Tuesday, October 19, 2004
In my defense nothing that funny or interesting has been going on, and that which has has had me in a not so pleasant atmosphere. However, as penance for my disappearing act which will most likely continue, and in light of it being Halloween Time; in the spirit of NO TINK ONLY YOU, and for the love of Halloween and missing my candy corn... I bring you a Scary Story. I call it Frenchie had to go. All my friends said I had to share it cause they are laughing hard and so should you.
And for the record. I COMPLETELY comprehend why men run screaming at dolphin tones when women get all clingy. I will write a blood oath to NEVER be all up in that shit.
I had a discussion about it with my bestest friend- otherwise known as gay turkey-basting husband to be (what like you wouldn’t make a "if we get this old and are lonely well have kids and be sexually divergent" pact with your friends??) Here is your laugh-a-minute transcript.
Me: Oh I am so not allowed to date ever again. We are having super human children together and you will buy me sex toys. End of discussion this is going to be the existence here in our house! Seriously this shit is for the birds or people with interpersonal skills.
Him: What did you do this time?
Me: I let shit get out of control and now I have to do clean up. Seriously, Frenchie is pulling le freak on me. I knew I shouldn’t have gone out on a date with him. Now dating practice is disaster control. First he calls almost daily, once during my interview with the French Foreign Ministry- I no longer pick up calls from unidentified numbers; then he emails all over the place. I was hoping that my chilling words would douse the fires but NOOOOOO he goes all flowery on my ass.
Me: The epitome of flowery. I miss your tender eyes and velvety soft flowing voice. So flowery I gagged just thinking about it again. Then when I backed out of meeting with him as he was going to meet me somewhere and we could then go to an intimate place... And in response to my back out- I have a headache (really when did I get all vintage 1950, not good for the hard core feminist façade) he says but if I had your address I would send you flowers... OH FUCK, I thought I was all romantic and girly but I am not. Seriously when did I grow the dick over here?
Him: Shit I just gagged too. But sweetie you have always been a Butch Gay Man. You have bigger balls than most men I have seen and I have been around the block
Me: That you have... Ahhhh so that is why you love me muchly!!
Him: Bitch... Yes if you flipped your hand I would lop it off faster than a Turkish Imam.
Me: But now I cant get rid of him. Seriously he is not leaving the building. And Elvis needs to get the fuck off my planet. The last straw on this camels back was when the Freak stalked me to the library!!!
Him: He did what??? Honey you didn’t dominate law school for nothing, restrain his ass with three ply leather strap downs.
Me: And even worse he has my necklace from our trip to Venice. So after a few more cool messages he has just emailed saying, I think you do not want to meet me (I cannot be a lesbian, this prissy shit its for the Poodles, WHAT man would want a pouty woman?? Corresponding face with corresponding emotion- see life is simple). So I bit the bullet; I sent the no fucking mistake email(tm). You know the one with a message that you can read from the NASA Space Station. I was nice (hey I want my necklace) and said, I would like to meet with you but I should have been more upfront about my situation and limits. I have too many things demanding of me in my life, and I don’t have the time for any relationship right now. So all I can offer is friendship and nothing more. I hope you understand (and give me back my necklace you Noix de Gateaux aux Fruits)
Him: Ok so here is the deal; you make a meeting meet with the bitch and you grab the necklace you say look you just cant be involved until your genital herpes flair up calms down and you haul ass out of the Starbucks.
Me: Well only after I hit him with a two by four for being such a dumb fuck. I knight you *in the unconventional way* You, you cannot procreate on my planet... But I will definitely keep that in there as back up plan #1
Insert Notes: I set up a meeting with him on Sunday afternoon at Starbucks (which I should note 1. Coffee puts me to sleep, 2. I don’t go to Starbucks that often and 3. when I do go it is for a REAL MUFFIN). I chose Starbucks as I was DREADING this and there would be a pay off (MUFFIN BAYBEEEE) and it would be hugely public.
Him: How did it go?
Me: Well it went and I have the necklace with a renewed ultra strength freak magnet.
Him: Awww yeah bring on the story, it is time for Disasterpiece Theatre beyotches...
Me: Well so I sent the email he said I understand completely and I respect that. So I kind of thought hey I might get off easy. Super Microsoft Friend #1 is a result of my whack ‘em in the balls honesty right...
Him: Yup never have to wonder where you stand...
Me: Shut it bitch before I slap your ass
Him: You know what I like... so how did it go down?
Me: Well we met up and I did the whole "I read the body language chapter and this is everything combined that they say should make sure you know that this is not going anywhere " dance. I nervous chattered.
Him: That should have sent him running
Me: I am so going to bitch slap you like Shiva for that next time I see you!!! Anyways I got my muffin went and sat upstairs, me keeping my bits away from him. Every sentence was explicitly designed to indicate I did not have a single nanosecond of time for him in my life.
Him: Aren’t you just sugar, spice and everything nice?
Me: How long have you known me- I thought you were more perceptive than that. Now go put your dunce cone on and sit your listening only ass in the corner. Thank you!
Me: So before anything I get the necklace and he is like I have it here. NO GIMME... Insistent as I am and on a mission I was like "can I please have it now" (you know in case I have to run like a wolf with the wind??). He hands it over, I know at this point all is safe. I have the necklace and I have to meet a friend in 30 minutes... I will survive.
Him: Are you singing again?
Me: Yes this is a musical rendition of when things go wrong in my life. Now shut the fuck up so I can finish as he hasn’t gone all freaky on my ass yet, and I know you want the juicy shit.
Me: Ha I can get one word responses out of him... ok stop. So while we are talking I tell him about the travels I have coming up- a meeting in Stockholm, a working group meeting in England, a trip to visit my family, and me most likely moving. During which he does this whole grab her hand mid air (should note that as a good Spaniard, I talk with my hands propelling about me occasionally lifting me off the floor) and pull it in saying NOOO like a coy pouty three year old. To which I recoil faster than you when you want to get sprung. And here comes the fizzy dizzy wing dinger of em all Daddy
Him: HA you know whose your Daddy. So lets get Sprung!!
Me: SHUT IT if you want to hear Monsieur le Freak.
Him: Shutting the toilet lid.
Me: He says well I have some vacation time coming up. I say that is great trying to cut the bastard off at the pass, but I was not quick enough. He continued on to say he might be interested in going to Sweden when as I going... I promptly inserted that that was not possible, not with me. He followed up with well if not then I wanted to propose to take you on a trip to somewhere in France that you would like to see.
Him: He WHAT??
Me: Yes my lovely husband to be... We have entered the Twilight Zone; where after one date when the girl tells you she just wants to be friends- you do the logical thing and invite her on a vacation. But now my dear we do not leave it there. I do not pull minor freaks I pull the major ones, the ones with de cajones. I fish with the big boys bitch. Basshole fishing I have a bumpersticker for it! Attached to my forehead.
Him: Dear Buddha what did the twat do next?
Me: Well I tried to ignore that whole let me take you on a romantic weekend- I am the energizer bunny act (again that penis enlargement spam... maybe it wasn’t misdirected I think I see something pointing his way to the door). I kept talking so fast that he couldn’t get a word in.
Him: Brilliant strategy
Me: I thought so and then I was like what is the time- ok I must go. And he was like well but I have one more thing. I am like sure just get it OVER with. He says- I must tell you how I have been dreaming about you all week and your luscious lips and I want to kiss you desperately swinging you in my arms.
Him: Have you brought up your genital herpes yet??
Me: No instead I keep repeating no as he lunges towards me. NO NO NOOOOOOOOO. WHAT THE FUCK, I just got this muffin I can NOT projectile vomit it back up!!
Him: Way to make a scene
Me: Like I am afraid of making a scene? I have been the center of attention to a crowd of over 100,000 people with a guys hand up my ass... come on??
Me: So I say look I told you friends only, he says I understand; I respect that, but I must express my feelings for you. I am like umm yeah feel that its my boot expressing your flowery disrespectful ass to the curb.
*Cue me running away from Monsieur le Freak faster than a speeding bullet*
Him: That is one for the story books
Me: Ummm yeah, I need to find me a normal person. Hey did I tell you my cute Italian Professor friend is moving to Paris for 2.5 months??
Him: You soooooo have ADD
Me: Huh?? Wanna ride Bikes??
Yes you have hopefully not been frightened within a whit of your life and instead been entertained. Otherwise I typed in the computer lab for nothing. Go forth and prosper. I hope to return at a future date when I am done writing about the riveting topic of how taxation affects female employment, I get this interview with the OECD over and I am able to make a decision.
HAHAHAHA you may never see me again...
Friday, October 08, 2004
Where has the time gone?? I do not know but I do not like that it has gone. I need to have a talk with someone about this... And underwraps and work is a "redesign" of the blogger template. Hopefully I will have it up some time next week.
In the mean time, here is a quick random update.
I made the call and I got the interview. Yes I was in possession of a special badge to access the French Foreign Ministry. And it was great. Well until Mr. Long Legs (one of the interviewers) took me up 8 flights of stairs. Three or four flights I am there with you and fine. Eight at haul ass pace- I was out of breath, and it was EARLY in the morning. I am not a morning person in case you didn't get that memo. Waking up early, to get grilled in French, yup a dream come true... I managed to get myself through the interview and I am breathing ok now. I think they liked me, they asked 3 times if I could start soon. It isn't paid though and that could be a problem. Oh well we'll see what they say.
Then that date I went on, the one that went oh so wrong in oh so many ways... This right here is the reason I should not be allowed to date people. Frenchie has gone and gotten all flowery on my ass. And you know what the wooing, it is making me royally gag. I guess I am not that romantic after all... I am trying to let him down easy, but if he hasn't really GOTTEN the point by Sunday I am going to hit him over the head with a 2x4 cause some of this shit is starting to creep me the fuck out!
So I have gotten a fair amount of comments on my research and some excited emails from the Northern friends (as I call my Scandinavian Mafia friends) and it looks like as a treat for finshing this Mofo dissertation, I am going to treat myself with a visit. YEAH for travel. Piss and vinegar for finishing up Mofo. But it will be done... in 22 days SHIT!!! SHIT SHIT SHIT!!!
In the mean time I have been nominated for a Presidential Management Fellowship. Yup I am serious folks, someone went crazy and well it wasn't me this time. I am kind of hoping that management is the active verb in that acronym- my memo might get some good use then. I am sure there will be another memo tomorrow too. Yes I am staying up to watch the debate- even though the last time fucked up my sleeping working schedule all week.
And in a final note, I have conqueored the intricacies of plumbing French. See that tinkle tinkle you might have heard over here... it was not me on the potty. It was chinese water torture otherwise known as a leak in my shower. Water dripping from the ceiling- YEAH. All 2x2 ft of it. So I had the plumber over to take a looksie. It is always a good sign when they say "Ah Putain" repeatedly and then bring a saw upstairs. But the leak isn't my fault it is the 4th floors fault. He managed to cut out a chunk of my drywall ceiling, so everything smells moldy- mmmmm the smell of mold and breakfast. And of course I always feel better having a hole that looks like a rat could fall out of to take my shower under. The nightmares this could spring on me. I think I am going to be taking showers at the pool, for the next two months... I love my apartment.
Oui C'est La Vie en Rose!
Friday, October 01, 2004
So I stayed up until 5 am today. Why would be an idiot and do that you ask? Am I reprising my role as Vampira? Probably- outfit and cabaret singing for the weekend shows. Was it the raging night at the corner karaoke bar? Sure it was but I wasn’t drinking or singing that nasty ass 70’s compilation shit. In the olden days it would have been part of the party till its 1999 theme track. Nowadays it is part of the "I hate Time Zone differences" party line. Oh yeah and I am a political science geek/ responsible citizen too.
Yes everyone, I stayed up to watch the first 2004 Presidential debate. The debate that I thought started at 1am but really started at 3am. I watched all 90 minutes of it, knitting and wide awake. I say stayed up because if I had tried to wake up at that hour… Well those who know me and my "morning face" can pick your asses up off the floor. And stop laughing.
I thought I would rupture an artery or something over all the hot air Bush was trying to huff; but honestly I could handle it as each contestant on each question got no more than 3 minutes. I was impressed with Kerry’s reasoning capacities and his debating skills. No it wasn’t a resounding hum-dinger with fireworks kind of debate. True, there was no clear winner. But Kerry delivered on the goods. He connected, he was on target, he kept Georgie Porgie on the defensive and he was finally able to tackle head on some of the bobblehead’s talking points and wiping the floor with Bush's ass. And those Freudian slips George made (Serious George it was Al Qaeda who attacked us not Saddam, that Arabic stuff might all sound the same... but its not)
And in the interest of playing debate coach (hey I did debate as a “kid”- what do you expect of a legal and logic geek?), I have an attached memo for George Bush.
Memo to George:
1. Stop saying duty- FULL STOP. You make it sounds like doodie. And that is funny shit to say when you look like a chimp. Yes, I am childish enough to laugh at that.
2. When you talk about Iranian Mullahs- please don’t say Moo-las, unless you are calling them cows or the money train. And really that is less diplomatic than forgetting Poland and “denigrading” their contributions.
3. That wandering mumbling consistency bullshit you had on rinse, lather, repeat? How can you lead if you change your position under pressure (or evidence as I like to call it) … after the 8th time with lots of ummm’s in there, even I lost attention. But it will make for a great drinking game. Shots every time he says “wrong place, wrong war, wrong time”. WHEEEE the soldiers might not be tanked appropriately but I will be and I won't have to use Jaeger to get me there!
4. Oh and learn from Daddy do NOT get caught on the screen looking all rattled and irritated when your opponent looks calm, presidential and can effin speak English
A non-subservient citizen of the non-elected President
The real reason I was an idiot to stay up had nothing to do with the fact that watching Bush talk annoys the shit out of me. Amazingly I was able to keep most of my Tourettes under control. And really I felt bad for him; he couldn’t string his thoughts together. There was no coherence or logical rigor to his arguments. There was just a talking point, and repetition like Bush employs only serves to annoy rather than "drive the point home." In small doses without his speech writer and teleprompter, he really does look pathetic. I can only hope that the American public will awaken from this cauchemar to realize it is the enormity of the failures in foreign policy that currently insulate Bush from accountability. Which is the only thing that will regain the US any of it's credibility.
No, it is because I had a meeting this morning with Him Who Stares and Scares on the first draft of my dissertation. At 9:30 am. Which means I had to be ready and out the door by 9am... Ok if it has not been established before (see above note to shut it!); I am soooooo not a morning person. But what was really nice about this meeting is that I was not fluttery nervous! I had a selvedge edge of liberty since the comments from Him the Non-Communicative were mostly positive. And at the end of the day, it is Him the Non-Communicative who is responsible for my grade. When I got there with bags under my eyes and in my hand at 9:30AM, don’t ask how I did it- I don’t know, he of course asked me to wait so he could finish reading the comments from Him the Non-Communicative.
I thought for a while it was going to be really odd after the whole conference set of things and understanding the way his mind works... but you know what it went relatively well. His English was entertaining as always, but no zingers. He was sincere but direct and had some tact. HOLY SHIT Him Who Stares and Scares can employ tact! He even apologized for his "harshness" in advance making reference to his lack of English skills. Seriously, it was like seeing the revelations unfold right in front of my very own eyes. And he was smart and helpful; he wasn’t all asshatty or twisting the pinecones. Even better he laughed at something I said. Oh.Mi.God the sun has shone and there can be humor; about damn time. I think he might even see me as more than a pair of breasts; you know I just might be a human- on the radar. I was completely taken aback.
Yes I have some more incorporation/organizational work to do on this research. And all of his comments were supportive and constructive. Well taken and some make me think; in that great I have more to do- but in an "it will help my paper" kind of way. He even made the nice "it would get a good grade as it is now, but I know you can make it better" comment. Hey people believe in my capabilities, they belive in what I am saying and he can pull out some of those points I need to clear up. They are there, they are! Really at the end of the day, he is a good advisor to have on my panel.
And then to bring things full circle, cause with all my research on welfare nexus triangles I am so over that shape. It seems other French people saw the debate too. As I sit here typing this with my Financial Times and morning OJ in the Crous (think student union/cafeteria/computer lab) I am hearing the "locals" chatter. They talk in French and then make the most hysterical of inserts in dead on Bush English of the Bobblehead’s talking points. And they make an ass out of him even more than I am. I love living in France- where they have a sense of humor and the concept of patriotism isn’t perverted.
Now to get my bravery up and go to a cabine to call the French Foreign Ministry… NOW I am fluttery and nervous!
Thursday, September 30, 2004
So you know that whole French CV creation escapade I went through last earlier this month. And that I heard nothing back from... Yeah that one. The one I had given up on and threw to the wind. Well that would be in the past.
I got a call this afternoon (that I let go to the Repondeur because there was no ID number and often when I get calls like that at almost 7pm it is freaking Canal Plus or someone else trying to sell me something). This is for a position with the French Foreign Minister. You know that guy you see on TV, at the UN, jetting all over the Middle East? Monsieur, Ministre Michel Barnier... yeah him the one I met back in March when he was an EU Commissioner. It is HIS office.
I am in TOTAL and COMPLETE UTTER freak out. The position would be helping the French government to prepare and run the campaign surrounding the ratification of the European Constitution. Oh.Mi.God!! I dont know if my French is up to this. So I have a meeting with Him who Stares and Scares tomorrow, I have a call to make to a man in the Foreign Ministry hoping that my French can pass the muster whilst under pressure and on a cell phone making it all the harder, and I have to try and figure out some of my life.
No Pressure or Anything! When it rains damn does it pour.
Monday, September 27, 2004
You see this?? This is what I look like when I am on speed. Yes I dance like a whack freak. Cant you tell? That is me swinging from the rafters or actually my "termite ridden" Poutres. I am ON TOP OF THE WORLD. I am so excited and I just cant hide it.... ok so I need to stop with the cheesy quotes, but seriously I am giddy- whaddya expect?
I just got my feedback from Him the Non-Communicative. I wasnt expecting it for another week or so but just as I was about to turn off my computer there popped up that email notification. And there went my stomach, I just ate a cookie and I seriously thought I might loose it. I was in KNOTS. He was as always non-communicative. I had completely dreaded opening this email, but I made myself do it immediately. One of those if you are going to take the scab off with the bandaid rip it quick and get it over with kind of deals.
I was SURE I was going to be trashed and cut to the ground. I had this complete feeling like my ass was grass and he was the mower. I expected scathing commentaries or at least cutting and red track comments all over the document. First of all they were blue and much further apart than I expected, and second of all they werent about criticising. No I got nice comments. "What you have here is in pretty good shape," just one more chapter to finish. Now I know that doesnt sound like much but from the economical and non-emotional Him the Non-Communicative that is LAVISH praise.
Most of his "corrections" were things like "this is not a sentence" or "clarify a bit further." There were a handful of you might want to include this or that citation/data, all relevant. Cause Him the Non-Communicative is Smart! Not things of the magnitude such as re-organize this, support your claims, include this, detail that, like I had expected. I expected too many constructive things... he wasnt going at my research like I expected at all. I think he might even like it, or at least agree with it. I am not allowed to read it more than once because I will start creating things between the lines and I am going to bask in this glory here and now!
Do you know how nice it is receive a surprise like this? I cant even begin to describe it. I can NOT control myself. I am singing I am dancing I am going to get a drink and I dont care if it is Midnight on a freaking Monday! This has completely made my week. Here I was thinking I was going to be the first one not to graduate. That I was just not going to make it. But really I think I might! And I might make it with smiles and recommendations. I might even think again of submitting this research like people who I had spoken about it with (but not let them read out of paranoia) suggested. You know in that whole trust the smart people who say things about you that maybe you dont see but that might be there, vein and all.
And can I say after trying to get a meeting with Him Who Stares and Scares set up (for this Friday, though his English keeps saying NEXT Friday- yeah use English it is so much easier to understand) and getting these comments from Him the Non-Communicative (also known as Him Who Is Responsible For Grading the Bloody Dissertation and Granting My Degree) I am just about ready to tell Him Who Stares and Scares to get a new calendar. I wont cause I want the letter of rec, but I am sooooo tempted to email the comments to him before Friday.
This was JUST the nice boot in the derriere that I needed to get my act together to get started with the last chapter. I have all I need to put it together (well all but one book but that is not a big deal) and I can get started right away. I think tomorrow is going to be a good day you know!
Sunday, September 26, 2004
Metro Man to Save the Day......
I have to thoroughly check myself when I leave the flat. I make sure I have all my accoutrements. Money- Check, Camera- Check, Chapstick- Check, Keys- Check... Am I forgetting anything?? Nah...
So today I woke myself up and I went to have a lovely brunch/lunch with LOVELY ladies. It was a wonderful sunny, lazy type of morning and a brunch with people that were easy to be around. I could be me and they were just LOVELY. And I ate divine lemon meringue, mmmmmm.....
And then I went to the Metro. I have spent most of this summer walking. It's good for the ass and the pocketbook, so who am I to complain. But I forgot about the freaks. You would think that might mean that I didnt renew my freak magnet. I mean why would I need to renew it this year? You however would be wrong. Oh so VERY wrong.
So with a "wow I wish you were staying longer" feeling I sent my lovely ladies on their way to go deep under water. Then I jogged over and got on my Metro home. 15 seconds after getting in the car the radar goes off the deep end. The magnet polarization can NOT be denied, forces of attraction have all centered on me in my Metro car. There is this big man with dreds spiking out his head. Not in that cute Busta Rhymes kind of way, but in that "I have Martian Antennae coming out my head to talk with the Mothership" kind of way.
He starts by asking me if I would like to go get something to eat with him. I dont look at him- there are some crazies you know better than to look at; I just respond no- thank you. At this point that sinking feeling starts coming into my stomach... oh shit did I send my freak magnet renewal off in the mail and not know it?? Was that my credit card I remembered or was it...Well he then started yelling at me and talking with his other friends. Two of whom need dentures and they are not in the geriatric group either. He is yelling all sorts of things. And by yelling I mean SHOUTING at the top of his lungs. I have to respect that I guess. If you are going to make a scene well, this one knew how to do it right.
And to do it right you must decry the injustice of life and inhumanity I display towards it by not going to get something to eat with you. You must tell everyone how the pretty people shame you. How you are never good enough. How you like pate and fois gras too. And then you must lay into her Royal Bitchiness as he referred to me. Detailing people like me who think we are better than every day Martians. How I take issue with his ancestors being from the colonies (umm yes he said the colonies...). How I must be some uptight kind of bitch and only he could remove that kind of uptightness. How I am the kind of woman who likes to buy her bread only out of the oven.
The two other men who are crammed in by me give me looks of condolence. You know that kind of "I am sorry the crazies are picking on you" kind of look. I make the BIG mistake of responding- saying well what do you do with the crazies? You dont effin talk to them... and in case you forgot ALL people on the Metro are crazies. Damn when will I ever learn.
And yes the story gets even better. As our Martian Freak starts telling the whole Metro car that he is going to PSYCHOANALYZE me. Damn who knew you could get all that for the price of a Metro ticket. Shit if I only had known I wouldnt be paying my shrink I just would have bought a plane ticket to Paris and a Carte Orange. Probably would have saved me money too.
He starts hypothesizing and countering many things about me. I like to put my jam on the bread upside down. I do not like painting my toenails. At this point I am laughing out loud, staring out the window but laughing. I am NOT making a single word of this up. I mean seriously I couldnt make this shit up if I tried. This is one of those things in life I ask does this happen to anyone else? NO TINK JUST YOU. But little did I know my adventure with Martian Man for 8 Metro stops would be upped. Oh yes that "normal" looking guy who was all I am sorry they are bothering you... yeah HIM.
He follows me through my changes to my stop and gets out of the Metro with me. He first trys to small talk- oh I work just right by here, I hear a bit of an accent where are you from. Oh that's nice BYE. And then starts hassling me about do I want to get something to drink with him. I say no but thank you. Thinking shit did I upgrade my Freak Magnet when I renewed this year? Look Mademoiselle, I am not like those other guys... Sure you're not, all the same I have other things to do- no thank you. He goes off yelling at me how I am a Bitch.
Dude if that was all I had to make clear, I would have whipped out my Bitch Badge with pride and taken care of this at the beginning. Then again I wouldnt have a story to share either. But I still stand by my customer service assessment. They need to warn people that the freak magnet has SERIOUS kicking power. This is the shit that makes Italian men hump your leg, this is what makes German men try to follow you into the bathroom, and it is what makes that man from Mars think he is a Psychiatrist.
This Message Is Brought To You By The Letter OW-
I am feeling the pain today, really FEELING the pain. I dont know what I was thinking, thinking that I could jump into the energizer bunny life set. Well I know what I was thinking. And I should have known better. Every muscle in my whole fucking body is talking to me in ways, manners and on terms we have not discussed for years. On other days this might have made me happy, feeling can be a good thing, but like I said I should have known better.
Please pray that I can figure out how to make this pain go away (let the warm water in my shower work PLEASE and no Karaoke tonight) and get myself out of this mess. I have such an innate ability to get myself into a mess and well I need to learn how to get out I guess. Though I really think it might be better to just learn my freaking limitations and not get into the situation in the first place. But then the letter OW wouldnt be so bloody popular to shout in the flat today.
Monday, September 20, 2004
I woke up early this morning (7am) and it wasnt light out like it has been for the past couple months. I opened my window and there was a bite of chill in the air- crisp like the first bite into a granny smith apple. Ileaned out and watched the peaceful silence that was my rue. The rue and horizon was clear and green, but it felt like something internal had shifted. My internal clock's way saying to me that Summer was over. It was time for the flip flops and strappy dresses to go back into storage. Saying that while Fall might not be here, it is on the way.
Something about the changes in seasons makes me feel like I have a fresh start. I can start anew, I can change what I want, I can shed my skin and grow a new one. I dont really have a favorite season; probably a side effect of growing up in a location that really didnt have any seasons besides Summer. I respond differently to each season, loving them all equally and additionally disenchanted with portions of all seasons. But when one shifts I feel like it's my chance.
I am not exactly ready for the change in seasons; I am enjoying this bit of shoulder that I have here right now, sunny crisp and just right (23C/75F). But something about me is ITCHING for Fall. itching to shed my skin, become something new. Itching for the warm snuggly days with a sweater to keep the wind at bay. Looking forward to those days where I go down to the river and watch the leaves change through the glorious colors of Fall (I will miss my Seattle Japanese Maples in the vivid reds though). Where I can curl up with my knitting dreaming of the day when I will have a fireplace to do that in front of (even if it is an electric one!).
But more so I want to wear my boots again, my thigh high boots that were my favorite purchase last year. So much so that I want to get another pair! Not only because my feet look like shit and I cant get that needed pedicure, but also becuase cool boots will make you feel like you can handle anything. And if I cant handle it at least I can kick it hard :)
I think that reflects my mood today, in need of a stiff steel toed boot up the derriere to do the things have been putting off for way too long in my life; and at the same time a kick from my boot to those loose ends that I am tying up in life which are making me a bit antsy.