually it's not the same. There are variations, but the theme is the same.

In my dream I have gone to a party or a bar with him. The evening always starts out great. But somewhere along the lines I either find him kissing another girl, or getting another girl's number.

It ends with his getting mad at me for being possessive and leaving without me.

Now I really don't think he's going out looking for other girls. I don't think I get jealous easily, at all. And I don't think I always have dreams about the future.

(When I dreamed my neighbor was going to rip up her entire front yard the night before she actually had someone start ripping out her driveway, I was a little disturbed. But those dreams that actually happen aren't that frequent.)

What's bothering me is whether the fact that I've had a similar dream various times means something or not. Am I worried he might cheat? Am I worried I might? Is it my subconscious questioning things I won't allow my conscious to consider?

I really don't know.

memory

Even though I needed to stay late at work, I didn't. Sure, that's me, rebellious.

Instead I headed to meet my mom and sister for dinner. Although the appetizer was incredible, the service was terrible, and we didn't even get our main courses before we had to leave.

Instead, we paid and walked across the breezway. (alright, they walked, I crutched.)

Minutes later there was fur flying in the aisles. And the three of us were grinning from ear to ear. I suppose you could say Cheshire Cat grins.

I could vividly remember going to the theater to see the very same musical years ago with my mom, sister and grandma. Long before it celebrated any anniversaries. And it's now celebrating it's 25th.

The evening was intoxicating, despite the rough start. Even more incredible than I remembered. And I had remembered the songs. Even though I don't think I've heard any but the most famous one since I was a teenager.

Odd what the memory keeps locked away.

At dinner and after the show, I ingested more caffeine than I have in over a month, since before my surgery. I had to finish the work before tomorrow somehow.

And now, instead of sleep, all I want to do is sing and stretch. (I have to draw the line at cleaning behind my ears with my paws.)

But sleep must come. I must remind myself, I'm not really a nocturnal cat, but a girl with a meeting in the morning.

... When the dawn comes
tonight will be a memory too
and a new day will begin...

slowly creeping in

I'm not usually a grumpy person. But lately I can't seem to shake this underlying feeling of blah.

I'm frustrated. Fall* is my favorite season. And the weather's been perfect here. Clear crisp days. Perfect, almost cool, autumn nights.

I want to go for bike rides, walk the dog, rollerblade, or hike to see the soon-to-be changing aspen leaves.

But I can't. And I won't be able to, not before fall ends.

The big black boot on my left ankle will remain there for weeks still. It will be cold, and possibly snowing before I will be able to walk somewhat normally again.

I hate to complain after a great birthday celebration surrounded by friends. But even that, the show at red rocks, and the fiesta were tainted.

The thing is, I'm not really me when I'm on crutches. I am forced to be more or less sedentary. And I'm not. I usually can't sit still.

And I hate having to rely on people. Even those closest to me. My sister to get me upstairs to bed after shots of Patron on my birthday. My mom to do simple household chores for me. Him to carry my plate at the party.

And I hate the thought of canceling my trip next week to see great friends and good music. The practical side of me isn't sure I can make it. But the stubborn, I-can-do-anything, side still thinks I can go.

I can't decide. Ultimately, the doc has the final word. But I hate the defeatist feeling that is slowly creeping in, telling me to stay safe, to stay home. I hate the grumpy edge I've taken on lately. And most of all, I hate the blah.


* I know, technically it's still late summer, but the weather has been distinctly fall-like.

celebrating life

I don't have many milestones to celebrate. No major anniversaries. No kid's birthdays. So I tend to celebrate my own in style.

This year, it will be a week-long celebration. Of my own instigation. It's my time to celebrate life. Broken ankle, crutches and all.

The celebration kicked off a few nights ago with a phenomenal show at my favorite venue, Red Rocks, with Bonnie Raitt and Keb Mo serenading me. Yes, they were singing just for me.

I took time off yesterday to have lunch on a perfect patio day with my mom and sister.

Last night was a nostalgic show at the Botanic Gardens with my mom. We enjoyed Judy Collins' (my mom's long-forgotten pal from her college days) show in her old home state. My mom smiled when she sang Send in the Clowns. I used to do a ballet routine to that song, back when I was more graceful. The song reminded us both.

Today was the, now traditional, angel food cake and strawberries at work (since I was supposed to take tomorrow off). And tonight he's taking me to dinner, since he has plans tomorrow. Yes, plans more important* then spending my birthday with me.

Tomorrow night I'm going for dinner and drinks with good friends. The celebration will continue through the long weekend with friends and family, a party, football game and of course more music.

Really, it's just my excuse to celebrate life.

* Yes, I realize that I told him it wasn't a big deal that he might not be able to hang out with me on the actual day. He's just supposed to want to. I rearranged things so I could see him on his actual birthday. Perhaps it should be telling, perhaps it shouldn't. Perhaps it just is.

just trying to get around

Waiting with other truly handicapped people the other night, I began to feel guilty.

I'd been complaining about the ridiculousness of the stadium's handicap access. Complaining about the pathetically inadequate number of handicapped spaces that fill up hours before game time. Complaining about getting around the stadium.

But sitting there with people who really can't get themselves places, I realized even as slow as I am on my crutches, I'm still much more mobile than some people.

Granted, I'm not crutching it even half of a mile anytime soon, but I sure can get back to the car without waiting for a golf cart that's absolutely necessary for someone else.

So, I told my mom and sister we were walking.

A little ways from the designated handicap waiting benches, a cart driver stopped and asked if we wanted a ride. I agreed, as long as he went back up the hill to get some of the other people, as well.

He apologized to us all for the wait. He'd been yelled at various times that evening. Apparently the whole handicap experience had angered more than just me that evening. It was completely disorganized. Hopefully it will improve for those that really need it.

And I know that for the next game, at least I'll have a different game plan on how to get to and from my seats.

Thank you, Mr. King

Sometimes, it all just comes together.

I was sitting in my loaner wheelchair early. If my "pusher" had been inside already, she could have pushed me to the handicap area earlier.

As it was, the venue was nearly full when my mom walked in with A & S and other good friends she'd just run into. My friend's husband pushed me up to the handicap area.

There wasn't much room left which put me on the outside. When they brought him in on the cart to switch him over to the wheelchair to bring him to the stage he was a few feet from me.

we applauded as he passed by. A legend. A true blues great. On his 80th birthday celebration tour.

His band was phenomenal. The smooth saxophones, trumpet, guitar, piano. All so talented. And he's still got it.

His singing and tales delighted the crowd. Despite the downpour, the show was amazing.

A & S were well under the handicapped tent, as was my mom, well mostly. I had some nice gentleman's umbrella, and a trash bag over my splint. Sure I was getting a bit wet, but with the king of blues on stage and the pain pills, I didn't care.

When the lightening started, they cut him short. Some of his band had stopped accompanying him songs ago. But he wanted to keep going. His manager came up to the soundboard and cut the power.

They brought him back up in the wheelchair, and as he was walking back to the golf cart he paused beside me. He stuck out his hand. I took it in mine and shook it, thanking him personally. Then he said he saved something for me.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out guitar picks for me and my leg rest (a.k.a. my mom).

I was absolutely giddy. My mom was still staying with me after the show. I couldn't sleep. I told her this was the silver lining. It may even have made all of the rest of it worth it.

Even in my craziest dreams, I have never imagined I would ever get to meet and personally thank B.B. King for an incredible night of amazing music in the company of wonderful friends.

post-op

I was scared before. but when I "woke up" I was completely out of it. my ankle hurt like nothing had ever hurt before. but I didn't seem to care.

ah, pain medicine.

it didn't take my doc long at all to fix what I had broken in my adventure of last weekend. I was in the surgery center for less than 5 hours. I was home, but still really out of it, that evening.

I had flowers waiting. from work, and from my parents and sister. and him. I had many well-wishers.*

that night I got sick. nothing really helped. until the doctor called in another prescription. then it was better enough to take my pain meds and fall asleep. although restlessly.

I was feeling much better the day after the surgery. had visitors. worked a little. did a few sudoku puzzles. watched a movie or two.

the next morning I woke up not feeling quite right. I got really sick. and the ankle just kept hurting more and more. and more. I couldn't keep even water down. finally, the doctor called back. they switched the pain meds. once I could take them, they seemed to help. some.

my mom's been a godsend. helping me out. going to the pharmacy. getting me water. crackers to take the meds with. trying to make me feel less miserable.

until today, I'd felt on and off nauseous. for days. this morning I even had a little coffee. and tonight, I'm (hopefully) off to see Mr. King. granted, I'll be sitting in a wheelchair instead of up, dancing to the music. but at least I get** to go.

* thanks everyone for your kind words and thoughts, I so very much appreciate it!
**read: at least I think I've talked my mom into letting me go.

life is beautiful

our trip to the mountains started out great. after relaxing with my nieces and sister-in-law for a little while, we walked down the street to the Italian place.

after dinner, I slept well. really well. better than I had in months. the next morning we lazily enjoyed our breakfast and got ready to go hiking.

it was cloudy. the trail I'd taken a dozen times was the one we'd planned to take that day. but with the clouds, and likelihood of lightening, we decided a trail mostly below tree line was a better idea.

we got to the trailhead. there were other cars, but not too crowded. the hike followed an old mining road for the first few tenths of a mile.

the view back down the gulch was beautiful.

after an old mining cabin, the trail got a little more treacherous. narrow. rocky. exposed tree roots. but we made decent time, except my constant stopping to take pictures.

after stopping to borrow bug spray from a group of hikers, since we had left ours in the car, I commented to J how the hikers seem to get friendlier the further you get from the Front Range. the trails close to the cities seem to have more tourists. more inconsiderate people.

as we continued our climb, the beautiful blooming wildflowers were in sharp contrast to the jagged rocks and majestic pine trees.

the trail meandered past incredible water falls. after the falls we lost the trail a few times. scrambling up granite outcroppings, wandering in the trees.

the long way around sometimes gives a different perspective. I was awestruck by the rugged scenery. so different from the valley two south, where I camped so many times as a kid. also, so different from the valley two north, where I've hiked so many times.

we arrived at our "destination." the hanging lake. the rain started gently falling. TheDog and I climbed down to the lake. amazing how it sits on the edge, water slowly falling over the edge of the cliff.

I would have liked to stay longer. let TheDog swim longer. explore the shore a bit more. but the clouds were darkening, and we thought it best to head on down.

as we started our descent. I decided my sister and I needed to bring TheDog and her dog up here before the end of the season. so TheDog could swim with her friend.

on our way down the rain continued gently. the trail was getting muddier. at one point I slipped on a bit of mud. a tree root caught my foot. but the rest of me kept sliding. my ankle twisted. something snapped. I hit the ground.

the pain shot up my leg and exploded through my body. I couldn't believe it. I couldn't put any weight on my leg. and just then it started to pour.

just putting my foot on the ground was excruciating. there was no way I'd walk out of there.

J helped me half crawl under the trees. my mind raced. I'd have to send J for help. maybe find some sticks to use as crutches.

just then a couple and their nephew came upon us. they offered to help us down. sent their nephew on with their cell to call for help as soon as he got service. they helped me hop. and when that was going really slow. he picked me up and carried me fireman style.

then another couple caught up to us. the two guys helped me hop and carried me when they could. a while later two more couples caught up to our slow moving group. they sent their wives on to help the nephew summon help.

the four guys took turns carrying me, helping me hop down the trail. we'd gone almost a mile when we got back to the mining road. about a tenth of a mile from the trailhead we heard the sound of wheels on the rocks. we stopped. it was the search and rescue team.

after thanking my real rescuers, the amazingly nice hikers that got me most of the way back to civilization, the rescue guys got my ankle immobilized and took me down to the ambulance.

once in the ER, the news came that it was indeed broken. the ER doc said he was fairly sure I'd need surgery. but I needed to go see an orthopedic surgeon as soon as possible.

today I saw the orthopedic surgeon. tomorrow he's performing the surgery. I'm scared. I've never broken a bone before. I've never had surgery before. but somehow I know it's all going to be alright.

the kindness of strangers on a hiking trail has completely renewed my faith in people. in myself. in life. they have reminded me that life is beautiful.

time for a change

time is precious.
it seems to be all I want more of these days. more time to spend with friends. family. TheDog. even him.

I haven't been up to the mountains enough this summer. only once overnight. and that's not enough. I haven't even clicked the shutter in about a month. and that needs to change.

and so, I'm leaving. I'm heading up the hill. for two entire nights. just TheDog, J and me. neither she nor TheDog have seen much of me lately.

I know I'm crazy. how can I possibly take all that time off. all four hours. I just am. and I don't really care about the consequences. work is only that. and it will have to wait.

in the river

relaxing in a camping chair in the middle of the river, cold beer in hand, I was reminded of college.*

the summer I didn't come home, we used to go tubing constantly. it was the only way to be outdoors and stay cool. and this Colorado girl couldn't stand staying in the air-conditioning.

we'd leave early-ish, hit the beer barn and sit on the river for hours. the road trip up was almost as much fun as the tubing. I had summer mix tapes we'd blare as we sped down the highway with the top down. we always stopped for bbq on our way home. sitting in an intertube all day drinking beer apparently works up an appetite.

my reminiscing was interrupted by his asking why I was grinning. I simply said the river reminded me of tubing in college. how can you describe a memory. a feeling. that you're jealous that you're sitting in the river with all of his friends, and yours are miles away?

he didn't press. maybe he could see the hint of sadness in my eyes. maybe he could see I didn't want to elaborate. he took my hand and smiled at me.

I smiled back. despite my moment of sad nostalgia, I was having a great weekend. amazing music, camping, river-sitting, and good friends. even if they weren't my own.

I did send my college friends an e-mail when I got home, wondering if anyone was up for a mini-reunion, with tubing included, of course.


* yes, as white-trash as river-sitting may sound, it did, indeed remind me of my years of higher education.

a girl's got to eat

when I got home too late from work tonight, I opened my fridge to see what I had for dinner. the entire contents? salsa, beer, tonic, limes and margarita mix. (yes, apparently I'm all ready for a party, as long as the guests only require beverages.)

so I figured the freezer might have something. ice packs, ice in a bucket, chicken breasts, coffee beans, and my sort-of-short-term-roommate's frozen dinners.

the pantry had a few items, plenty of dog food and bones, several varieties of crackers, pasta (no sauce), but nothing easily fixed for dinner. (although there is, of course, plenty of vodka and tequila to go with the contents of the fridge and all that ice.)

after considering whether or not I'd get to the store before the s-o-s-t roommate returns and the amount of time it would take to thaw and cook the chicken, I decided on crackers and salsa (I know, very nutritious).

during my gourmet meal, I realized that when I work too much, I let things slide. I forget to open my mail. I space watering my lawn. and, well, obviously the grocery thing.

it's not all laziness or forgetfulness. there's also the not being home much, and eating out too much lately.

besides there aren't many consequences. maybe a bill paid late here or grass shriveling up there. and, of course, having to eat crackers for dinner.

but along with setting limitations for myself (and those I work for) to make sure I have time to keep appointments and swim occasionally at lunch, I shall add to my list of unwavering demands that I have enough time to go grocery shopping. well, at least once a month.

two months

how can it seem like a long time, and yet seem like no time at all, all at the same time?

it's when the questions start creeping in. is there something real there? are you just wasting his time? is he just wasting yours?

it's when you start testing each other. can you be together when there's nothing to do? when there's too much to do? and, of course, the biggest test of all? do the dogs get along?

it's when there are no definitions. you know each other, but you don't. you meet each other's friends, but not family. and you have no idea what he refers to you as to any of them.

you imagine hanging out in the future, but know there's things you dream of doing that he wouldn't. things he may dream of that you wouldn't. but it's probably too early to have the "future" talk?

some of those silly little things start to bother you. but the idea of not having him in your life may bother you more.

you start to question. you start to take for granted. you start to hope for. little things. big things. everything.

should you pay attention to the signs, the nagging feelings, the adorable guy that smiled at you as you were getting coffee?

do you listen to your friends that say he's great, real, sincere, and all the things you wished for in the last one? who tell you not to screw this one up?

or do you listen to your mom who says not to settle for be content with being only mostly content? who says there's not the perfect man out there, but there is the perfect man for you? who says that only two important things are the friendship and the spark?

the importance of family

my mom called me a couple of weeks ago to ask me what I was doing this past weekend. specifically Saturday night. I told her I had tickets to a show, then asked why.

she was heading to their condo, to deal with some HOA stuff, wanted company. my dad couldn't go with her. I said I was sorry, if something changed I'd let her know.

I could tell just by the disappointment in just her voice that she didn't just want company, she almost needed it. she really didn't want to go to the meeting alone.

I'd been to the only one to represent them at an HOA meeting. and despite her being strong and independent, I know one of her strengths is not necessarily meeting with new people, particularly in this type of situation*.

so when my friend asked me if I was still joining them for the show last week, I said yes, unless she might have someone she'd rather take. that although I'd love to see her, I would happily bow out. I had suspected there might be someone she wanted to take instead. I was right.

so I called my mom and let her know I'd join her. she seemed very relieved to have backup at the meeting. and company for part of the weekend.

we had a great short stay in the mountains despite the too-long meeting. we had dinner with my brother, sister-in-law, and nieces. walked the pups for coffee and bagels. and even babysat the nieces so my brother and his wife could actually go mountain biking together.

despite the extra hours it took me to get home afterward because of a truck fire on the side of the highway, I enjoyed my short visit with my mom. I was happy to be able to ease her discomfort in attending the meeting. I enjoyed seeing my brother and sister-in-law. and I always love playing with my nieces.

* I'd go into more specifics here, but can't as of yet.

one is silver and the other gold

an old friend was in town this week. and between work and other obligations, the only night we could hang out was tonight.

Thursday summer nights are usually spent watching films under the stars with the girls. but we made an exception and headed downtown instead.

we had a few free beverages in the hospitality suite at his hotel, then headed out to see a free concert in the middle of the street. (I love summer here, outdoor entertainment at every turn.)

then we decided the vodka needed company in our stomachs, and went for tapas. over serrano ham wrapped dates and salmon wrapped asparagus with blue cheese sauce, we reminisced.

he's like another brother to me. but a brother I can really talk to more like a best friend. it had been a few months since he was in town. and I realized I missed our talks.

it's guys like him, and my other amazing guy friends, that have set my standards so high. and make me treasure my old friends.


make new friends, but keep the old...

thank you, sir, may I have another?

I sat up, wide awake. the clock read 4:08am. 22 more minutes.

I tried to get comfortable again, but the butterflies were already there. I started stretching, well, at least those stretches I could manage while my head was still on the pillow.

the beeps finally started. I reluctantly got up and started gathering my gear. put on my shorts and top. then I headed downstairs to feed TheDog and myself.

there was a faint knock at the door. he was early. I finished checking my tires, re-inflating them a little, before he took my bike to the car. I grabbed the rest of my gear and we headed out.

we walked in from the car, then he wished me luck as I went to set everything up, and he went to find his friend.

I got my gear set up in the transition area and looked for M. she was nowhere to be found, so I got ready and headed to the start.

he was standing there on the beach as I walked to the start. he wished me luck again. it was strange to have someone there cheering just for me.

by the time our wave got into the water, it was already hot, making the chilly reservoir water feel great.

I had been worried for weeks that I hadn't trained enough. truth was, I hadn't, but with that first stroke I knew I was stubborn enough to finish.

the swim felt slow. and A & M were not about to start their wave, cheering me on when I got out. so, it was with a little less enthusiasm than last year that I made my way up the boat ramp.

I got my bike, helmet and shoes, and headed out on the bike course. not too long after, I started lamenting my (not) training. particularly on those hills. but the air blowing past the faster I went felt good. and I knew I could do it. I knew the course.

besides, there were a couple of guys cheering me on as I reached the bike finish. one with a camera and one with a cow bell. wait, where did he get the cowbell??

by the time I got my bike racked, it was hot. really hot. I quickly changed shoes and started on the run course. there was the cowbell again, and since I couldn't run, I teased him about it as I walked past.

about five minutes into my "run," M passed me. I cheered her on. I was going at a decent walk pace. but the heat started wearing me down. I felt a little dizzy. thankfully I'd grabbed my water bottle as I headed out of the transition, as there was only one water station.

M ran back past me again on her way to the finish, we cheered each other on again, and I did my best to pick up my pace a little.

but the heat was ridiculous. after the turn around, I tried running a short stretch. but my hip and back protested too much. and since the path had been completely paved since last year, there wasn't even dirt on the course anywhere to soften the impact.

not too far from the finish line I heard a woman sobbing behind me. I turned around and asked if she was alright. she said she was fine. but she didn't think she could do it. I pointed out the finish to her. told her if I could make it, she definitely could. she was walking more quickly than I and eventually got a bit ahead of me.

as I came up near the finish, he was there cheering me on still. he walked a short way with me, then said he'd see me after the finish. at that point I knew I had to run through the finish again.

as I approached the finish I heard M and her husband cheering me on. then, about ten feet back, I came up on the woman from earlier. I patted her on the back and told her congratulations on finishing.

they announced my name and hers as we crossed the finish. I was so happy to be done, but mostly to not have to bake in the heat anymore.

after finding M and getting a quick picture, I jumped back in the reservoir to cool down. I didn't feel good, but it didn't feel like dehydration. we headed back to the car, and he generously offered to carry my bike across the field so I didn't get flat tires from the cacti.

when we got to the car, the outside temperature read 97 degrees. it would get up to 103 degrees that day. every time I walked outside the remainder of the day I felt instantly ill. I realized later I may have had heat exhaustion. I didn't feel better until later, once the sun finally went down.

as I climbed into bed that night, though, I felt good. sore, but good. I finished. and I couldn't wait to do my next one. maybe even another this year.

define: training

so, thanks to Stacers deductive reasoning skills, the cat's out of the bag. I'm (probably) doing a triathlon Sunday.

I say probably because I haven't been on my bike before my ride tonight in, oh, months. and my first bit of pool time in a long time was Monday. I know, I know, that is no way to "train" for a triathlon.

also, I say doing instead of competing, because with "training" like mine, there is no competing. I only hope to finish without causing a) permanent injury to myself or b) complete embarrassment to myself by coming in dead last.

now, I still can't run because of my back/hip, but I know the swimming isn't a problem, and besides one big hill on the bike course, I'm pretty certain I can make the ride. so, unless (knocking on wood) something happens before then, I'll be there.

besides, I'm too stubborn not to finish. and I'm racing again* in honor of my grandma, from whom I inherited my stubbornness.

the last two are the only reasons I'm still doing the race. oh, and because someone's planning to come watch me. and I can't wimp out when I'll have someone there to cheer me on... and grab a big greasy burger with after the race.


* of course, in reading my post-race post from last year, I realize I haven't done any of the things in my notes to self. so, note to self: next year, re-read race posts earlier.

everything just fades away

it had been a long time. far too long. it was time to jump back in. and it was the only thing I was certain would help relax my shoulder and neck muscles. they have been knotted with stress since last week.

I shouldn't have been away from work so long at lunch. but I had to. and it felt good. great actually. that first stroke. even the last.

such a feeling of peace. of mindfulness of the position of every limb. of forgetfullness of absolutely everything else.

the knots aren't completely gone, but I'm hopeful the therapist can work them out tomorrow. and for now I'm much more relaxed. and I know I can complete the first part in six short days.

the downhill slide to insanity

I had a dream Friday night when I finally got to sleep. I'd missed my flight. I don't know where I was going, but I realized my flight time too late. I felt deflated. defeated.

well, what I realized today was that I didn't miss any flights. but I do have concert tickets sitting on my dresser that were for Friday night. and in the craziness of my last few weeks, I completely spaced the date of the show.

I'm bummed I missed the show. and I'm even more annoyed that I was at work instead of enjoying good music. something's got to give. I can't miss any more "dates" because of work.

time of my life

I'm at work. it's Friday night. all my friends are out having fun. except J, who graciously offered to take time out of her Friday evening plans to feed TheDog and DogFriend for me.

and right now the only thing keeping me from running screaming out of the building is it's dark, really dark, and raining, well, actually pouring.

I know. no one likes to read about work. but right now, that's all there is. it's all I know. and I'm biding my time until I get comments back on my (hopefully final) draft, so I can finalize my report and go home. and sleep. yes, sleep. my life is so very exciting.

what could possibly be worse than still sitting at my desk 14 hours after I first sat here this morning? that I did nearly the same thing yesterday? yes, that, and that fact that I was supposed to be on vacation this week.

yes, I had delusions of enjoying a relaxing four day weekend in the mountains after leisurely celebrating the 4th with the family and my grandma's birthday with her the next day. that was to follow two days of holiday time at work. but, of course, I worked then, too.

so, despite my workaholic tendencies, this situation is unacceptable, even to me. I have meetings scheduled with both my bosses in the next two weeks. one being my review. and don't think for one minute I won't bring up my diligence and going-above-and-beyond-ness this week. repeatedly.

and if something doesn't change. I may be running out the door soon, anyway. in a different mannner of speaking.

fireworks

Happy 4th of July!!

***********

and Happy Birthday to a dear (ii) friend.

and Happy (early) Birthday, Gran!

tangled webs

although not big on going to bars alone, she walked up to the door. the only reason she was there at all was because he asked her if she was going to be. she was nervous.

she was curious why she felt the butterflies. were they because she didn't like to play the part of the barfly or because he would be there.

he was in the doorway as she walked in. he gave her a big hug. then said he'd be right back. he'd forgotten something in his car.

unsure where to go while she waited to talk to him, she tried to look nonchalant as she headed to the bar to order a drink. she'd been out with friends earlier, and decided sticking with beer was her best bet, despite the urge to order a shot. she told herself that it was just nerves. but why?

the last time she'd seen him was even more brief than the time before. they'd barely said hello to each other. he'd promised he'd find her tonight so they could talk.

with beer in hand, she surveyed the room. another one of his friends walked up to her. she was so happy to see another familiar face. now she didn't have to play the part of the barfly.

she sat at a table with his friend. they laughed and joked and eventually he joined them. he told the tale of jealousy of an ex and a girl she suspected him of dating. they were both there that night.

it was strange, really. the timing of the tale. as if he knew what she wanted to tell him last time they really talked. as if he wanted to let her know he didn't feel the same.

was that it? or, as his friend later suggested, was he trying to make her jealous? perhaps. but there was another question she really needed to figure out the answer to. was she just trying to make him jealous when she left the bar with his friend?

take me out

what better way to toast to summer than over a beer and hotdog (or doughy, pretzely thing) at a ballgame?

I had to work late, so I met my friends at the game.

it rained a little, but that just made for the perfect summer evening. and left a beautiful canvas for the setting sun to paint.

the game went into extra innings. meaning more time with my friends. one is moving across an ocean soon, so I didn't mind, despite the mountain of work awaiting me.

it was a sad ending to the evening. not only did the home team lose. but I said goodbye to a friend. I can't take many more goodbyes. although I still have a few too many to endure in the coming weeks.

crazy days of summer, already?

can anyone tell me where spring went? and how did it get to be summer already?

I've been ridiculously busy. not that that is news. my sister's news turned out not to be of the good variety. it's sad for her, she's doing alright. thanks for all of your concern.

I actually think the timing of this particular news turned out to be better than she believes. but I can't say that to her. I just have to be supportive and hope things work out well for her with this.

as for me? I've been researching more. and have entertaining stories to tell. but as you all know, I never tell until they're good. or over. or so vague no one knows what I'm talking about. one of the three, at least, will be coming soon.

but between working and playing I have had no time for writing. unless work calms down some, that's not changing anytime very soon.

I'm off to California on Friday for yet another wedding. that is, if I can make it to Friday with all this working and playing.

when good news isn't

my sister called me this morning. she had news. it may be good, but it may not be. she won't know for certain until Friday.

I want to be happy for her, if it turns out to be the good news. but the good news scares me more than the bad.

I could mask my lack of enthusiasm with her on the phone. I could play it off as concern that it would not turn out to be the good news she is hoping for.

but what do I say if it turns out to be the good news? how do I look my baby sister in the eyes and tell her I'm happy for her when I'm really terribly scared for her?

dirty, hungry and thirsty

it's not funny. but at the same time, it's been hilarious.

I've been so ridiculously busy lately, that I haven't done laundry, grocery shopped, or watered my lawn in far too long.

I also need to get to the pool. get on my bike. go for a "run." if not, I may have to bail on the race.

so what exactly have I been doing lately? I've been staying out far too late drinking, spending perhaps a little too much time relaxing with friends, and spending way too much time sitting at my desk at work. and slowly, I'm going insane.

all I want is a normal routine. to not skip class to do work. to not waste time meeting a guy that turns out to be an ass. to sleep more than 5 hours. to take TheDog out for a walk. to not have to say goodbye to another friend. to have a carton of milk in my fridge.

but for now, it's all just a dream.

steamy revelations

it's been the same old thing for weeks, months, even longer.

I lost it a while ago. and since then I've been going through the motions. trying to feel the same way again.

every morning, getting up, going through the routine. I still tasted it, breathed it in. it used to make me smile. lately the smile hasn't followed.

this morning I inhaled. breathing it in. feeling it. tasting it. something was different.

with the first sip, came the smile. have I found it again? is the taste back? does that mean the rest will follow?

wine whine

when did I get so dumb? I can't figure these things out anymore. (maybe it was just too many glasses of wine with dinner tonight. maybe that just led to the incoherence that follows.)

anyway, I used to know when I was going after the wrong thing. when life didn't make sense, I would change what needed changing.

life doesn't make sense. and this time it's not just one thing. I can't pinpoint what needs changing first. my job. my friends. the guy situation. my attitude. my expectations. my hopes.

I'm usually happy. or mostly so. lately I can't shake the funk. and I find myself doing ridiculous things for ridiculous reasons.

I blew off my friends for a boy. then I blew off that boy to go home early.

what makes it worse is I had previously decided that boy isn't worth it. but lately I've begun to question that. sometimes his interest seems sincere and sometimes not at all. I don't think I'm who he's looking for. and he may not be that for me.

but he makes me laugh. and talking to him is the only thing that consistently makes me happy lately. I even use our conversations to psyche myself up to talk to the others.

and, as for the others, the one I kind of liked disappeared. as did another. and the one whose interest remains is losing mine. although as J said, there are always more.

but I'm tired. exhausted, really. I just want to sleep. not have to get up to work or even rollerblade.

I don't want to wake up to find all my friends are really gone. I don't want to wake up to find that all of the possibilities really aren't.

star-crossed

their eyes met across the room. he smiled his disarming smile. she smiled back.

he joined them for a while. their playful banter met with a raised eyebrow from her friend. she'd insisted they were only friends now. she insisted to her friends. to herself.

but she was begining to question if maybe there was more. and that uncertainty was now apparent to her friend.

her friend had to leave, and she was exhausted. so they finished their drinks and made their way toward the door. as they were leaving he teased her about her inability to stay out late.

she wanted to tell him the only reason she was even there at all was him. she wanted to tell him that she maybe did want more than just his friendship.

but she held back. she couldn't put it all out there again. she was too afraid of not even being his friend if she did. she was too afraid that she'd completely misread the look in his eyes. misread everything, again.

how could she ever tell him that she'd been comparing every guy she met to him. whether they could make her laugh. whether they understood her slightly odd sense of humor. whether their conversations left her wanting to know more. know everything.

she couldn't. not now. she was beginning to think that maybe he was right when he called them star-crossed.

hey jealousy

you know it might not be that bad, you were the best I ever had...
all I really want is to be with you, feeling like I matter too.

that song reminds me of college. and a boyfriend after college. and now, how he now lives in the town I went to collge in.

he was the best boyfriend I ever had. everything was real when we were together. it was comfortable and easy when we first met. and the chemistry was amazing.

we may have played little games along the way, but not the big ones. he knew how I felt I knew how he did. in the end the timing turned out to be really bad. for both of us.

do we get a second chance at it? not we, as in he and me. we, as in all of us. will it, can it, ever just all fit again?