Events From the Last Day in McCall

The jet ski without a rider turned out to belong to the neighbors. They had beached their skis, but didn't tie them, and one had come loose and was floating about on its own at some point. They recovered it this morning. That doesn't explain the unusual boat activity of last night, but we did go in the water today and I can report that no dead bodies were seen by OM, OC, or myself.

Which is not to say that I did not actively look for one that may have been floating in our direction the entire time we were in the water. I don't have Generalized Anxiety Disorder for nothing, you know. The dock is old and part of it was flooded by the last spring storm so it floats lower in the water. I kept thinking what a great place that was for a body to become lodged, and then I couldn't get the imagery out of my mind. I managed to keep my cool because luckily, the water in the lake is nice and clear so if there was something in the water I would have seen it before it touched me. *shiver*

We found a park for OC today, which was enough to satisfy her insatiable park cravings for the moment. Other highlights included lunch at the marina restaurant in which the message was: Order at the counter you lazy, capitalist tourist bastards, then we'll bring the food out to you so it will still merit leaving a tip. We will not bring you anything else or check on your progress, however. Thank you. Leave lots of money. Goodbye.

What else...oh yes! A little more shopping in the stores in downtown McCall, more groceries from Paul's, (which I incorrectly called Ralph's a couple of posts ago. Ralph's is in Oregon. Please forgive my confusedness.) and some ice cream cones.

Right now I am stuffed full of basil, tomato and mozzarella pizza along with a giant bottle of Newcastle. I am waiting to have room to eat some white chocolate macadamia nut cookies. (Yes, I had a huckleberry ice cream today but that was earlier, so looooong ago, when it was hot. Whine.)

The time has really gone by quickly. Tomorrow, we leave for Boise and catch our plane back to P-town. I can't believe that this visit is all I get to see my mom for who knows how long. I'm going to miss her, cranky (at times) and all.

Just Another Day in Idaho

So last night was weird. There were boats out on the lake after dark, which is very unusual according to my mom. We watched one boat go by quickly out in the middle of the lake, while another boat cruised very slowly near the shoreline past the house. There was also another boat that had what looked like a searchlight, and was out there for hours.

This morning, there was a jet ski in the water with no rider, floating in front of the house. That could not be a good sign.

Yesterday was fun, except for OC didn't get to go to the park. We are planning to find a park first thing today for the poor, patient girl. Yesterday, OM wanted to show me the bead store, which also contained paint-you-own ceramics, and while we weren't planning to do any painting, painting is what we ended up doing. For three hours. It got hot in there, too, so by the end OM was a little cranky (and she freely admits it, too, which is good because it was obvious :D).

OC chose a My Little Pony figurine, which she christened Serena Pinky Pie. OM chose a sun which can hang on a wall, and I chose a small dragonfly which can also be hung. Both OM's and mine are without names, because how can we top Serena Pinky Pie? They fire and glaze it for you, and we'll have ours shipped home in about a week.

It really is beautiful here. I hope the lone jet ski became unmoored and is not part of a tragedy. They have some strange ones here in Idaho.

There was the guy who murdered his wife, decapitated her, then took the head for a drive. He got into a bad accident along the way, killing a woman and her 4-year old and putting the 8-year old in the hospital. But he was fine, of course. He couldn't explain the extra head at the accident scene, however, so he was arrested and thus began the murder investigation. Apparently this has made national news but I wasn't yet familiar with the story. It's shocking. I can't get over the fact that he survived the car accident. That's not fair. But then again, life is that way.

What a crazy, crazy world. Meanwhile, I think I'll go spend some time in the magic shower, and think happy thoughts.

At Least She Knows the Important Things, Like That There is Cable

OC: "Do we have cable here?"

ME: "Yes."

OC: "So that means there are cartoons on at night!"

ME: *sigh*


We are staying in McCall, Idaho at my mom and uncle's house. We escaped the oppressive heat of Portland (100 degrees) and came to Idaho where it's a more hospitable 88.

The house is right on Payette Lake, but the water is full of freezing cold snowmelt. The most we can do without getting hypothermia is get our toes wet and then go back on the grass to warm up again.

This house has the best shower I've ever experienced, and if you don't think there's any difference between showers (and I am only speaking of normal showers; crappy hotelroom showers with a wide spray that don't rinse you are not included) you are wrong. This shower has four heads. One up high, two on the side, and one that is removable, and you can decide which you'd like on or off or choose any number of combinations. It's like a car wash, that shower. All it needed were some shaggy blue spinning rotors and one wouldn't have to do anything to get clean except for get into it and possibly remember to tip the guy who dries you off with a towel at the end.

If you do happen to turn around while you're in there, you can look through the glass door, over the jacuzzi tub, and out the windows which look out onto the lake.

What I know about McCall so far is this: the brewpub has good beer and nice waiters who turn the tv to the NCAA college baseball championship game for you so you can watch Oregon State win. (OMG, they WON!!!)

Also, said Nice Waiter will give you extra whip cream to take home with your to-go box of black forest cake. This is useful information if you happen to go there with your mom and your daughter and your mom feeds your daughter, along with most of the frosting, all of the whip cream.

Touring the West

Hello.

I am starting to live up to my (blog) name and am touring more of the occidental part of the world.

This weekend, we visited Long Beach, Washington for a friend's wedding. Tomorrow, OC and I leave for Boise to visit my mom. OH will stay behind, work at his job since he's the only one of us who has one, and try to keep the plant life alive in the 100-degree heat that is prescribed for tomorrow's weather.

I'm looking forward to visiting my mom. Since she moved to Boise we don't see her much. We don't have a lot of plans, just to hang out. That is fine with me. OC is so excited.

Steve Wouldn't Hurt Us!

*Blatant theft of clever dialog from current movie release*

*Okay, it's from Over the Hedge. Go see it. It's funny*

Something's different today. What could it be? I'm reading blogs and checking email like I do every morning, but something is definitely different. Missing.

I know! There is no background noise (really, it's foreground) telling me the number of the day. I also don't know the letter of the day, nor do I hear Prairie Dawn, Maria, Oscar, and the rest of the gang. Oh my god the tv is off!!!

That's right, I am typing, reading, emailing, in perfect, beautiful silence. My child is still asleep.

We really should do something about the computer being in the living room. Right now, it's the only place it can be if I want to be connected to the internet and I want to be connected to the internet as much as Michael Jackson wants to be surrounded by little boys. So, for now I have to suffer through background noise of PBS Kids. It gets a little distracting.

I've taken to posting at night, after OC has gone to bed. The only problem with that is I'm usually wiped by then, and can't put together an interesting post to save my life. (As opposed to other times...Heh)

Ideally, we'll set up the computer in another room, and have a faster internet connection to boot. There is always the fall, when OC goes to school for four hours a day. But I'm not counting the days at all. (68.)

Water, Water Everywhere But the Garden Isn't Getting Any

I tried to be resourceful last night. I thought: put OC in the bath, get watering the rest of the garden done. The windows were open so I could hear her if anything went wrong. In retrospect, I could have killed two birds with one stone by having OC stand in the garden while I watered, thereby getting both things done. But, I'm not a big birdkilling fanatic, plus the water coming out of the hose was cold, so I stuck with Plan A.

It started out allright, but then I thought I heard crying. I went up to the window, and there she was. Naked and crying. I went inside to see what had happened. She wasn't hurt, but she was scared.

"What are you afraid of?" I asked her as we walked back to the bathroom.

"MRIDTBEVODLCANSSSUNDDDRRNIMSCRRRDDLVA!!!!!" She cried, incoherently.

"What, honey?" I tried again, but only got the same response. It took several tries to learn what was frightening her so badly. It was......volcanoes. She was afraid a volcano might erupt in the bathtub because volcanoes are round at the top, just like the drain. It's true we live in the northwest, ring of fire and all of that, but this was ridiculous!

Needless to say, watering was not going to happen. I coaxed her back into the tub and she got her bath with me there to ensure I could save her if the nonexistant volcano did indeed erupt.

This is not her first bathtime fear. Another time she was afraid a shark was going to come up the drain. I told her the only shark that could ever get into her bath was her plastic purple bathtub shark toy. She didn't seem to believe me until the bath was over and all was well.

I finished the watering after she'd gone to bed - in the dark.

I'm coming to see that she wants my attention - BAD - and so I'm going to figure out how we can both have what we want. We both need to spend time together, paying attention to one another, and I need to get things done sometimes in peace and quiet.

I think we can do both of these.

1930's House

As I was hoeing corn this afternoon, I kept thinking about my great-grandmother.

I coined her nickname that we all called her, Grandma Squeezie. She grew up in Idaho and eastern Washington on farms with her parents and several siblings. They were poor, but they got by. Her birthday was April 14, 1905. She turned 7 on the day the Titanic sunk.

When she married, it was to a farmer and they had six kids. He was not a nice man, to say the least. He beat the kids and my grandma, too, but what could she do? She was completely dependent on him and isolated on their farm. They were poor, but they got by. They had crops, vegetables, and animals to take care of, and they killed, grew, or made from scratch every single thing they ate.

In the late summer the men got together and harvested everybody's crops as a group, and the women went out and cooked their meals so they could get the work done more quickly. Imagine that, cooking over a hot stove in the middle of the hottest months of the year! The only relief available from the intense heat would be a swift breeze containing slightly less intense heat.

When I knew my great-grandma she was a happy, sweet old lady who was talented at sewing, quilting, cooking and gardening; who liked birds; knew funny sayings and songs; and basically enjoyed life. I remember going to her house one day to stay. It was the day I discovered that I loved radishes. She grew them in her garden and they were the best things I had tasted. I kept asking for more, I loved them so much. I never knew she had such a tough life until she told stories about it, but even then it was with a smile and laughter. The really bad things I learned from my grandma and mom.

When I'm out there hoeing our four rows of corn, feeling my back ache and thinking about the watering I still need to do all while my daughter chatters on incessantly, I think of her. I think of how much more work she had to do, how many more kids she had, and how much harder it was. She didn't have the connection of the internet and telephone like I do. Even though she had neighbors and the community of the small town nearby, she didn't get out of the house very often. I wonder what she did have for relief? I know she wasn't married to the man of her dreams. I don't know how she survived. What did people do before Amazon.com or Bluefly.com could bring books and designer clothes at a discount, respectively, to your front door without leaving the house?

After contemplating all of this I understand the relevance of quaint things like the quilting bee or the county fair. It was a necessary form of making and keeping connections, of seeing what all was going on outside the confines of your life. Life meant daily your hours were filled with manual labor just to provide for all your basic necessities. Forget about luxuries.

A luxury for her must have been some new fabric, some ribbon, or maybe a book. I can't even imagine, as I think of my craft box stuffed with crap I haven't even had time to look at in months, much less make anything with its contents.

It's a comfort to me to think of Grandma Squeezie's experiences. When I get frustrated, or feel isolated and overworked, I can't help but think I don't even know the true meaning of "isolated" and "overworked". She would laugh at me, in a loving way and point out how easy I really have things, and she would be right.

Happiness is an attitude, not a circumstance.

I realize how much truth that saying contains. I had never thought of it that way before. Happiness doesn't just come on a silver platter every morning, you have to work for it. I suppose that means it's more rewarding, and you get better at attaining it, but it really pisses me off. You have to work? For happiness??? It seems crazy.

The human experience has always included connections, be they cave paintings or quilting bees or a group of blogs on the internet. No matter who you are or what you do, you need other human beings to communicate with, to love, to share life experiences with. As generations grow up and time progresses, you just need to figure out what particular form the connection will take and reach for them.

For Grandma Squeezie, it was a barn dance. She figured out a way to survive her harsh life and remained a fairly happy person when I knew her in her later years. For me, it's a screen containing the heartfelt words of strangers, or an email from a loved one. They are my saving grace.

Fried

This morning, after I made breakfast I got a load of laundry going. Then I checked email, unloaded the dishwasher, put more laundry in, and OC and I went outside to work in the garden.

After lunch, we went back outside and worked in the garden again and also out front watering and getting an area ready to be landscaped with new plants and paving stones. We took a quick trip to the library, bank, and Home Depot.

The whole day, with the exception of part of the car ride and while in Home Depot, OC talked or sang. THE ENTIRE DAY.

Tonight, I was so annoyed that I cried while I washed the dishes and OC played in her room. Stupid, I know. It sounds ridiculous now. But my nerves were fried, my forehead was twitchy, my jaw was clenched, I had had enough. I sat down with her and read her four Angelina Ballerina books and then got her ready for bed.

I thought this went away once the kid grew up, because babies are notoriously needy beings. But a five year old? I thought they pretty much raised themselves. Or, at least, did so more silently.

I can't get any sympathy from my mom when I tell her about it. She just laughs and tells me, "She's exactly the way you were!" She says this a little too gleefully, I might add. This weekend we spent some time with OH's parents. My mother in law said the same thing about OH. (Dear God! What our biological children be like!)

On top of this, there have been more and more frequent episodes where she doesn't listen to me. When I ask her to do something, she argues with me. At first I liked how she was thinking for herself. It was creative, I thought. And as long as it didn't get out of hand I was fine with it. Now, it's becoming the principle of the thing for me. When I asked her to pick up her purse as it was getting wet in the stream of water that was coming down the driveway from the hose, she said, "It's okay if I just move it here." One inch away from the water. Twitch.

"No, I said, 'pick it up' so pick it up and let's go take it inside so it can get dry." AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! I wanted to say, "Just do what I tell you and no back talk," because I totally understand where my parents were coming from with that.

All I want right now is to have an uninterrupted thought.

Everyone's in bed. It's silent in the house except for Dakota's sneezy breathing, and I'm too tired to think.

What I've Been Doing

I've been at home now for 14 days. That's two weeks. The thing about staying home is, there is so much to do! I've got the chance now to get caught up with unpacking and sorting all my things by either finding a place for them in the house or purging them from my life.

It sounds really dull, but the act of organizing my stuff is really a good feeling. To know where everything is, to have things put away and accessible when you need them, and to not have too much stuff....that is NOT the way I have generally done things in the past.

As a kid, I would hang on to most items people gave me and save it for later. When was late enough, I don't know. I came across a sticker that has made, oh, five moves with me in my adult life. Five! All because I was saving it to use on something really special. *Pregnant pause while I take in just how riduculous that really was*

I finally threw the sticker away because it was no longer special. It's specialness had passed.

My daughter doesn't have this problem. In fact, quite the opposite: give her a package of stickers and a piece of paper and she'll have the stickers gone in minutes. I am so proud of her, while at the same time I feel how new this concept is to me, and how obvious it is to her. Using what you have and getting enjoyment out of it in the moment, it's elemental, but it doesn't always come naturally.

It has only been in the past few years that I have really learned that life is about the now, not the tomorrow. Since then, I've been practicing letting go of the burden of Things. When I see something I really don't want but think I should keep, I ask myself if the person who gave it to me would want me to be burdened by something they gave me, or if they would want me to be happy. I decide they want me to be happy, and then I can chuck the item with a light heart. I don't feel like I'm insulting that person, which is how I used to feel. That's right, I kept things for the benefit of others.

I don't want to be a packrat. I want to have a clutterless house that feels good to occupy; a home with a few lovely items instead of a museum crammed with stuff just because I have attached so much sentimental value to everything that nothing has any actual value.

That's what I'm doing now, and I'm happy. Well, that plus taking care of our small garden and figuring out where to plant some new flowers. Nothing earthshattering, but it's all things I didn't have time for when I worked full-time. It doesn't make for very interesting small talk, but it does work wonders on the soul.

Dueling Microphones

I'm back, baby! Got my modem driver reinstalled, and I'm typing this from home. Freedom! No more lame library "time limits", I can be online til the cows come home.

Tonight we had our own version of "Dueling Microphones". OH was giving OC a bad time because the other night I had her try on some shoes I bought for her a while back in a size that was too big for her at the time. I thought the shoes might fit now, but they are still a little too big. She wanted to wear them anyway (because they are Hello! Kitty...duh) and so she did. The thing was, she kind of clunked around in them, being as they are too big and all.

Tonight for some reason, OH got stuck on calling her Big Foot and she would yell back, "I'M NOT BIG FOOT!"

Repeat.

Many times.

As this went on (and on and on and on) and they chased each other back and forth in the house, once OC ran up to me I told her to go sing a few lines from "These Boots Are Made For Walking" (take THAT!). I gave her three lines, she repeated them once to me and then she was off to tell OH. He came back with something I didn't hear.

She ran back to me again, and I started to tell her to go say "Take this job and shove it!" but thought better of arming a sharp five-year-old with mildly inappropriate-for-her-age lyrics which will only come back to bite me in the butt at a later date. (Foreseeably that date would be her first day of Kindergarten, whereafter I will be known as the "Potty-mouth mommy". It's okay. I can deal with the label, but OC shouldn't have to.)

Instead, I told her to say a few lines from "16 Tons" as a way to express, you know, carrying a heavy load, i.e. her father's incessant teasing, to get the point across. (Because an metaphor-teaching mommy, THAT'S respectable and totally going to get her points with her Kindergarten peers! Yeah! She will be the Kid With the Dorky Mom. Woo hoo! Mission accomplished= I am a dillweed.)

My daughter, who never forgets to ask me while in a public restroom if I'm pooping or peeing, or to tell me even the most mundane detail of some random thought she once had, ran over to OH and promptly forgot the words.

Hello, I'm Alive

I can post again! For several days now, Blogger has been giving me the cold shoulder. It's a long story, I'll sum up:

I don't have the internet at home right now because my laptop had a virus. I went to reinstall the operating system in order to wipe out the hard drive, but ran into an error message I didn't know how to get around. A nice young man in India from Windows Support helped me through it, however, and now I have a fresh new hard drive! However, because of the virus, I didn't back up anything from my previous system and so - no drivers. Yay! No, not yay, actually. It is bad.

So here I am, at the public library where I have come all week in order to check email and to post an entry to my blog. But hark, what has been happening at the library's computer station? I can access email, I can surf the net, but Blogger's site has been completely unfriendly and hasn't let me log on...until today, that is!

I have felt so...pent up, so unexpressed. Amazing how much writing a little blog entry makes everything better.

I've asked my husband to download the drivers at work and burn a cd to bring home from my laptop manufacturer's website due to the catch-22 of needing a modem driver in order to access the internet, where the modem driver that I need resides.......AHHHHHH! I hate catch-22's. Rather than a cliche of unknown origin (at least to me), they feel more like brick walls upon which I've been beating my head upon all friggin' week.

Other things of note this week: We saw "Over the Hedge". It's a great movie, but good for adults, too. Love the part where they pan out to show the earth and you see a little mushroom cloud of cheese when the animals open a bag of cheesy doritos. So funny!

Oh my goodness, I'm so delirious with posty goodness I can't even organize my thoughts.

I look forward to having computer problems behind me so I can go back to recording funny things OC says and does. She said something funny this morning, and I wrote it down on an envelope so I wouldn't forget and so I could blog about it. I left the envelope at home.

First Day

My first day at home, and this is what I did:

- talked to my (only?) stay at home mom friend for like, an hour, catching up since we hadn't talked in years

- stopped at OH's work to bring him lunch; got kisses at 11 am

- went to gymnastics school to pick up schedule for OC

- picked up information and application for vacation camps for OC

- went to car dealer to pick up a part that broke off when I last had a flat tire, and found out why my car was leaking water (a plugged drain hose from the sunroof, and they fixed it for free...at the dealer...Freaky, right?)

- had lunch with OC

- went to a park with fountains that we used to pass every night on our way home; OC checked it out to her satisfaction

- stopped at the frame store to have a poster framed which was a birthday gift for my father-in-law; $200 later, the poster will look great and will be ready in two weeks

- went to Fred Meyer and got odds an ends: a bigger pot for my Norfolk Island Pine, the plant my mom gave me when OC was born (it is growing well, just like OC); a filing cabinet for papers (we are about to be overrun with Important Papers That Must Be Saved But Have No Clue Where They Shall Be Kept); file folders; I forget what else.

Am currently enjoying a glass of red wine and thinking about what to have for dinner. I do not feel stressed out at all, but being gone all day made me feel like I didn't get much done. Oh well, tomorrow is another day.

(Cue music from "Gone With The Wind"...)

I happened across a post from my archives the reminded me why what I am doing is the right thing. It is, and it feels good.

My wineglass is empty, gotta go!

Good Bye, Old Job

Why does leaving a job take two days of packing, cleaning, sorting, and cd-burning?

I've been at this job for 4 years, I guess that's why. I finished all of the above with 15 minutes to spare in the work day, and I have been going nonstop all day. Tonight will be my going away party.

So many people have told me "Congratulations!" and have said how they're so glad for me to be doing this. It feels good to hear that. If I had a nickel for how many times I've thought, "I could come back just for the summer and work part time..." well, I'd have a lot of nickels. I knew I had to make a clean break, and I'm glad I am doing that. It's easy to try and stick around just a little longer, in some capacity, but I can't do that.

Leaving is sad. There are many wonderful people here and it was a good job, fun even, a lot of times. It paid the bills and offered many challenges and opportunities for me to grow as a designer. I've learned so much here. And now, I have cleared my path completely in order to move on to other things. Like BlogHer, and I'm excited about that.

Off to get my drink on!

Community and the Joys of Independent Travel

Last night, OH and I had a date! We went to one of the few nice restaurants in our town and had a late dinner, just the two of us. We split a bottle of wine, had some wonderfully fresh food, and talked. We rarely have moments alone, and so we made the best of it. He surprised me by stopping for ice cream on the way home, too. This is how I know I married the right man: it was HIS idea to stop for ice cream. My god, I am in love!

One of the things we talked about was each of our desire to take trips - separate trips - this summer. I want to go to BlogHer, OH wants to go to watch baseball in Seattle.

OH is planning a baseball trip - two baseball trips, actually - this summer. The first trip came about as a group of friends, but when people in his office found out they thought it would be a fun trip to plan through the company, so now there are two trips. He was worried I would be upset with him for being gone so much. My reaction was more on par with, "What, you're still here?". Let me explain.

I am happy to see him plan activities that he loves, and he loves watching baseball. I told him that when it feels like he is planning to be gone too much, I'd let him know. Right now, the two trips are not too much and furthermore, I think it's healthy for us to do our own things once in a while.

This brings me back around to BlogHer. I mentioned how I really want to go. BAD. The only problem is, I'm soon to be unemployed. That is: She Without a Paycheck. BlogHer is not free, nor is it prohibitively expensive. It is, however, terribly important to me to have the chance to go and meet wonderful people whose words I read on a daily basis (see sidebar). I want to expand my blog, which I'll have time to do when I am not working full-time, so it seems a great opportunity to learn more. OH is all for it, even though it means spending money right before we are on a tight budget. I am so grateful for his support for something that is important to me.

BlogHer was sold out for Day One, but I am attending the Day One cocktail party (meet drunk bloggers, yay!) and Day Two session and cocktail party. It looks to be a great event. I can't believe I'm actually going.

Blogging has already changed my life. Through the experience of writing down what are at times intensely personal thoughts and experiences, and reading other people who have done the same, I have learned that we are all one, big community. We are not in this alone. Motherhood, marriage, relationships, jobs, the daily problems of living; all of it is what brings us together. We can learn from one another and improve our own lives. Stay at home moms no longer have to remain isolated in their homes, nor working moms feel a sense of isolation from other women while in their jobs. We can all share and reach out to one another through this new forum which didn't exist in our mother's time.

In current times where people generally keep to themselves and often live in distant towns from family members, it is a powerfully comforting thing to enjoy this sense of community.

Excellent Linkage

Yesterday got away from me. I was so excited to be linked up to Marathon Mom's blog that I forgot to post! The internet is so great. How else can you meet so many cool people in your pj's? Or at work, while you're working?

It helps to know there are other people doing what you're doing, and found a way to thrive. Amalah, for instance, just quit her job and now has a writing gig. Marathon Mom quite the biotech industry to be home with her kids and has a writing gig. Very Mom has her own business and is home with her kids.

These are just a few examples. It is these people and many more that I read on daily basis doing various things with their lives and making changes to suit their families. It heartens me to know that there are others out there who have made changes and have done so well with the change.

I have something funny to share. My daughter, who I unbiasfully think of as the female Oscar Wilde, delighted me with this last night:

(She had just eaten something, I forget what now)

OC: Does my tongue look pink?

Me: No.

OC: Well, it tastes pink. I thought it would look pink.

**********************************

Okay, maybe it's not quite great wit yet, but to me it's priceless. (Tastes pink! She kills me!) Ahhhhhhhhhhhlrighty then.

Days left of paid employment: 5.

Days left before I have something interesting to say: unknown. But I just know it will happen...

Healing Laughter

If laughter is the best medicine, then I'm getting healed in the best way today.

First, I have been remembering a few things about my brother: when he was a kid he saved farts in a Band Aid box to be pulled out and used later; he made me work really hard not to crack up in front of everyone when I was a bridesmaid at my sister's wedding when he was off to the side making faces and gestures of I don't even know what; who wouldn't miss an opportunity to go out of his way for you or make you laugh. There are so many moments, so many things he would have a hilarious comment about. Normal things were just hilariously funny when he was around to comment upon them.

Those are the good things. To get my mind off the bad, I just listened to two very funny comedy sets, one by Adam Ferrara and another by Daniel Tosh. Go to www.youtube.com and type in "Comedy Central" then scroll for these two names. Listen, and have yourself a laugh. It's good for you!

Hard Day

How did I get this job, anyway? I am retarded. I just scanned five black and white documents, and didn't choose the right options. So instead of being single, two-sided pdfs, they are numbered 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, etc. until it gets to the end, where it goes 119, 121, 122, 120, 118, 116, etc... Argh. (To my coworker who reads this blog: I'm sorry. Soon you will not have to deal with my trifling mistakes, you poor, encumbered soul you!)

Four years ago my brother died after being diagnosed with strep throat, then whoops! it was actually leukemia. (From lame clinic, if we had a soul we would tell you: "We would like to apologize for our laziness and reluctance to spend money on a medical test that would have detected the leukemia before your family member spent 30 days hovering near death in an ICU, it's just that we're HMO motherfuckers and can't be bothered. Thanks.")

Yesterday was his birthday. Or, would have been. What can you say about someone who was once vibrant, full of humor and light, and then died at age 34? It was painful and unfair, but there is nothing to be done now except remember. Remember how life can be taken away so quickly, before you have time doing what you intend to do. Don't put anything off, if you can help it. You never know when the day will come when you CAN'T do what you want with your life.

I know that for me, life sometimes feels like a burden. Too often I find myself thinking, 'How am I going to get through this? I can't take this pain,'. Then on the flip side, I think about how amazing it is that I am here. When you think about the biological odds (millions of sperm, that ONE egg...) and the anthropological history of the world (wars, famine, disease, lack of medical knowledge way back when, etc.) it further boggles the mind that we made it to 2006 when one of our relatives could've easily been killed before creating one of our predecessors. If JUST ONE had not made it, we wouldn't be here.

I don't know what this type of thinking is called, or even what the point of it is, but it does help me get out of my funk to think this way. It makes me appreciate life, even when it's bad. I guess it makes me think that just as there was life for thousands of years before me, there will be life after me. There will even be life for me after the current crisis passes. I guess that if life lessons weren't painful, we wouldn't really notice them, would we?

I know my family is thinking about the same thing today. I think the passage of time has lessened the sting of loss, but the lesson of having lived through it is still there: Don't Put Things Off. Life is Short. Enjoy Life and Your Family Now.

There is one more ingredient that helps, that I could not do without: knowing that I am not alone. That's what the internet has given me, the gift of knowing that I am not suffering alone, or crazy to feel this way. Through both email and the blogs I read, when my powers of positive thinking become eroded to the point that I can't conjure a single good thought, I read stories of other people's troubles and my thoughts turn to how I can help that person. Then I start thinking about how I can reach out, or ask for advice, or just plain commiserate. And that makes it a little bit better, enough to where I can shake off the negative energy that brings me down and become a stronger person for having gone through it.

That's what I want my family to know right now, that I am there for them if they need me; whether they need to talk, listen, or want to commiserate. Life is short, but it is mostly good. And it's even better when you are in good company.

The Other Thing on My Mind

In addition to inhabiting my personal, post-vacation lala land, I have something else on my mind: I'm leaving my job on May 31st. Crap! How will I buy stuff I don't need??

Making this decision to leave my job in order to spend more time with my daughter has been hard for the usual reasons. I like coming to work and interacting with adults; working on graphics projects provides a great opportunity for creativity, albeit not every project or task is exciting; answering people's technical questions and being out in the world makes me feel like I might actually know something and be a useful, productive, and sometimes even interesting human being; this is the best place I've ever worked as far as the co-worker and boss relationship; the paycheck that gets automatically deposited into my checking account is awfully nice validation, especially when converted into a shoe/beauty/fashion/craft validation goodness. It's easy to get nostalgic when I think of all the good things.

What I won't miss are the mornings where I'm late and totally stressed out and feeling guilty over leaving my crying/needy/sleepy/stressed child at daycare when it would have been so nice to just STAY HOME and not panic for a change.

Humans are multi-dimensional, complicated beings (except for Britney Spears) (sorry, cheap celebrity bashing is ugly) and so I have been feeling both sad and excited, among other things, about this new prospect. However, I am not confused by feeling all of the widely disparate emotions, even though this is new territory for me.

I am not normally comfortable being the one to affect change. I am more comfortable and happy knowing I am normal and just like everyone else. That's why I enjoy every instance of a coworker telling me congratulations, and that they wish they had done/could do the same thing. This isn't a work vs. stay at home debate, this is about life and decisions and changes.

My life has been about stress and the bottleneck of time and responsibility. Being somewhere, all the time, with very little personal time. I had a baby 12 months into a new job which, surprise! didn't leave me any vacation time. I was back to work after four short months. I kept working year after year after that (and gratefully so, when I got divorced and was able to support myself) but now things have changed. I look at this change as a gift I am giving my daughter. I'm reducing her stress level by giving her a break from her full-time daycare schedule.

I don't question my decision, and so when the sad pull of remembering what I am leaving behind creeps into my thoughts, I just remember all the stressful mornings and when I felt like my efforts were futile.

The only question I have now is how the heck I am going to finance my fancy French facial product habit. Wait, I think I know: b-u-y r-e-g-u-l-a-r s-o-a-p o-r f-i-n-d a p-a-r-t-t-i-m-e j-o-b, d-u-m-b d-u-m-b!

Back on the Occidental Coast. Of America.

It's good to be back home. We all loved Ireland and had a wonderful experience, but there's something about going away that makes being home again such a relief.

My daughter is a capable, adaptable traveler already, at the tender age of five. She hauled her self and her stuff from Portland to Dallas to Chicago, and then Dublin with nary a complaint:



While waiting to board our Aer Lingus flight in Chicago, an artist made a picture of OC, for a small fee (caption says "Kenny, Chicago, April 25, 2006"):



Our first two nights were spent in Dublin. We got lost on our way back to our hotel after a brief walk a few blocks away near St. Stephen's Green. This was not entirely our fault. The street changed names three times in the space of 200 yards! We were jet lagged, but hadn't lost our sense of direction. We circled around and around where we thought the hotel was (and by circling I mean walking all the while with a five-year old in tow, a very patient but kind of worried-that-her-parents-were-lost-on-the-first-day-in-a-strange-place five-year old...) but kept coming across other streetnames.

Aside number one: I'd like for Ireland to seriously consider updating their street signage. I'm down with how you like to place street signs on buildings even though I am not used to looking for them there, I can adjust. But please, just put them up everywhere and for the love of all that is holy, let a continuous street be named one thing! That would help a lot. Thank you. I know you'll do it for me, for I am your greatest fan. (End of aside.)

Dublin is a cool city: hectic, grimy, old, full of life and people with Irish accents. I loved it. We walked all over the place and had pub food, toured the Guinness Brewery and had our free pint on the top of the building with a view of the city. The city does not contain tall buildings. The tallest buildings were probably 12 stories or so and there aren't many of them, so our view from the top of the seven-story Guinness Brewery was awesome. But who cares about a view, when you've got a cold pint of Guinness in front of you?



View from the (only the seventh floor!) Guinness Brewery:


My favorite thing in Dublin was when we went to Trinity College and saw the Book of Kells. That, and when I bought jewelry from a street vendor. It was nice jewelry, nothing particularly special about it, but it was a great price and come on, it's jewelry!

The Book of Kells was written in 800 A.D. by four monks, and it is the four gospels of the New Testament. Not only that, but every page is highly decorated with images and colors, amazing considering they made their own dye from things like minerals. The paper, which is actually vellum, was made from calfskin. Not an easy task, to say the least. The book is preserved in the library at Trinity College, under a glass case with temperature and humidity controls. They turn the pages every few days or so. The display includes information on how the book was made, and about other writing going on in Ireland at the time. OH didn't think it would be very interesting, but he found himself intrigued with it once he got there. I couldn't get over how amazing it was, and I saw it in person! Wow. It's called an illuminated manuscript, because the illustrations and decorations were so beautiful that they lit up the page; illuminated it. That was cool enough, but it also happened to be the Samuel Beckett centenary, a notable Irish writer and playwright, so there was a display in the library of his writing, letters, and manuscripts which was very interesting. That was a great day.

The Book of Kells is here!


Both OH and I love history, so it was cool being in a place where everything is so old. This is the Christ Church Cathedral, originally founded by Vikings in 1038 A.D. and rebuilt by invaders from Norman in 1240 in a Romanesque style. What you may find interesting is that Ireland was never invaded by the Romans, which was only one of a few places that weren't. (Vikings, Normans, and English, yes; but not the Romans.) Dublin is from Irish Dubh Linn, meaning "dark pool", which was a reference to a dark pool of water created by the River Liffey, on whose banks Dublin was founded. The modern Irish name Baile Atha Cliath means "City of the Ford of the Reed Hurdles".

Christ Church Cathedral:


We also went to Dublin Castle, walked over the Ha'Penny Bridge, window-shopped on the pedestrian Grafton Street, and walked through the trendy Temple Bar area which is the oldest part of Dublin. Oh, and we had beer every day. I found that in addition to Guinness, I like Smithwick's and the Scottish beer Tenent's.

Dublin Castle:




A street in the Temple Bar district:


Aside number two: I know that you Irish are speaking English, but I can't always understand you and I'm sorry for all those dumb looks you received from two stupid American tourists. It's a lovely accent, we just couldn't always catch what you were saying, especially if it contained any slang. What in the world is a 'gammon'? Sorry. And thanks. (End of aside.)

More details of the trip to come!

Greetings From Northern Ireland

Hello! Typing this from a pay-to-use internet station located in the lobby of the Bushmills Whiskey Distillery, Bushmills, Co. Antrim, Northern Ireland. OH just took a tour, but OC was too young to go through. We managed to occupy ourselves while we waited by going into some shops in town.

Ireland is so great, I love it here. We keep saying how great it would be tolive here, for the scenery, weather, food and spirits all suit us perfectly. OC is an awesome traveler! I am so impressed with that girl. We hiked one day in a glen for two hours, and during sightseeing drives, there's rarely a complaint.

I've found I really like these beers: Guinness, Tenent's, Smithwick's. Bushmill's whiskey (quite smoothe, but I'm not a whiskey drinker).

We've both driven here in NI, and after the initial adjustment period, do quite fine with it. I keep wondering if I'll mess up when we get home and drive on the left! The only hard part was in Co. Donegal, where the road signs are in Irish and English, or sometimes only Irish.

We're to leave Co. Antrim tomorrow for three days in Co. Fermanagh, then one more night in the Republic before we fly to the States. It's gone way too quickly...what a wonderful place.

Slainte! (To Your Health)

The Occidental Tourist