unsure

I've kept things to myself. Not shared. Every time I try to explain why I am feeling the way I do my friends or sister say I'm being too quick to judge.

But there's a gut feeling. The same kind that I can't explain to him about why I think the way I do about certain issues.

I don't know if I need to be more tolerant or if my trepidation is founded. And recently I haven't been in the mood to figure it out. I'm exhausted by the mere thought of figuring it out.

I need someone to talk with about it all. But everyone is too busy. My little issues are completely inconsequential in comparison to others' right now.

I'll figure it out eventually. Maybe. Hopefully.

photo Friday #14

Red Aspens

Colorado
(October, 2008)

What you are will show in what you do.

Thomas A. Edison

photo Friday #13

Aspens

Colorado
(October, 2008)

No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.

Aesop

no place like home

She's home. Finally. No more lights or sensors. No more IVs or oxygen tubes.

Unfortunately, I can't go see her, just yet. The last time I got to hold her was nearly a week ago.

But, as soon as I get over my silly sinus infection, I intend to take TheDog to visit my adorable new niece.

lucky misfortune

It was a gorgeous fall day. I drove slowly, despite being a little on the late side. I was too busy taking in the beautiful golds and rusts of the autumn aspen leaves to hurry.

I was having dinner with classmates, miles from home. After not having seen TheDog in days, after being in Texas for nearly a week prior.

Work was crazy busy, but winding up the mountain roads made it slip out of my mind. I didn't have a care. Only thoughts of my class and conference, and how nice it would be to see colleagues I rarely get to see.

As I made my way down from the tunnel, something felt not quite right. My first thought was to just keep going, I was only a half of an hour from my destination, and I'd just checked the tires before I left.

Then a little voice from somewhere said, maybe you should exit. Yes, the exit right there, check your tire pressure at that gas station, maybe even get a latte.

Maybe it was the clarity of that voice or though. Maybe it was the promise of caffeine. Whatever it was, something made me cut across two lanes of traffic to the exit ramp.

As I slowed down, I felt a thud, and slowly pulled to the side of the exit ramp. As I stepped out of my car, my tire tread came rolling down the exit ramp after me.

I looked at the tire, or where it had been, and all that was left was a rim with a little bit of rubber sprouting from the edges.

I realized I was shaking. But quickly started thinking about what to do. My first thought was to try to change the tire myself, then call AAA. But first I wanted to let those expecting me for dinner know that I would be late. I called my friend in the class to have her tell the others I'd be late.

As luck would have it, for the second time that night, she was just coming down from the tunnel herself, and asked if I wanted her to stop.

By the time she pulled off the highway, I had all of the various work and fun related items out of my trunk and into the back seat, and the spare tire out. I had tried to budge a lug nut, but to no avail. She also tried to loosen them, also without any movement.

Just as I was about to call AAA and resign myself to wait an hour or so for them to show, a very nice guy in a pickup stopped and offered us assistance. In about 15 minutes he had the tire changed, and had inspected the others for me. He was confident I'd be alright to continue on my journey, as I have a full-size spare.

My friend offered to give me a ride from there, leaving my car at a shop where we were, and getting a ride back to it after the conference from someone else in the class.

For some illogical reason, I felt I needed to make the drive. My friend followed behind me as we continued up and over the pass, at a very reduced speed. As every bump in the road had my knuckles turning a paler shade.

When we finally arrived at dinner with our classmates, I drank a glass of red to calm my nerves, and proceeded to enjoy the rest of the dinner.

Post-dinner drinks in the hotel bar, a great class, a fun night at the casino, and interesting conference talks all came to an end with a phone call from my mom.

When I saw she'd called, in the middle of the day, my heart jumped into my throat. God, please let TheDog be ok. She was, but my sister's water had broken. And as I snuck out of the conference a day early, I knew why it had been so important for me to drive my car there the other night.

I do believe in God and angels and something watching over us. But my usual bad luck couldn't have turned out better. I shudder to think what might have happened if I'd stayed on the highway going much more than the 15 mph I was going when the tire blew. And I could never have forgiven myself if I'd missed my adorable little niece being born.

Thanks to the kindness of a stranger, again, a not-so-great thing turned out to be just fine. Really good, even.

new addition

Things have been an absolute whirlwind lately. Various stories to tell. But only one really important one.

I'm an auntie! (again) My new little niece was about five weeks early and is still in the NICU, but she's doing better each day. She's beautiful and partially named after me. And I can't even imagine how much my sister wants her to come home.

I can't wait to be able to hold her and spoil her as a good auntie should.

welcome fall

It's my favorite season, if you don't count skiing and hiking seasons, this season of fleece pullovers and sweaters. Yes, I love fall.

So why in the world am I leaving my cool evenings and mornings to head south for another week of heat? Why, the music and friends, of course.

Another week of summer on repeat. Another year of listening to good tunes with great friends.

I can't wait. Although I have to, for another day or so. But soon I will happily leave the stress of work, and sadly leave TheDog.

And even though I know she'll be well cared for, I'll worry about her the entire time. My sister will spoil her while I'm gone, take wonderful care of her. But leaving her has been a really difficult decision. I just hope it's not the wrong one.

circle of friends

Some called me the organizer, others the instigator. Until recently, I guess I didn't really think anything of it.

Sure I like to get my friends together. Have a bbq every now and again, plan a girls' night out, suggest a happy hour drink.

A group of us went to the baseball game last night. On tickets I had exchanged from games I'd missed. A friend of a friend asked how we all knew each other. One stated that I was the center.

That's certainly not always the case. But when I found out the girls assumed I had plans with the new boy since I hadn't suggested happy hours lately, I realized it sometimes is.

When I've always done the suggesting, people have simply assumed I was busy when I stopped. They didn't even imagine I really needed someone to do the suggesting for once.

Once I was certain TheDog would be fine left unsupervised. Certain I could leave her for a few hours and she'd be alright, I started suggesting things again. A baseball game, dinner.

One such suggestion led to the question of what my happy hour plans were. Happy Hour? I hadn't happy-houred in weeks.

Happy hour turned into hours of people watching at Oktoberfest. The baseball game turned into a few too many drinks among friends.

And things seem back to normal. Mostly.

Sitting around last night, after my last ill-advised martini, my nerdy friends and I all took out our cell phone calendars and added a few things.

They may or may not happen. But in making the plans, I realized we are all just busy. My friends haven't forgotten about me. I just need to crawl out of my cave sometimes and check in with them.

woe is me

Just a quick woe is me moment. Feel free to ignore.

---

It's pathetic just looking over at the number of posts per month this summer. The thing is, I haven't felt much like writing. Even before TheDog got sick.

It's not that I haven't had a fun summer. But I've felt a bit like life is passing me by. With wedding festivities and baby showers and kids birthdays to celebrate with all of my friends, there just haven't been many interesting "me" things to write about.

Even my birthday was a non-event this year. I canceled the party I had planned, because of TheDog. And I've felt guilty leaving her for too long to do too many frivolous things like happy hours and dinners.

My friends have mostly forgotten about me, it seems. I am so far out of the loop I didn't even know that two of my good friends are dating each other. And have been for a while.

Friends I've introduced have begun leaving me out of their get-togethers. And I'm not sure if it's something I've done, or something I forgot to do.

Only one or two called to check in on me in the weeks that TheDog was really sick. A few e-mailed. But it was like they didn't really want to have to hear about it.

And the birthday was a non-event for them, as well. We plan dinners and weekend get-aways for their birthdays, and mine came and went with maybe a text or e-mail.

It seems the one who always calls and is there for everyone else when they need to vent or just talk has no one to turn to for the same.

I'm just feeling slighted. Like my friends aren't really that right now. Like they would rather not be. Like my only real friends are either sick and furry or live hundreds and thousands of miles away. And I miss them.

not when

As we got closer to the place I'd been all to often lately, she started shaking. She truly hates that place. She's been there too much.

As we got out of the car she looked up at me with her beautiful big brown eyes. Pleading with me not to make her go back there. I smiled at her, promising it would be quick. Promising I'd take her home.

The surgeon, the other vet that sent TheDog home with me, and the surgeon's assistant all joined my mom, sister and I in the exam room with The Dog.

We were there to have the staples removed. And to get the results of the biopsies. I was happy to have them all there.

The news was not good. The mass is not the kind of cancer that will respond to chemo. And the surgeon still thinks the surgery to remove it is too risky, with too difficult of a surgery to put her through.

So, there is no next course of action. There's nothing I can do. And nothing anyone can do. Except spoil her rotten. And hope and pray that this thing grows slowly. And isn't at all painful. The vet assured us we would know when it became painful, or when it has grown too large.

I don't know what to do with when. I just know what I'm doing with now. Staying up with her. Making sure she's comfortable. Giving her lots of love, short walks and home-cooked meals. And wishing against when.

waiting, wishing

My mom and sister were at my house when I got the call last week. It was the surgeon who did the exploratory surgery. She was calling to check on TheDog, and to let us know she'd gotten preliminary results on the biopsies.

I looked at my mom's and sister's worried and expectant faces. Then I asked what the results were.

She said the biopsies of the liver looked ok. I sighed, audibly. My sister smiled. I said the gazillionth prayer for the same thingsame thing.

Then the vet's voice changed. The biopsy of the mass in her stomach showed it was cancerous.

But it wasn't as specific as the vet would have liked. She asked if it would be ok to send the tissue samples to the outstanding lab up the highway a ways. It would help to determine what course of action could possibly be taken.

I agreed.

I relayed the information once I'd hung up. We were back to waiting and wishing.

paws crossed

The vet called Saturday morning. They were concerned. They couldn't get TheDog to eat in ICU. And she still wasn't eating more than a nibble when we went to visit Friday night.

The vet suggested we try at home. For 24 hours. To see if being there was depressing her. To see if she'd be more comfortable at home.

I went to pick her up. The vet was not optimistic that we could get her to eat for us. She told us the words you never want to hear, Just try to make her comfortable.

I got her home and settled. Tried to get her to eat. To drink water. Desperate to make her better, not just comfortable. She wanted none of it.

My sister and her husband came over, my parents drove up. I got e-mails and calls from so many people, worried about her. Praying for her. Fingers crossed. Paws crossed.

Finally just before Grandpa had to leave to take care of his own furry critters, she ate some of the turkey burger he bought for her. Then some of the bun. And a little more turkey and rice. And water.

And she's looking less doped up by the pain meds. And more happy to see everyone. But I'm trying not to get my hopes up too high, since we still haven't heard about the biopsies.

But I'm still praying and wishing and hoping against hope.

Fingers and paws still crossed.

hoping against hope

We heard a dog trotting down the hall as we awaited TheDog to join us in the exam room. The door opened and it was her. Looking very happy.

So happy to see my mom and I, she kissed my hand, which she hadn't had the energy to do in a couple days. So happy to go outside to use the doggie facilities. So happy to go home that when she sat in protest as we tried to take her back inside, my heart broke a little.

I'm her mom. I'm supposed to protect her. Supposed to make her feel better. But she's always been the one protecting me, making me feel better. She's my Angel Bear.

Yesterday, after she'd refused to drink anything, I took her back to the vet. They did an ultrasound. And saw a mass. In her stomach.

My sister met me yesterday afternoon to meet with the surgeon, to discuss our options. We decided to go ahead with the surgery. In case they could easily remove the mass.

I sat with her most of the day yesterday, when she wasn't hooked up to the IV to try and make a dent in her dehydration. My mom, sister, brother-in-law and I all returned last night with my sister's dog for a nice long visit.

This morning my mom and I went to visit before the surgery. She looked good. So good I wanted to take her home, to let her have her wish of not going back into that building.

But I knew I'd never forgive myself if they could remove the mass and I didn't let them try.

We waited for news outside the vets office. Praying she would be alright. That things would turn out well. The call came as we were sitting on a bench talking of how strong she is, how stubborn. How many times she's already beat the vets doomsday prognoses for her.

The surgeon was very matter-of-fact, although the tone in her voice gave away the gravity of the news before she said what she needed to tell me. The mass is where it couldn't be removed without a good possibility of serious complications. So they took a biopsy of the mass and her liver, which looked a little abnormal. Then they just closed her back up.

We, of course, stayed to see her when she woke up. She was very groggy. So much worse than a few hours before. And for what? I don't know.

We went back tonight. She hadn't improved much. I felt horrible, my fault that she was worse. Surgery that solved nothing, only made her feel worse.

I can't quite shake the feeling that I hurt her more. Caused her more pain. As we were leaving, I kissed her goodbye, and told her I was sorry. She gave me a few kisses in return, almost as if to say it's alright, she understands. She made me feel better, as she always does.

She's my baby. I am still hoping against hope for a miracle. I can't even imagine what I'll do if one doesn't happen.

has to get better

The last two weeks have not been good in other areas. But last night things went to terrible where it really matters.

Up all night with TheDog. After debating about what she could have eaten. Nothing. About if she could just have a bug. Doesn't appear to be so. After my boss getting mad about it, I took her in this morning.

They did tests. Found nothing concrete. I'm just to watch her. If she doesn't get better, she goes back.

It's looking like we're going back. But I'm praying she has a miraculous recovery soon.

I can handle a lot. Not this. She just has to get better.

just want to thank you

Such a crazy week. Work. Work that's not work. And a very interesting course.

But amidst the hectic pace, I made time to do one thing that always makes me feel like, well, me. And I did it three nights in a row.

The three nights in a row makes everyone thinks I'm crazy. And I am a little. Alright, a lot.

But Kevin, James and Chris sure know how to make a girl's heart skip a beat. Melting to the sounds of their voices.

I can't pick a favorite. Not even based on the my company. My fantastic "date" the first two nights, and many friends tonight. They were all too amazing.

So, thank you Keb' Mo, James Taylor and Chris Isaak. Thank you for sharing your talent this week.

I needed a little live music fix. Ah, who am I kidding? I needed a lot of live music fix. So, thanks.

needing a reminder

I think part of the reason I haven't been writing is because sometimes I think writing about things jinxes them. But that's just being silly, right?

Still, I'm not ready to write about some things. But some I need to.

Despite the new guys I've met, the last one has lingered. Continuing to text and ask me to join him for coffee. With his previously insisted let's remain friends, I agreed.

I loved talking with him. Our friendship was always fun, even when the dating thing was not working so well. So I joined him for coffee. And was reminded how great it was to chat with him over a cup of steaming hot goodness.

He invited me to join him and friends at the park for a little jazz and offered to make me dinner the night after my triathlon.

I had to decline both times. I assumed they were just friendly gestures. Particularly since I never met his friends while we were dating. My friends insist offering to cook dinner is not a friendly gesture.

I have insisted it is. That's all I can do. There are other people to consider now.

So, when my curiosity about his intentions started after the last suggestion of coffee turned into maybe grabbing a beer, I decided I needed a reminder. Thankful I wrote down the aftermath of how he broke things off. Of how I let him make me feel even before that.

I'm certain in my friends only conviction now. It was his insistence months ago. Now it will be mine. He's already had a second chance, and a third, maybe even fourth.

And, as I said, there are others.

where was I

So, where was I? Oh, yes, last time I checked in I had recently met my first nephew.

And then the page went blank. I know I've been remiss in writing, but it's for a very good reason.

Do you believe that?

Yeah, me neither.

So, I realize I haven't even told my tale of the river trip two months ago. Much less my tales of possible boys that may have come into and possibly gone out of the picture. I haven't told the tales of the triathlon, or the family gatherings, or celebrations and get-togethers with friends. Not to mention the tale of the best show I've ever seen. Four words: The Police, Red Rocks.

And sadly there is no time to tell them now. I simply wanted to quickly thank those of you who showed your concern over my (gasp) month's absence. I am indeed alive, and mostly fine. Just too exhausted to tell my tales lately.

I will. Soon. I promise. Really.

new man in my life

I can't remember where I left off. I will get back to the trip stories, friend stories, and other tales at some point. Right now, I have a boy story.

He's adorable. He's got big, big deep blue eyes. For now, anyway. Cute little toes. Long, destined-to-play-piano-like-his-mom fingers.

And best of all, he likes me. He smiled at me a little bit the night I met him. That was the moment I was smitten.

When he was crying as his grandma held him, I offered to hold him. And he quieted right down. He likes his auntie.

And this auntie is very much looking forward to hanging out with the new man in the family, my nephew.

photo Friday #12

near Moab

Utah
(May, 2008)

Only those who will risk going too far
can possibly find out how far one can go.

T. S. Eliot

can't even imagine the right words

A few months ago they all thought it was gone. The doctors. The patient. Her family. A clean bill of health. But back it came. Quickly.

Try though she did, this time it was just too much for her. And she left behind an amazing family. One I was lucky enough to feel a part of, even being invited to Sunday family dinners.

I finally was able to clear the lump that has set up permanent residence in my throat long enough to call my friend. I didn't know what to say. Just knew I had to call.

We talked for a while. She was happy to hear from me. She told me I was one of the few people that understood the bond she had with her mom.

When I walked in the door of my house, my mom was there for our plans for the evening with my sister. She asked why I had tears in my eyes. I told her about my earlier conversation.

She teared up. Sadly she'd never met my friend's mom, although I know they would have been fast friends. I understand she's sad simply because of how much my friend's mom meant to her, and to me. But it seemed to be more than that.

Then I realized, she was about my age when it took her dad. That she knew all too well just how difficult a time my friend was having losing a parent at such an early age. Having to go through the ups and downs of treatment. Trying to explain what was happening to her young kids.

My friend said she was focusing on how lucky she is to have had such a wonderful mom that she lived close to and spent lots of time with. She's right, I do understand. And I feel extremely lucky and a little guilty to have gotten to go to dinner and a play with my mom and sis tonight.

And so I urge you, be thankful for all the family and friends you have in your lives. I know I am. And please keep my friend and her family in your thoughts and prayers.

words aren't working

I hurried back from my friend's wedding weekend festivities for Father's Day festivities with the family. It was wonderful. But the call I got from another friend's husband on the way home from my sister's was anything but.

I'm sad. For her, for her family. And a little mad in the why do things like this happen to wonderful people way.

I don't have the energy to think too much about it. Everytime I do, tears stream down my face and all I want to do is call my mom.

too much, not enough

I know. I still have to tell a tale or two about a river trip. The problem is, I haven't even had time to download pictures from my cameras. And what kind of trip tale would it be without the pictures?

What have I been busy with? Meeting new guys, hanging out with them. Maybe even a date or two. Spending lots of quality time with friends hiking, hanging out in the mountains, having a guy in a very short skirt serve us brunch. Going to fantastic shows. Trying to get ready for a triathlon. And working on other things.

The list goes on. And on. And I'm hoping I have time to tell the tales at some point. But for tonight. I have to put my disappointment away at yet another guy failing to call when he says he will and get some sleep. Lots of things to take care of in a short week.

photo Friday #11

Red Rocks

Morrison, Colorado
(June, 2008)

Take the first step in faith.
You don't have to see the whole
staircase, just take the first step.

Martin Luther King

no good at this

Do they have to make your heart skip a beat? Right away? Or is attraction or interest something that can grow as you get to know someone.

I've been fully consumed by the butterflies and weak knees only to have those feelings wane. I've been not-so-interested, only to become more interested. But the latter has never grown to the butterflies. Never become the person I can't wait to see, wait to talk to.

Maybe it's just me. I don't know. But I think there has to be a spark near the beginning, or it won't work. Not in the long term.

You can try to convince yourself that he might be a possibility. The perfectly nice guy that insists on taking you to dinner and concerts. Who opens the door for you. Who says sweet things about your smile. That is interesting to talk to. Who should be the right guy. That his niceness will create more.

But in my (limited) experience that has never been the case. Whether I give it a few dates to spark or over a year. (Yes, I know, save your breath.)

But this time I think it might be me. I am not feeling up to dating. Or constantly putting my best foot forward. To meet new guys, only to go on a date or two and for one of us to lose interest. I'm tired of trying. Does it have to be this hard?

no more punching bag

The plan was to skip out on work a tad early to exchange cars. Stopping by the car wash on the way, to remove the sand from the trip before returning the barge to my dad. The quick exchange turned into a marathon shopping, dinner, and coffee evening.

The perfect distraction from a day spent quibbling with my siblings about what to do for Father's Day, and whether I was a terrible daughter simply because I'm flying back only in time for dinner and not in time for other festivities if they ever get planned.

I bought a few workout wardrobe items I needed, and talked my mom into a few things as well. We both completely redecorated our houses without buying a thing. Well, unless you count my mom's new dish towels.

Just hanging out with my mom nearly made me forget the mean things my brother said to me when I mentioned how expensive it would be to change my flight to accommodate the possible change in plans. Despite the fact that I tried to get them to discuss plans weeks ago before I booked my flight.

Somewhere in the middle of the furniture section at C&B, while deciding which rugs might go best in which rooms, I realized it's not worth the fight. My brother will either realize he's being a jerk or he won't. I'm too exhausted to insist my dad is important to me to someone who very well knows that is the case. To someone who is simply taking his frustrations in other areas out on me.

I've decided to try to be the bigger person. I'll ignore his jabs. Excuse myself from the role of his punching bag.

don't know what to say

It seems self-indulgent. To tell stories of trips and boys and friends. When my friend is barely hanging on.

I could barely look at her today. She didn't want to look at me. We'd both start crying if we did. I don't know what to say. She doesn't want me to say anything.

She wants to keep her mind off of what's going on. I understand.

I reassured her of what she already knows. That I'm here for her. Always. Whenever.

I hope I have the strength to be the kind of friend she is to me.

in need of a miracle

I'm home. Safe. Despite swimming a rapid and nearly being washed out of camp a night or two. (Thanks for the concern, Jeremy.)

But tales will have to wait.

I can't seem to remember the fabulous about the trip, when a wonderful friend of mine told me some terrible news tonight.

Please keep my friend's mom in your thoughts and prayers. Her family's been through too much already. They need a miracle about now.

photo Friday #10

I'm off to float a couple of rivers. Have a great week everyone!

San Juan River

Utah
(May, 2007)

To be nobody but yourself -- in a world which is doing its best,
night and day, to make you like everybody else -- means to fight
the hardest battle which any human being can fight,
and never stop fighting.

e.e. cummings

disappointing reminders

The phone rang. My stomach flipped. A grin spread across my face.

It could have been either of them. They both said they would call. And I was looking forward to talking to both of them.

The butterflies subsided as I looked at the caller id. It was my friend calling to talk about the trip.

Our conversation was interesting and entertaining, as it always is. Reminding me that friendship is the most important thing. Reminding me that someday I want to find a guy that is as easy to talk to as he is.

Someday was not tonight. Neither called. Why do they say they will, then not follow through? Why not just say I'll talk to you later instead of I'll call you tonight?

overwhelmed

I'm not entirely sure how, but my only weekend at home not sick since March left me no time at all for actually being at home.

Between happy hours and BBQs, between cd release parties and trip planning beers, and of course Mother's Day festivities, my weekend slipped away. All of it was extremely fun. But it left me feeling overwhelmed.

Now I have to get ready for a garage sale and the trip in just a few evenings. Evenings also packed with plans. Dinners and shows and softball games. Tales to tell from each.

But just writing about it makes me feel exhausted.

happy Mother's Day

Sitting around the biggest table they had, with the family, being offered a Mother's Day rose, despite the fact that, as my brother quickly pointed out, I am not a mother.

As everyone was passing around and opening cards, I just sat there watching. Then my Dad handed me a card. From TheDog. It was sappy, and made me tear up a little.

I looked over at my mom to tell her thank you, and she smiled knowingly back.

The card I gave her said something about her making me who I am today. It is so true. She is an amazing woman, despite our differences of opinion on occassion. And I am a lucky, lucky daughter.

After brunch most of us spent the rest of the day at "Grandma and Grandpa's" playing with my nieces and the dogs.

The perfect way to spend Mother's Day, as far as my mom is concerned. I'd have to agree with her this time.

photo Friday #9

Reflection

near Frisco, Colorado
(September, 2007)

Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart.

Confucius

happy for her

I finally got to see my sis. She finally felt better. Better enough to join my mom and I for dinner before the show.

Dinner was fantastic. The show was nothing to write (home) about. But the time with my mom and sister was wonderful.

We talked about Mother's Day, and Father's Day plans. Began planning for a baby shower.

My sister looks great. That glowing pregnant great. And happy. Really happy.

I'm so very happy that she's happy. That everything is alright with her and the little one.

a little information

A game with new and old friends. It was supposed to be partly about figuring out the trip. We got to talking and laughing and perhaps drinking a few too many beers. We forgot about the planning.

We leave in a little over a week. I'm trying to figure out a few things. But there doesn't seem to be a sense of urgency on his part. Maybe mine is because my friends keep asking what the deal is.

I don't like not knowing. I'm the information-sign-on-my-head girl. I know things.

Maybe I should just plan things, and let everyone know what I decided.

leaving depleted

We dragged ourselves out of bed the next morning and headed for coffee. Then, realizing checkout was much nearer than we thought, we quickly packed.

After saying goodbye to a couple of the girls until the wedding, we checked our bags with the hotel, and wandered up the strip in search of a little hair o' the dog. In the blazing desert sun.

By the time we found a patio with tables shaded by umbrellas, I could no longer fathom ingesting any sort of alcohol. S was in even worse shape than I was. Our old was most certainly acting up again.

While the other girls enjoyed their margaritas, S and I drank what the waiter called all the water in the desert.

Then as the bachelorette and her maid of honor tried their luck with the room credits, before catching their flight, the rest of us, with an even later flight, decided to relax (read: pass out) by the pool.

Waiting in the terminal for our flight, it was obvious that we had done Vegas right. We'd arrived full of hopes and expectations for a fun-filled weekend. We left depleted and on the wagon. Well, at least for a day or so.

herding cats

After a little early morning confusion over a surprise-for-the-bachelorette reservation, we grabbed coffee and a quick breakfast.

Then a few of us headed to the pool, and got settled in, ready to surprise the bride. To hear her tell it, she was wondering how you get so lucky as to lounge in the poolside pavilions as they walked up, and was pleasantly surprised to find we'd arranged just that for her day of celebration.

Our waitress was very attentive to our sangria and margarita needs, as we got down to the business of a little lingerie shower. You might think that seven girls on a large bed surrounded by columns, oohing and ahhing over lingerie, might draw a little attention. But apparently not so much in Vegas.

We played a little Texas Hold 'em amongst ourselves, betting drinks for later that night. Telling tales from college, and laughing at all the silly things we used to do. And still do.

After a very long day in the sun, some of the girls left to shop, and some of us napped in preparation for our big night out.

Dressed in our Vegas finest, we headed to the opposite end of the Strip for dinner, dancing, and whatever else the night might have in store. Those of us not allergic to feathers were adorned in boas, all were ready for a few flirtations and a little fun.

It wasn't until the gorgeous bartender made our espresso martinis that we started to have hope that the tales of the trip might include a cute guy. We had been a bit disappointed by the "scenery" thus far.

Then, while walking through the casino in search of a specific type of table that I'm not sure I ever quite caught the name of, we were stopped by guys there for a bachelor party. As we chatted, one in particular seemed to be insistent that I needed another drink.

We were talking with another of my friends, and he insisted he buy us both drinks, not wanting to be rude, we obliged. And while walking to the bar, two more of our group joined, and the poor guy ended up buying a round for me and half our bachelorette party, saving me from paying up on my earlier poker drink debt.

He seemed nice, and continued buying not only me, but my friends drinks. So, we continued to hang around with all of them.

We danced. We talked. At one point he kissed me on the dance floor.

Despite his friends insistence that we should continue hanging out, I wish I could tell you the outcome was better than my last Vegas trip. Well, he was also not-so-single. (Why am I a magnet for unavailable guys?)

Eventually some of the girls wanted to go home. S insisted she wanted to stay out and dance. (Most funny if you know she really doesn't like to dance.) I was having fun, so I said I'd stay, too. As did our other, more inebriated friend.

So, given the single girls, and it bears mentioning, the three least-sober, were planning on staying, the bride-to-be stayed to make sure we all got back eventually.

It's not as terrible as it seems, she is the most late-night person I know, and was entertained by our not-sober shenanigans. (Or at least I rationalized that at the time. Later she told me she felt as if she was herding cats.)

We stayed for a while. Wandering through the casino. Talking to inappropriate guys. At least I knew to turn down yet another drink.

Eventually, we grabbed a cab. And as S and I weaved back and forth down the hall to our room just shy of 6am, I knew it was the beginnings of a rough day.

old acting up

Once we arrived at the hotel, we grabbed a Bloody Mary and a little breakfast. Then waited for our room to be ready while resting poolside enjoying a fruity cocktail or two.

After checking in, and waiting for far too long for our bags to be delivered up to our rooms, we went in search of a little snack of wine and cheese.

Giggling during stories of toys and QVC-like ways to sell them, watched like a train-wreck during the ski weekends many of us had recently shared.

At one point we were a bit horrified by what the waiter overheard. Until we realized he has probably heard worse, much worse. After all, he is a waiter in Vegas.

We returned to our rooms and some of us primped, while some of us napped (me).

Then headed out to a club for the night, completely suspicious of the VIP cards the guy handed us at the pool. Expecting to have to wait in a very long line, we weren't too worried about finding our friend whose flight had been delayed considerably.

A minute later we were about to head into the club free of charge with our passes, a bit surprised that our VIP was actually working. I excused myself from line to wait for our friend.

Once she arrived, we headed inside, and up some stairs. And up more stairs, and up more even yet. Past floor after floor of club, unsure where they were sending us, or how we'd ever find our friends in this enormous club.

We finally were on the roof. I started to pick my phone out of my purse in hopes someone felt the vibration from a Where are you? text, when I saw them, standing close to the bar, looking a little bored.

We grabbed a drink and joined them. Trying to talk over the music, dancing some, despite the bachelorette's wounded knee. Mostly gawking at the outfits. We dressed in some of our best going out in Vegas attire, and still we were a bit frumpy compared to the crowd.

The music was great, and several of us were having a bit of fun, but our bride was not. So we left, thinking we would return after finding a little dinner.

That never happened. The many drinks of the day and the sleep deprivation set in, and resting up for the bigger night seemed like the way to go. Apparently as one of the girls said, our old was acting up.

silly slogan

We had a slogan for the weekend. One I shudder to type, as it may very well get the wrong sort of person stopping by. But the way we came up with it is funny, so I suppose the story should be told...

When shopping with the bachelorette before the trip, another friend who was meeting us for the weekend asked me what we were all taking to wear. I texted her back something to the effect of, We're porn shopping. Then said something about e-mailing her the following day with what we were packing.

If you know me, know my friends, particularly this friend, you would know how absolutely silly this comment is. We talked about "Vegas" outfits, which although a bit risque for us, would be very normal, not at all risque, in Vegas.

And so, when the first two of us arrived at the airport, I texted the bachelorette and our other friend arriving shortly afterward. I of course started off with Vegas baby! And then began to type that we were sitting by such-and-such baggage claim.

Well, you know how your phone predicts the next word you might want to type?

Right. So, when I began with we're, my phone predicted I wished to next write porn. From the exchange during the shopping trip.

I showed my friend, and we started laughing, outrageously, because in our got-no-sleep-before-our-crack-of-dawn-flight state, it was about the funniest thing ever.

And we had our slogan for the weekend. We're porn.

Ha. Ha ha.

what happens in Vegas

... wait, what happened in Vegas?

Some don't remember, some prefer not to say, some just grin slyly, making those that ask imagine the worst.

And that's just fine with me.

We had a fantastic time. There are stories. Some I will tell, some I can't. They're not mine to tell.

Right now I have to drag myself to work. It's going to be a long day.

frogs in Vegas

An evening of excruciating swimsuit shopping. Made bearable by the sweet sales girl at the swimsuit shop and the incredibly nice women in the dressing room insisting I buy the awesome dress and top for Vegas.

Closing the mall for the second night in a row. I left feeling slightly defeated. (Don't get me started on how much I hate shopping when I have a deadline and something in mind that should exist, but doesn't.)

When I finally got home, there was a package on my doorstep. What had I ordered? Nothing that I recalled.

It was a book. Trish's book. My little invitation to board the Team Frog Tour Bus.

So, at 1am, after I finished work that had to be done by this morning. I did something I rarely do when not on vacation, I crawled into bed and opened to the first page.

Forty some pages later, I forced myself to put it down and get some sleep.

I already know I love her writing style. And relate to her life (at least as portrayed on her blog), perhaps a little too well, but so far the book is even better than I'd anticipated. I can't wait to read more.

So, for my trip tomorrow, not only do I have a great new dress, sassy "Vegas top", 2 new swimsuits (neither of which I love), but a book I'm actually looking forward to reading.

Stay tuned for my review and/or Q&A with Trish. But based on solely the first few chapters, I highly suggest that you get out and get yourself a copy of He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not!

I'll be reading it poolside between naps tomorrow, while we wait for our rooms to be ready. Although I must admit, I am looking forward to kissing a frog or two this weekend. It is Vegas afterall.

Happy Earth Day

weekend respite

It's over. Finally.

I finally feel like I have time to breathe.

After we wrapped up the technical back-and-forth on Friday, I enjoyed a margarita with my fellow board members. We congratulated each other on a job well done.

Very well done, in my completely unbiased opinion.

Declining various offers of another margarita, we got everything packed up. Then I headed home to quickly pack some more.

Up to the mountains one more weekend. This time without the girls. No one else staying with me but TheDog. To relax and hit one more area's last weekend.

I joined my sis-in-law for skiing on Saturday. Enjoying the perfect bluebird skies. Although the sunshine made for a little too much slush, it was just what I needed. As I've said before, as long as there are boards on my feet and snow (or something like it) beneath them, I'm happy.

Apres ski, my sis-in-law and I headed out to listen to a little Robert Randolph and people watch. It was a beautiful day. Followed by a fun night. Playing with my nieces. Dinner. And a viewing of Awake.

Sunday was a solo day. To recharge and relax. Before a long week, which is actually a short one. More outrageous fun planned for next weekend.

falling short

Asked by a friend why I let his text bother me, the only response I could come up with was I don't know. I also don't know why sitting in the sunshine on the deck gazing out at snow-covered peaks a few days ago, the thought that popped into my head was of him.

That he would have enjoyed the day. The sun. The beer on the deck.

I enjoyed the day. It was amazing. The company was amazing. But sitting across from another, laughing at his jokes, only made me wish it were him.

Therein lies my answer. Although I'm working on it, I'm not yet completely over him.

That's why it still bothers me. That's why his words hurt still. Why hearing from him still makes me sad, makes me miss him. Why his offers of friendship, although always abandoned soon after, only remind me of how he always said the right words only to be followed by his actions falling short.

a few reminders

Kept up by an old man's uncomfortable cries. Sleeping through the alarm. Leaving late for work.

None of that a big deal. Until the text calling me on it. Three words, making me a little sad and a little mad at the same time.

He's still tugging the strings. Two months later. He's still checking in on me. It bothered me. For a while. Then I got a few calls from other guys.

One to pick up the old man, because that's what friends do. Another to plan our trip in a little over a month. Another a continuation of our conversation over the weekend.

Each of them calling me out on little things in our conversations.

Reminders that guys, and friends, don't make you mad or sad, even when they're teasing you.

A reminder that everyone needs friends at times. Now go tell my good friend Happy Birthday, even if he doesn't want to hear it.

photo Friday #8

Mountain View

Berthoud Pass, Colorado
(March, 2008)

As a well spent day brings happy sleep,
so life well used brings happy death.

Leonardo Da Vinci

thinking of you

Concentration is eluding me. There is one week until the big day. The pinnacle of my last year. And I don't really care anymore. There's too much family stuff going on. More important than my job and work other than work .

I've been spending lots of time with my mom. My sister had no interest in joining us when we asked her to long ago, before she was expecting. But now she's mad. Jealous even.

I think it's simply because she doesn't feel well. At all. She doesn't like the things we've been doing, anyway. But she's being horrible to me. And to my mom.

We're both just trying to let her be frustrated. But it's not easy. And it's really not easy on my mom.

Over soup and salad tonight, my mom and I talked about her. About how tough it must be for her to be so sick. We feel badly for her, but it's tough to be there for someone that keeps pushing you away.

Then the conversation turned to Gran. It's almost been a year since she left us. Sometimes it's as if it all happened yesterday. I miss her so. We all miss her so.

Tonight after my mom headed home, I decided I needed to send a few flowers. To my sis, to help her feel better, and to thank her for TheDog-sitting while I gallivant about this weekend. And to my mom. On Saturday. Just to let her know I'm thinking about her.

update

Thank you everyone for your well wishes for my sister and the wee one. She's home from the hospital, but still not feeling that much better. At least baby is doing well. Even if mom feels terrible.

Other entertaining stories soon. Promise.

to be sure

My mom e-mailed to tell me my brother-in-law had taken my sister to the hospital. I immediately called his cell. No answer. I called my parents. My mom answered.

Supposedly she's alright. Just ridiculously dehydrated from "morning" sickness.

I plan to stop by after my meeting anyway. To be sure. I'm sure I should cancel my meeting, as I won't be able to concentrate. But getting it over with so it's not hanging over my head might be better.

lapse into pathetic

It tasted so wonderful. And it wasn't even my favorite kind. But apparently a nearly two-month hiatus from all kinds will make any kind taste like nectar from the gods.

Although it was only a beer. It was delicious.

Perhaps made even better by being free. And the exchanges of laughter and the entertaining stories that accompanied it.

Inevitably, the crowd started to dwindle until it was only two. My friend (and boss) and I. We talked for a bit until he mentioned he had to get home to his wife and kids.

I said I needed to get home to TheDog. Then in my one-beer tipsiness, I blathered on about how lame it is that all I have is a dog that wants to see me at the end of the day.

It wasn't until I was in my car on my way home that I realized just how utterly pathetic my blathering was. And how lonely I felt, when everyone else I work with had somewhere to go or someone to see, and I just had a dog to feed.

Not that the woe-is-me lasted all that long, but I'm sure it sounded just that way to my friend.

losing it

I kept hearing something downstairs. Like something or someone was moving around down there.

I mentally assessed what would happen if it were like the last time. But I knew that I set the alarm before I went to bed. And locked the steel part of the doggie door. So it couldn't be.

But I kept hearing the noises. I was too tired, or perhaps just too scared, to do anything more than check to be sure it wasn't TheDog, as she was asleep at the foot of my bed, and grab the tazer out of my bedside table.

Yes, I now sleep with a tazer next to my bed. And no, I don't want someone to ever get close enough that I need to use it, but it sure helps me to sleep when I imagine someone walking around in my own house. Uninvited.

After trying for many hours, I finally fell asleep.

This morning, I double-checked, and the alarm was indeed on. Doggie door locked. And nothing seemed to be amiss.

When I was getting ready to leave, I could not find my keys anywhere. So, I disarmed the alarm, and checked the front door. Which I had apparently left unlocked. Not that that mattered, because I had, indeed, left the keys in the door.

Maybe I should be a little less concerned with strangers coming through doggie doors and setting off my alarm in the middle of the night. And more concerned with someone walking right through the front door. Not only because I forgot to lock it, but because I invited the neighborhood with my keys swinging in the lock.

photo Friday #7

Rainbow in Paradise

Maui, Hawaii
(April, 2005)

Everyone chases after happiness,
not noticing that happiness is at their heels.

Bertolt Brecht

exhaustion

The only word that comes to mind. My weekend was even exhausting. Even my day off before was. Good exhausting. Friends and family exhausting. Baby shower and Easter brunch with extended family exhausting.

Work, and work other than work are more than exhausting. But work should lighten up after next week. And three more for work other than work.

Then I'll sleep. Hopefully.

auntie

There we were, mother and daughters, in a baby store, of all places. And none of us knew what anything was.

Many didn't exist when my mom became a mom. And my sister and I have no idea what most are, despite our years of babysitting.

But this trip was unlike all the other such day-before-baby-shower trips I'd made. Sure, we were there for my sister-in-law. Which is very fun, because we got to buy cool stuff for our nephew.

I'd never been to a baby store with my mom and sis before. Which seems a little weird. But after Friday we know that sort of trip will be a little more frequent.

As we began our shower preparations at my sister's house that morning, she let us know that she was expecting.

Not that I'm not excited to be an aunt to my oldest brother's two daughters and my older brother's soon-to-be son, I am. But this is completely different.

I absolutely cannot wait to be the spoiling auntie I know I can be, that my brother's wives won't let me be. This will be fun.

lingering effect

Just as we were finishing up our margaritas, as I was finishing up my story of how the last one ended, my phone beeped. I ignored it, assuming it was just my brother again.

But then he got up to use the facilities, and I checked it. Fully prepared for a smart-ass remark back to my brother.

The name that came up made my breath catch a little.

Sitting there with my friend telling the story of him, I'd realized it was the first I'd thought of him in a while. And when the story came up the familiar heartache wasn't present.

But seeing his name changed that. Seeing his witty text I suddenly felt a bit small. Insignificant.

My friend and I said our goodbyes. And although I was supposed to meet other friends out, I wasn't that sad when no one answered my calls.

The questions started creeping in. As much as I tried to force them out. Mostly why? Why does he still have this effect on me?

to plan a trip

My "weekend" started with a quick drink with a friend. To start the planning for our upcoming trip. My third. Trip, not drink. These days I can only handle one. Drink, not trip.

Our friendship has been rough at times. After the trip last year I almost wrote the friendship off completely. But our hanging out since and our planning get-together changed that.

Drinks turned into dinner. Conversation was easy. We talked about everything. How excited we both were for the trip. Laughing about our previous shenanigans. Planning future ones. Even talked about who each of us had been dating. Which had never been an open topic for us before.

He is a great friend. Always was. I just finally remembered what he asked of me once. To always call him on his bs, if he ever starts it up again. I forgot last Spring. I won't let it happen again. Our friendship means too much to me for that.

working on it

I can't even begin to describe the craziness of this weekend. Of the end of last week. So I won't. Not tonight.

Tonight I will get some sleep so that I resemble a human being tomorrow. So that perhaps tomorrow I can begin to describe the goings on of the past few days.

Nothing too earth-shattering. Just lots and lots of busy and some great news.

photo Friday #6

Spring

Colorado
(May 2006)

He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and
walk and run and climb and dance; one cannot fly into flying.

Friedrich Nietzsche

actually asked the question

I love me a great John Cusack movie. I love, LOVE High Fidelity. Music slant helps, of course. The wandering through his top five girlfriends to figure out maybe where he went wrong, or maybe where he went right, always strikes a chord.

I do this, too. Particularly around break-up time. I start wondering. Start what-if-ing. Start questioning if I am a good girlfriend.

The last one told me I was a great girlfriend. But he kicked me to the curb anyway. So it begs the question be asked. But, of who?

With most of my exes, if I asked them that question, their hubris would have them believe I wanted them back. Which is actually not the case with any. Not even the last one, after how it ended.

But there's one. One I truly am still friends with, who was the best boyfriend I ever had, who lives over a thousand miles away. Who would not ever imagine I was trying to get back together with him. Because although it was great, it never would have lasted, and we both knew that.

So, in a moment of wanting to be a better person, better girlfriend to the next, more happy with the next, I asked him if I was a good girlfriend. And this was his answer, only slightly edited:

You are/were the best girlfriend I have ever had.

Caring, sharing, honest, smart, beautiful, great *****, great smile, great attitude, kicked *** driving, skiing, partying, I don't know, I don't see a thing wrong with you.

Were you a good girlfriend?

Nope.

You were the best a guy could ever ask for.

He then went on to say that he couldn't think of anything I did wrong, that maybe I should look at the guys I'm choosing to date. I think he's onto something there. I just don't know how to meet better ones, not that I've been meeting any at all.

under the influence

It's a question from a grade school essay, I'm sure. But it keeps getting repeated. In job interviews, in random conversation, in online dating questionnaires.

Who has most influenced you?

Way back when, when I wanted to impress teachers, and likely my dad, I used to say things like Einstein and Leonardo daVinci. And I'm sure it's still a little true today. Yes, I'm that much of a nerd.

But now I'd be much more apt to say friends, family and a handful of teachers. I talk about my friends' influence all the time. And I've described my family's influences. But the teachers I rarely mention.

There was my advisor in grad school. In college there were my coach, my academic advisor, and my Oceanography and Asian Religions Profs. In high school there were my coaches, the yearbook advisor/English teacher and my Sociology/Psychology teacher.

But the three biggest influences in all of my learning years were my 7th grade science and 9th grade Biology teacher (same guy), my 6th grade and 3rd grade teachers.

Last night I was lucky enough to get to talk to one over dinner. To realize she thinks I'm as memorable as I think she is. My third grade teacher and I had a conversation in which she remembered my favorite books from twenty some odd years ago.

I truly believe she was the teacher that really solidified my love of reading and writing. That made me realize with a little hard work, nearly everything is possible.

I'm so very happy my mom started teaching in our old school with her. That they became friends. That she still hangs out with my mom, and by extension me.

Sometimes it takes a little dinner conversation with a couple of women who helped to make you who you are to remind you exactly who that is. Thanks Mom and Mrs. R.

re-focus

Usually focus is a good thing. Usually I determine that there's something I want, and I figure out what I need to do to get it. But lately I think I may be too focused. And then there's the problem of not really knowing how to go about getting what I want.

It's so much easier when it has to do with things that are straight-forward. Like work. Or play. Or most everything.

What's not easy is having to figure out others. With work it's easy. If someone doesn't do what you want or need, you figure out a way around that, find someone who can do or give you what you need.

With other things it doesn't work. With planning surprise birthday gatherings or shower presents. With dating. You rely on others that you have no sway over. People who aren't committed to a common goal.

I've always been good about helping friends, family and others to see that my goals are beneficial to everyone. But lately it's not working. My goals seem to have diverged from everyone else's. Guys, family, friends. They all are looking for something different than I am. And I don't know what to do. I don't know how to re-focus, or if I even should.

green day

Happy St. Patty's Day!

I'm a little bit Irish, and not just on St. Patty's Day, like some. But as such, I like to gather friends to celebrate this time of year.

Friday the girls headed out for happy hour. For hours we laughed and talked and teased the guys at the end of the table who were borrowing a few chairs until the rest of our friends showed up.

Saturday some of the same friends headed downtown. In the past the downtown weekend before St. Patty's day festivities have been entertaining for J and I. It's when I met 24. It's when we met the cute doctors. So I was excited to see what might await us this year.

We began by watching the parade for a bit, then headed for lunch. The crazy tented celebration was nearly as entertaining as in years past. But except for J, my friends didn't appreciate it as much, and J had to leave early.

Despite my more mellow day, I enjoyed hanging out with my friends. Enjoyed running into work friends and old friends and new friends. Even though I had been in the mood for a crazy time, as in years past. I guess I may have to wait for next month's Vegas excursion with the girls to partake in the crazy.

photo Friday #5

Snowy Park near the Hudson

New York
(February 2008)

Unless you try to do something beyond what you have already
mastered, you will never grow.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

the sun will come out

It started out windy. And a little cold. But the sun came out as we ran into another friend with her dog. A beautiful walk with a great friend, TheDog, and my sister's dog.

A mostly sunny evening in the park following a great meeting. Then dinner with my mom.

Some days, even the very heavy weight of work obligations and other problems can be easily lifted by a feeling of confidence and competence. By visiting with wonderful friends. By Talking with my mom and sister.

I get to get officially told they're disappointed in me, in my performance tomorrow. And I'm not looking forward to it. But at least I got the reassurance of other options after my meeting this afternoon.

what we like

I don't do this too often, but this once I couldn't resist.

Why do we like outdoor clothing, shorts whenever it's above 40 degrees, vintage T's? We, of course, being white people.

Kristy pointed me to a gem of a site. And by me I of course mean all of the zillions of iifs who read her blog. I laughed out loud. So if you, like me, need a little laugh, mostly at yourself, check out Stuff White People Like.

You'll (most likely) thank me.

tired or grumpy

I was home working, when they called. The were headed to the second bar. Where earlier I'd said I would love to meet them. But I was exhausted, so I almost didn't venture out. The doc had said only earlier today that I needed to sleep more. Relax more.

I was prepared to follow doctors orders. If only I hadn't been the one who had earlier talked them into a second bar. So after I let the call go to voicemail, I contemplated, but then the guilt got the better of me and I called them back.

Fifteen minutes later I was on my way. Before I had even sat down one of the girls said that I looked grumpy. Grumpy? No. Tired? Definitely. But I will have to work on my tired face if it really makes me look grumpy.

Over beer and wine we started hatching our plans. Plans for this weekend. Plans for the upcoming bachelorette trip.

The trip will be fun. Mostly friends from college with a few other of the bride's friends that I already know. And perfect timing. The weekend after the major event I've been working on for nearly the past year.

I can relax and sleep more then. That is, if I make it to then.

not boring

It's been an interesting week so far. Last minute dinner invitations to crash another family's weekly dinner. A river permit appearing in the mail. Calls from old friends. Walks with the dog and a friend. And a text from the boy. It certainly hasn't been dull.

Yes, an out of the blue text from the boy. My friends all tell me I should not be nice to him. They may very well be right. But I just don't know how. It will be my downfall yet, this not being able to be mean to even those who may deserve it.

But I don't have time to worry about it now. Work and work other than work are keeping me very busy. And there are things to look forward to. Interesting possibilities. A river trip. Other trips with friends.

I probably will respond. Eventually. But it has nothing to do with what he thinks about me. It has everything to do with what I think of myself.

quality family time

I left straight from work to head South. Dinner with the family for my Dad's birthday. A marathon restaurant excursion that tried everyone's nerves just a little.

Slow from the beginning, we had plenty of time to share stories and scheme for upcoming celebrations. From my sister's upcoming birthday surprise to my sister-in-law's baby shower.

My favorite story was whispered to me by my niece. She leaned in and told me that she zig-zagged all the way down the mountain. Her proud beam was mirrored back at her. I've skied with her a couple of times, but for her to make it down from the top was something.

Of course she's learning on the very same mountain that we all learned on. I don't remember when my brothers started, but I was three, and my sister was not quite when she learned. Quite the tradition.

We moved from our corner of the restaurant to my parents' house. (I say our corner, as I'm fairly certain in the amount of time it took them to serve us that we would have been granted adverse possession in some states.)

Over ice cream and my sister's delicious homemade cherry pie, we watched my dad open his cards and gifts. A few even made him tear up a little.

Then it hit me. The worst part about our service at the restaurant. Not that it took nearly three hours to serve us. Not that lattes ordered when we sat down arrived after the appetizers. But that our waitress, although nice, was completely incompetent.

My request that she double-check with the kitchen on everything we ordered to see if something might cause an allergic reaction was either ignored or not taken seriously. She assured me nothing I had ordered had any, that nothing my mom had ordered had any, since we shared. I even refrained from trying the appetizers, as her answer on those was rather uncertain.

Unfortunately, my twisting and turning stomach and immediate need to spend time with the porcelain goddess instead of my dad on his birthday made me certain. The waitress was not only so incompetent at her job that my entire family ate (but not drank) for free, but she caused me hours and hours of feeling terrible.

At least the time I did get to spend with the family was great. Even if I missed a bit of it, and missed a show I wanted to see later that night. Will my luck ever change?

photo Friday #4

Snowy Day
New York
(February 2008)

One word frees us of all the weight and pain in life.
That word is love.

Sophocles

sun and snow

Driving back and forth to the mountains twice in one weekend, so I could hang out with work friends old and new. Everyone thought I was crazy. Skipping the beautiful ski day to attend a good friend's shower back down in the city then heading back up.

But I wanted to hang out with everyone Friday night. It's always the fun night. And it was, just luckily not quite as fun as in years past. As I had to get up ridiculously early.

It was a beautiful day. Record high beautiful. Talking and laughing with the girls beautiful. Flowery shower decorations beautiful. It would have been a gorgeous day on the slopes, but some things are one time things.

Then back up the hill for potluck dinner and Cranium. The party has mellowed over the years. But it's times like these that remind me I really like the people I work with.

Skiing with my best friend at work in the fresh powder Sunday almost made the cold, snowy weather and long drive home worthwhile.

little trip to the big city

The rain streaked the window as we awaited our turn. The drops had started falling sometime after being dropped off, yet before walking the line to the plane. It was almost as if the tears I felt but could not yet cry were falling from the sky.

The sadness set in as I settled into my seat, knowing there was no one looking forward to my return. Leaving the warmth of my college roommate's kitchen and family. Leaving good friends I wish lived sloser. Finishing up my long-anticipated trip.

I know I have great friends here. But no one quite gets me like she does. Staying up for hours just talking. She said she wished she'd planned something more exciting for my visit. But just hanging out with her was exactly what I needed.

Don't get me wrong, we certainly didn't just sit around. We had coffee in the snow-covered park by the river*, and a lovely lunch at a cozy cafe. We admired the fishies at the aquarium with her husband and kids. We enjoyed great food, even some I actually helped cook. Not to mention a bit of time spent playing with her kids.

They even got a sitter so that we could all go to dinner, two of my best college friends and their husbands, and me, the fifth wheel. Sharing stories and cocktails. P being the only one that didn't go to college with us, but joining in the conversation, just as if he had. I felt glaringly odd-wheeled only in my own mind, since it was a trip originally concocted by the boy, to be taken together.

That was the second leg of the visit. The first part started with wine and cheese on a lovely afternoon in Brooklyn. Waking up to a bit of snow. And deciding, some of my see-the-city plans would have to wait for another visit. Which was all-together fine with me.

Before we left Brooklyn and the City behind and headed north on the train, M & P took me to eat at fantastic restaurants. We indulged in many wonderful glasses of wine and perhaps a few too many strawberry-infused vodka drinks. P was patient with my slow progress through the photography exhibits at the Met. And of course we talked about everything.

An amazing, low-key visit. Just what I needed.

I even began and finished Eat, Pray, Love on the trip. An interesting read, particularly given the timing. The story added to my melancholy as I sat on the plane waiting to go home. It reminded me of all I do have. And of all I don't.

My life is full of so many amazing things. Friends, family, TheDog, traveling, hobbies, even my job, but I realize that I'm still not quite there. That place I want to be.

I know that some of my married friends are a little envious of my freedom, just as I am a little envious of their knowledge of who their next traveling companion will definitely be. It all sounds a bit familiar.

It was truly a wonderful trip. I love visiting with my friends. I just hope the sadness I felt as I sat on the plane heading home didn't permeate my mood while I was there. Because being there was just what I needed. My relaxing trip really did make me happy.

* I do have a few photos to share, despite the predominant gray while I was there. I just haven't had time to download them.

photo Friday #3

St. Elmo
Colorado
(Auguet 2007)

The life of the individual only has meaning insofar as it aids in making the life of every living thing nobler and more beautiful. Life is sacred, that is to say, it is the supreme value to which all other values are subordinate.

Albert Einstein

so wrong

Perhaps I am naive. I know I've been naive about friendships, relationships, even jobs. This is a new one, though.

I actually thought restaurant week was an opportunity for restaurants to show off a little, attract a few new customers. Apparently I was wrong. Very wrong.

I was only going to be in town for two nights of the entire week, so I made reservations weeks ago. One night with the boy, one with the girls.

Obviously I had to find a new "date" for last night, to check out arestaurant where I've enjoyed appetizers and salads before, but never a full dinner. Despite their new spot on iPhone's ads, at least for their Aspen location, Campo de Fiori's Restaurant Week menu fell short.

My salad was fantastic, but my friends' calamari was chewy and our pasta dishes and desserts were just not good. The service was great, as well as the company, so I wasn't too disappointed. S assured me their dinners are usually fantastic. So perhaps I may try it again.

So, tonight we tried Opal for girls' night out. We arrived promptly for our 8pm reservation, and we didn't leave the restaurant for nearly 3 hours. Seriously. And not because we were lingering over coffee, because I'm quite certain we would have never received it even if we'd ordered it.

We were seated quickly, but drinks, and water even, were hard to come by. Our waiter took exception to my request to see the wine menu. He seemed frazzled, but we appeared to be one of perhaps two tables he was waiting on.

I will grant that our food was fantastic. But it took far too long to serve the entire table. With our desserts being delivered more than 15 minutes apart. By this point, we were literally the only table in the entire restaurant. We had to hunt down our waiter with our credit cards, as he was nowhere to be found.

As we walked out, we realized the valet was gone, so I asked the gentleman who appeared to be the manager where my friends' keys might be. He fetched them from the bar for us, and as he was checking their tickets (yes, even though we were the last three people in the place), I asked if he was the manager.

When he said yes, I shared with him our experience of the pathetic service. He began to make excuses and explain it away with some story about turning tables away because it was restaurant week. I simply told him that I've worked in the restaurant business, and as he was the manager, I though he would want to know about the terrible service we received.

He didn't seem the least bit phased.

I will never go back. Not after having our concerns dismissed so easily by the manager. I don't care if it is restaurant week, and they think that is a pain. If a restaurant doesn't want to do it, it's simple. Don't. It shouldn't matter if we may have received a slight discount on our meals. This was the manager's opportunity to apologize to us, and perhaps win a few repeat customers.

Several of the girls had been there before and loved it, but after the service tonight, and the horrific condition of the restroom, they will likely not go back.

Seems to me it makes more sense to skip participating in restaurant week than to do it poorly. Or in Opal's case, extremely poorly. But perhaps I'm just being naive. Again.

inspiration void

Still not inspired to write about my trip. Could be that the stories aren't all that exciting for others to read. Could be that I think I'm coming down with the flu. Could be the mountains of work waiting for me. Or the mountains of baby shower invitations and such also waiting.

Could be that my brain is still hung up on a few things the boy said lately. And whether or not they dignify any response at all.

Could simply be I have yet to download my pictures. Not that I was inspired to take all that many. It was cold and snowy. Which normally lends to fabulous pictures, but not when it's grey, cold and snowy. We'll see how the few I did take turn out.

half asleep

I'm home. But absolutely exhausted. Not that it wasn't a fantastic trip. Not that I did much besides relax in the company of amazing friends for the last six days.

But somehow traveling home, the book I read, the messages before, during and after my trip stole every last ounce of my energy.

Sleeping in my own bed will help. As will just being home. If only TheDog were back from her spa vacation to keep me company.

behind the words

I know I've said it a thousand times, but I love my friends. Some of them must be somewhat psychic. They somehow know to call, e-mail, IM or text me just when I need it most. A quick check-in to see how I'm doing.

With some I know to answer that I'm getting by. With some I can be honest and tell them flat out that I'm actually feeling rather crappy.

The ones I can be honest with are the ones who don't tell me to just get over it. They don't question my vodka intake on Saturday night. They understand if I ask him what happened, or if I decide not to acknowledge him ever again, whichever I decide I need to do*. They don't tell me I must meet guys out or get my profile back online immediately. They understand my need to feel sad for a little while.

All of my friends tell me I deserve better, and of course, they're all right.

Everyone just has their own way of dealing with getting over someone. Mine is not to simply turn it off. I like to think about it, at least for a little while. Try and commit to memory both the great and not-so-great things about the relationship. Mostly so I can do my best to not repeat the not-so-great next time.

I'm heading to New York in a few short hours, with my new camera as my traveling companion. To see great friends. Great friends who will let me either talk about it or just forget, whichever suits me at the time.

* He texted tonight and said he was sorry, he can't give me what I want and deserve. Who is he to think he knows what I want? As far as deserve? I definitely deserve better, at the very least someone who tells me to my face that it isn't working for him. When he figures it out, not after a nearly a week of silence. Meaning the sorry at least a little bit. Feeling terrible that he treated another human being so poorly, much less someone he used to care about deeply.

cheer a girl up

There's been an emptiness in my life. For a long time. Something missing. Or some things missing.

I've tried to fill it through various means. Diversions. Distractions.

Some kept me busy for a while. Others didn't even begin to fill the hole. None seemed to work completely.

Finally the papers came along with a bit towards getting things back to where they were. It would never truly be back. But this would help a bit.

I knew what I needed to do. I knew exactly what I wanted. And I knew exactly where to get it.

It would make me happy, help me to forget the last week. Forget the pain I'd been feeling for even longer.

What cheers every girl up? Why, shopping, of course.

But for me it's not typical retail therapy, it's a trip to my favorite camera store. Finally.

stop believing

Friends at work indulging me with you're better offs and a glass of red with my lunch. My mom insisting that even though she liked him, he wasn't the one for me. My sister calling him a fool when she said she'd watch TheDog for the night.

I know they were all trying to make me feel better, but I'd rather just not think about it. Which is why I neglected the work I should have caught up on over the weekend and headed for the hills.

Some of the girls were heading up. A free place to stay. The promise of a few turns and a few drinks made me change my mind.

The flirting with a cute guy helped me to nearly forget why I so badly needed to get out of town in the first place. Flirting enabled by too-much-vodka. We had an interesting conversation. He leaned in for a kiss. He said he would call tonight.

I should really stop believing what guys say.

stop it please

I honestly cannot believe that those may very well be the last three words I ever hear from him.

A guy who I thought might be my one. A guy with whom I spent some of the best months I can remember. A guy who told me he'd always talk to me.

A guy who is apparently a complete coward.

It's been three days since he wrote those words after I called and he was shorter than short with me. Annoyed with me for asking him if he was alright. Annoyed with me for being disappointed he had to cancel our silly plans on the silly red heart day.

Perhaps he was annoyed with me for other things. Perhaps he had been hoping his jerk-like ways lately would get me to break up with him. I may never know.

Half of me wants to insist he explain. The other half doesn't even care anymore. Half of me incredulously checks to see if he's finally called or texted. The other half of me doesn't know if or how I'll respond even if he does.

All of me knows I deserve someone who wants to be with me. And all of me spent the weekend with family, great friends, good food, tasty beverages, and perhaps a few other interesting diversions.

photo Friday #2

Ski Day
Colorado
(January 2008)

That best portion of a good man's life;
his little, nameless, unremembered
acts of kindness and love.

William Wordsworth
(1770-1850, British Poet)

once a fool

I got wished a heartfelt Happy Valentine's Day by just about everyone but the one person I really wanted to hear it from. Sure he had significant issues at work. And sure he said it this morning on a little screen.

But it's not the same. Despite our plans, I spent my night solo. I just wish I mattered at least as much as his job, or his friend in need.

Valentine's Day cards from a friend far away and my sister. A quick IM exchange with a friend going through a similar thing. A smile from a cute guy. And the promise of a little present to myself tomorrow made it not so bad.

I know, I know I'm a fool. But I think I figured out my minimum requirement.

for now

It's always so reassuring when someone seems to be going through a similar situation. You root for them. Even hope their situation works out as you hope yours will. But you can sometimes see things in another's you're too close to see in your own.

Every new post of Betty's, I root for her. Hope she finds what she's looking for. And think I know what she should and shouldn't do. I realize I know the paragraph synopsis and not the whole story, so I usually keep my opinions to myself.

But I'm very glad she often shares hers. She always seems to reassure me, ask the right questions. Her last comment was a question of how little is not enough.

I haven't completely worked that all out for myself with the boy. I know what we did have was definitely enough. What we have now, is enough for right now, but not for long-term.

We have plans for tomorrow, nothing elaborate, but low-key suits me just fine. And I have reservations for us for restaurant week. Which he happily agreed to do.

For now, I'm alright with making plans, so long as he is excited to do them. Spontaneous plans on his part, like he used to, would be great.

But for now, wanting to be with me is enough. Although I hope we find what we used to have again. Soon.

cutting advice

Some say the only person that knows more about you than your bartender is your hairdresser. Since I don't have a bartender anymore, I guess my hairdresser is the one.

As he cut my flirty hair (his term, not mine), we talked about relationships. He insisted I stop letting the boy get away with giving me less than I want. He told me to either stop complaining that I want more, or do something about it.

He later said I may never have a longer relationship with any guy than I've had with him.

At least he was right on one point.

red heart hope

I knew I was going to have to ask. Have to clarify our situation. But I almost didn't want to. I almost preferred to just go with having fun and not worrying about what the future held.

Sometimes when I get comfortable I don't mind the status quo, don't want to rock the boat. But I knew the time was coming when I had to find out.

Lately I'm the only one insisting on plans. I don't know if it's because he doesn't want to, or if he's too busy, or if he's just gotten used to me doing the planning.

But his showing interest in what we do, trying to plan things, is important to me. Some days, in particular. So I took a deep breathe and asked him.

Do we have plans for Thursday?

Of course what I meant was did you make plans for Valentine's Day. And his response was simply he didn't know, he had to work until fill-in-the-blank time.

Not exactly the sweet plans I had hoped for. Is it asking so much for my boyfriend to want to do something special with me on the silly red-heart holiday?

where I need to be

I played hooky today. At least part of today. What's the big deal you ask? It's Sunday, after all. But with the week I have stretching out in front of me, it was everything.

It all started at the beginning of my weekend. After thouroughly enjoying my sushi date Friday night with the boy (don't think that's just the Malbec talking), I slept in until the decadent hour of 8am. TheDog was beside herself at my lateness, but calmed down once she realized a walk was in her near future.

We met a friend for coffee mid-way through our walk, then I left TheDog to her nap, and headed to work. My friend was busy at her computer, although she let me distract her long enough to wrangle an invitation to a movie and late lunch with her friends today. I told her I would if I got far enough along on my report.

After she left, I put my nose to the grindstone until it hurt. And until I had to leave to play wing-woman for friends at a singles party.

I woke up early this morning, quickly walked TheDog for coffee, and headed into the office. I hadn't heard back from my friend, so I figured the movie plans had fallen through, and resigned myself to knocking out my report.

The text came through with just enough time to get to the theater. Although the movie wasn't as funny as we'd hoped, the conversation over fondue was better, despite being the only non-mommy. The you-have-to-hear-what-Johnny-dids only took up half the conversation.

But the time spent not at work was wonderful. Particularly with my work friend who I rarely get to see these days outside of the office. And out of the office is exactly where I needed to be.

photo Friday #1

San Felipe de Neri Church
Albuquerque, NM
(November 2007)

and yet

The days melt into one another, blending together.
Yet each stretches out far too long, never seems to end.

Nowhere near enough time to get everything done.
Yet too much time to think, too much time to wonder.

Everything seems to happen all at once.
Yet the times of nothing reach out into infinity.

Nothing, no one seems to be able to elicit a smile.
Yet one waggle, one nudge, can make everything alright.

have your cake and eat it too

She was from New Orleans. To me that seemed exotic, unusual. A different country almost. Our freshman year, as we shared a dorm room, we shared tales of our short histories.

My stories were down to earth. Tame.

Her stories were anything but. The different culture that is the city of New Orleans. And the tales of Mardi Gras. Of weeks off from school. Of the parades and crew balls.

And then it came in the mail. Express delivered from her mom. King Cake.

I never knew quite how a wreath shaped braid of dough with purple, green and yellow sugar sprinkles, with a tiny baby inside could be so absolutely delicious.

In the years that followed my introduction to Mardi Gras, I've been to New Orleans many times. Even for Mardi Gras a couple. Gone out to celebrate Fat Tuesday in other cities.

None quite compare to King Cake in a dorm room with one of my life-long best friends hearing her tales of the celebration and the city.

Happy Mardi Gras!

could go either way

I'm torn between just throwing in the towel and trying my best to help things to improve, being the absolute best I can be.

There are many reasons behind why I think I should do both. Some important some nearly ridiculous. But regardless of importance, there are many on each side. And the reasons keep piling up, on both sides. So I'm having a tough time figuring out on which side my decision should lie.

So far there seems to be no definitive answer. I suppose I'm waiting for something to tilt the balance. Help me make a decision one way or the other. Good thing patience is one thing I have plenty of.

all work

They don't necessarily get along with each other. But I love them all. My friends. All different. All dear to me for their differences. I spent most of my free time this weekend with two of them. We talked about jobs and boys and life.

One joined me for happy hour Friday, which I really needed. I've known her for over two decades, and she read between the lines of my happy hour e-mail plea to my friends and knew I needed to go out. See friends. Vent a little. She did, too, so it worked well.

We met again the next morning for coffee, with TheDog, and to swap books. She's been reading a bit on her break between jobs, and I've been looking for a good book. So we exchanged recently read favorites and talked about what the other should do about their respective boy situation.

Walking home I realized my boy situation isn't as bad as it feels at times. I know it's not great, but it's still fun, and I don't doubt he wants to spend time with me. I just may want more than he does right now.

This morning, S stopped by to walk to the coffee shop with TheDog and I. We spent hours talking. Between the walk, the patio at the coffee shop and my couch. Some of the same topics as the day before, but completely different. I've known her for less time, but she knows me far better.

We talked about the boy, our jobs, politics, house issues, and everything else. I (hope I) helped her figure some things out where her career is concerned, and she helped me with a few things I'm struggling with.

And our conversation helped me to realize a few very important differences in how you weigh your options of leaving a job versus a relationship.

With a job, you should leave not only because where you are isn't working for you, but because you're sure the next will be better. Not just different. The whole running to something, not from something.

But with a relationship, if it's not working for you, really not working for you, that's reason enough to leave.

It's about needing the job, but not a guy. It's about career paths and not making too many switches, but paths and switches aren't necessarily frowned upon in the dating world. It's about loyalty and working things out.

Many people have said they don't understand why, when it comes to my career, I can go for what I want, be assertive and self-assured. However when it comes to relationships, I can be a bit apprehensive.

My company needs me and I need them. I know if I leave I have other prospects. Although I want a guy, I don't need one, and he doesn't need me. And if I leave, there's no guarantee of another prospect.

Of course, I still won't stay, in either, if I'm truly not getting what I need or being treated badly. But it's good to recognize that, while only one is a job, both are hard work.

answers or more questions

Yes, I hear you. I hear all the don't waits, move ons, just get over its. I even get it. And agree.

He just keeps making me doubt that that's what I should do. What I want to do.

Just when it gets to the point that I decide I can't do this anymore. Can't keep waiting. He says or does something that reminds me of how great things were. Still are sometimes. Still could be?

Yet hours later I'm back to wondering why I keep trying. Particularly when the more I try the more foolish I feel.

This shouldn't be this hard. Should it?

(un)lucky

I've often wondered why my happiness is never allowed to continue for a period of time without something happening to squash it.

With all the not-great things that have happened in my life, with deaths and floods and car accidents, with the broken noses and ankles and other injuries, with the lost loves, with the job that makes me want to take a break from everything sometimes, I've wondered why I am so unlucky.

The thing is, I am happy, maybe even lucky. Perhaps not in everyone's definition, but I really do like my life. I have an amazing family, wonderful friends, the best dog on the planet, and I even like my job most of the time.

My sense of unlucky and unhappy lately seems to stem from one thing. The lack of someone with whom I can share this wonderful life I've made for myself or happened into.

I thought I had maybe found him. And that makes it worse somehow. But he's not the same guy I thought I had found. And I'm not sure if I want someone to share it with so much that I'm willing to be unhappy waiting for him to figure out if he wants to share it with me.

funny little reminders

They say that you never really know the lives you touch. I don't know who this "they" is. But they sure know a thing or two.

You just never know when a smile or a kind word will lift someone up. Perhaps out of a really bad day. Perhaps out of a really bad decade.

A simple, heartfelt have a nice day in the elevator ride up to your office can make humanity seem more human after a grueling commute.

A friend's statement that you deserve better can make you realize it as truth. Even when you know you do deserve better, sometimes it takes seeing it in writing, from a friend, before you'll let yourself believe yourself.

Another friend's asking are you single these days, because although they haven't seen you in a while, they knew, before you are even ready to contemplate, that this thing, whatever it is, is no longer making you happy.

A random cute guy at the bank smiling back at you.