Friday, September 25, 2009


J is the head (well only) nerd at his company which is a sweet set up for everyone 90% of the time. He gets to do whatever he wants and they only have to have one nerd on staff. However, they do have a second office in Montana so periodically he has to go to Montana.

This makes no one happy.

He gripes about having to take weird flights and the weather always sucks and he almost always narrowly avoids hitting some sort of animal going to the hotel. And apparently the only place to get a steak in town is at the strip club, which I admit sounds like J's idea of heaven except apparently he doesn't believe in eating at strip clubs. I guess I understand.*

This means that I am about to be treated to a weekend of watching Cars, reading the BEAR BOOOOOOOOOOOOK over and over and well other delights. The child seems to have toddler PMS. Half of the time she is so charming that I cannot help myself. There is dancing, there is spinning and reading and laughing and goddamn she is cute. The other half she is a demonic badger from hell. A Hell Badger who likes having shit smeared in her delicate parts THANK YOU MOTHER NO WIPING. A Hell Badger who wants KUNG FU PANDA NOW and make it snappy whore.

I predict that I will actually have a grand time but will be very ready for J to be home on Monday night.

Also, we will be do the toddler death march around town. The park! Running up and down the aisles at Lowes! Mall play area! Swimming! Anything to wear out the tiny tiny ass in the family.

*The idea that naked chicks should not accompany food purchases is apparently not universal as my town here is the epicenter of those damn bikini baristas. And, in the non-shocker of the year, five of the local coffee girls have been arrested for prostitution. It mainly makes me sad for them because I can't help but feel like they are being exploited and bullied a bit by the asshole stand owners who seem to be universally fat, sweaty, nasty old dudes that have "no fat chick" bumpstickers on their rusty trucks. But I digress.

Thursday, September 17, 2009


I read Y's entry yesterday and sobbed the whole way through. I feel for her and I ache for her but really I feel for me. She wonders if she did the right thing, calling 911 when her grandpa was so sick. She feels guilty that she didn't respect what he wanted.

My grandfather wanted to die in his home. By all accounts he knew he was sick that day, he talked to my grandmother, he talked to my father, he chose to stay home. And he died alone. And while that may have been what he wanted it is very hard for me to live with.

I have a lot of guilt about not calling my grandfather enough, not going to see him. Being a Jew I don't believe in Heaven but I know that he did. So selfishly I hope that he was right and that somehow he knows.

The guilt is crushing. As crushing as the sadness. I wake up in the middle of the night and I can barely breathe. It sneaks up on me when I hardly expect it.

All I can hope is that he forgives me.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009


I don't know how I keep falling off the ends of the earth and yet I did it again. We had a great Labor Day party--somehow J and I have mastered getting everything ready for lunch at once so the food was great and the guests were all so nice. And the kids ran my kid's ass off which is really the whole point of the day for me.

The rest of the week I went to what we shall call nerd school. I am attempting part two of my career change now and wow have I been intimidated to get going on it. I've spent the summer sort of in limbo and the longer I delayed and weighed options the more chicken shit I got. When it comes down to it I am not brave so I have to make things way scarier to not do than do and so I wound myself and registered for nerd school and y'all know how I hate to waste money. No back out now.

For a time I thought about going back to college. Had in fact decided to do that until I realized that option sort of sucked and was going to cost a lot without a big payoff. So now I am cobbling together my education on my own. Harder and easier.

It's scary out here. I had worked for the same company for eight years. I was good at what I did. But I was never happy, never excited, never passionate about what I was doing. So the last three months I have been just quietly freaking out about being out here alone and broke and so damn scared but I am also the happiest I have been in years. I sleep deeply, dream deeply, have patience for my child and my husband. I don't scream and rage and cry. I may panic about the bills but I don't throw up driving to work anymore. I don't have anxiety answering my email. I don't stay up all night Sunday because I cannot stop worrying about Monday.

It is a relief and a gift and I can't believe it is already September. It's like being a kid again--starting the school year. Everything feels new and crisp and exciting.

Sunday, September 06, 2009

Bottles and Bottles of Wine

We're having some sort of Labor Day extravaganza tomorrow--entirely directed by J because I tend to socialize not at all, just via email and twitter. We are making a very large piece of beef and also an apple tart--obviously other things but those are what I care about--and well I am not going to lie. We went into a shame clean frenzy in this house today.

I refuse to believe that no one else does the shame clean. Which is when you start to declutter your house, because it looks like a rummage sale exploded in your living room, and then you notice how you haven't dusted since last winter and GOD the floors are filthy and SHIT how are there huge cobwebs hanging from everything in the world in here. Then you run around and get flushed and sweaty and do not even sit down for hours because if you stop for a second you will not finish because it is just way to overwhelming. Everyone does this right?

Shame cleaning used to be easier--before a toy store lived in my living room--because I didn't have to squeeze it into naptimes and bedtime and wow I really didn't need the extra complication. Today to add an extra degree of difficulty I managed to have a two liter of Pepsi explode in my kitchen. I suppose the bright spot is that this was before I steam cleaned the floors in there (it did, however, move that up a few hours because so sticky). I think most of the two liter ended up soaked onto me--it took ages to ring out my jeans, t-shirt and sweatshirt. Later, because really today wasn't stressful enough, J knocked one of the glass shades off of the chandelier over the dining room table. Glass everywhere. Light fixture hanging crookedly. Hands and feet cut the fuck up because I had to dig all of the tiny slivers out of the planks of the table.

Everyone better show up tomorrow. And bring wine. Lots of wine.