You are Invited!

I'm not sure where to sit. I don't normally frequent these kinds of parties but I've ignored the invitation long enough! Head of the table? I'm the guest of honor? My very own Pity Party!

Yep. I'm usually quite a sight, bobbing around in the waters, buoy that I typically am. (And it's fun to say Buoy outloud. Try it....no one's listening! Say it or you have to leave my party without a favor bag!) I noticed yesterday though, there was a rather large foot sized cloud stomping on my usual lightweight vibrance of energy.

My mate has been out of work since January. Health reasons. Hip Surgeries. Lyme Disease. Recurring Lyme Disease. And a photo spread for next month's issue of Unemployed Now Because Of: Hernia Surgery.

That's all understandable. I have no beef with the ill. I do from time to time question procrastination issues, such as actually calling to see if he qualifies for disability or if he is going to continue to wait for Ed McMahon to reassemble himself from the dead, knock on the door and hand him a new financial life.

He's been in a funk lately and I'm sure many of you have experienced a depressed loved one. (They usually taste better slightly braised than seared.) Either way, you take the moments as best as you can and hope that what just came out of your mouth was uplifting instead of another bullet point on their list of self-loathing.

I thought I was doing a pretty decent job of financially crossing t's and dotting i's around here with just my salary to umbrella three people.

I shouldn't think. It leads to things like unicorns and star colored scene sets where everything talks to you.

I walked around Trader Joe's yesterday to pick up the usual things that are highly coveted around here. Trader Joe's is an incredibly reasonably priced store. I feel like I'm stealing when I read the more wholesome ingredients and the price is just as good as those 2000 pack of partially hydrogenated this and that cookies at Walmart.

Our budget is so tight right now and we're a month behind on the rent. The rent is the main focus. The brakes on my car are so tense about life that they are grinding heavily. The electricity will need paying at the same time the rent is scheduled, along with the wave of my magic auto wand that will fix my car.

I stepped into line and surveyed the current layout of the endcap nearby. Candy coated chocolate mints, chocolate dipped star shaped cookies and hot peppermint cocoa in a beautiful green tin. Yes I know there is a theme here. But I was brought up in the land of the brave, the free and the chocolate food pyramid.

The depressing part was actually not picking up the tin of peppermint hot cocoa. I imagined how much my 11 year old would love some hot chocolate and how delicious it would be. The price was a mere $5.

Just five dollars.

That I couldn't spare.

This lead me to flick on my flashlight for a clue to my current reality. The Christmas tree we bought last year was over a hundred dollars. This year it is all we have to keep gas in the car, food on the table, a roof over our heads and some presents for my daughter.

The tin of peppermint hot cocoa that I can't afford tips it because there is no fallback. I'm it. I'm staring down and up the rope from this toothpick juttance of a cliff and see no one else.

So sit down with me for a moment and let's get it all out. It gets better after we stare it in the face, point and tell it how much we don't appreciate a visit. Then we move on. Somehow.

Feel free to gripe in the comments section for today is the day! We'll get back to our regularly scheduled smiley faces tomorrow.

Use Your....Im-A-Gin-A-tion

If you’re a coffee drinker, you’ll understand this post like you understand how if you say something slightly negative about your own mom, it’s ok, but if someone else does they’d better join the witness protection program.

Note: When I use the term Coffee Drinker, I don’t include people who are ‘experimenting’ with cold, flavored coffees with whipped cream and a handful of powder for your chaffed ass. I’m talking about As Strong As You Can Get Without it Tasting Burnt. I’m talking I’d Grow Curly Yet Silky Chest Hair From It If I Weren’t a Woman, strong. I’m talking My French Press will Kick Your Filtered Mr. Coffee Crap’s tush right back to Columbia.

I can only really drink the coffee that we make here at home. Not true. I really only WANT to drink the coffee we make at home. We use Starbucks, whole bean coffee. We have our favorites and none of them are under the radar of “Bold”.

Due to proximity and not jazzed about driving out of the way by a half hour to pick up a bag of coffee, I chose a bag of “Medium” intensity Columbian Starbucks whole bean from the local Hannafords. I am truly grateful that Hannafords would ever bother to carry whole bean because it is clear by what’s on the shelf that this is an incredibly Do It For Me world, roads everywhere paved with bags of Ground Coffee.

All that was really left was Columbian. Huh. Okay, we’ll try that. I squinted critically at “Medium” but put it in the cart anyway.

Admittingly, I used to be a Dunkin Donuts junkie. I also had my starter coffee days in my early 20’s when it had to be light and disgustingly sweet, flavored if available. AND it had to come in a Styrofoam cup with that pink and orange logo.

Blech. Never again unless I wake up on DD island with no oars to escape.

Ok, Columbian Starbucks. Show me whatchya got.

Not bad…a bit light for my taste but not bad. But I have a way of dealing with these types of caffeine related dilemmas.

I PRETEND. I pretend that I am at someone’s house and that they have offered me a cup of coffee and this is what I was given. Usually I can handle coffee at someone else’s house because that’s what they have. THAT’S IT. It’s a wonderful gesture to serve a guest coffee and that makes it even more palatable. Perhaps it’s a survival mechanism. Or a Pollyanna-ish denial of reality. Or even just plain old overload of gratitude and needing a place to channel it.

Either way, it helps the medicine go down!

And this one wasn't planned, but if you look up 'coffee bold' in Google Images, it's what showed up. T'aint my fault.

They're Playing My Old Dream

Ever have a dream that incorporates a song? A song that isn’t even your favorite and you don’t consciously think that you identify with?

Experience had, circa 1995 or thereabouts.

I was living with a pretty pop cultured guy at the time….enough that he rivaled my own knowledge. He was also heavily into sports…one of those things that I didn’t quite understand, seeing as I mostly dated musicians and the succession of them didn’t seem interested in cleats when there were drumsticks and guitar strings to be tinkered with.

I woke up one morning to find that I’d been tapped in the dream by a Kurtis Blow song. I turned to my then mate and told him that someone on the sidewalk was singing “They’re playing Baaaaaa-sket- Baaaaallllll” to me. He laughed. Until he realized that there was the possibility, at my insistence, that this song truly existed Out There. And that he didn’t know it despite the duality of being a Rap Master AND major basketball fan.

I couldn’t prove it as we’d never heard of the internet. I just had to wait on blind faith that eventually the song would someday to him, be served.

Well. Fifteen years later, just in case the song hasn’t made its way to him personally, I’ll put it out there universally.

FYI - see if you can note probable video style differences between 1995 and 2010. Hint: Too many sheep used in 1995 where floss would be used now.

At Least I'm Not Always Talking to Myself

My daughter and I finished doing a little food shopping yesterday and were going to put the bags in the car. Sometimes people park intimately close so that you feel like you're suddenly feuding family.

An elderly woman, with her own daughter (who I surmise is the architect of the parking job), saw how close we were and seemed concerned, but friendly, about getting into her designated vehicle.

I assured her that I would hop in my car real quick and pull out so she could get in.

Keeping my end of the social quandry bargain, I jump in the car and pull out.

I hear Humanling's deadpan tone: Talking to an old lady?

Me: Yeah. Have YOU talked to an old lady today?

Sam: No.

Me: Well then.

And let's just say Kudos to the kid for not answering in the weisenheimer way that I would have as a child, with "I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

You're a Positive One, Mr. Grinch

All of the Not Wanna Go Somewhere’s in the House say Yeeeeeahhhhhhh!

Hello?

Is it just me?

Thanksgiving day is indeed a day to gather with those you want to spend time with. And those that you feel you HAVE to spend time with. And those that you wouldn’t see any other time but the family is hovering over you with nine shades of guilt if you don’t show up. But that’s not me….I heard about it through a friend.

For me, the one thing that must happen, is the viewing of Santa Claus at the end of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. An absolute must. Otherwise, the opportunity is gone for a full year! And no other Santa will do…not the Salvation Army Claus’s, not the one at the mall (who really is a fabulous replica!), nor the one that shows up at various craft fair events. It must be the REAL Santa…the one that I see on the TV after Kanye West sings and Spiderman floats past.

We all have our different ways of spending Thanksgiving and what it means to us. Some people have Ground Hog Thanksgiving and it’s the same year after year and that’s what makes them happy. Some people flit around from year to year taking it as it comes and riding the wind surf.
If you haven’t guessed, Inevitable Regeneration is about the latter. The glittery wind surf. The seat of the pants on fire from all the flying!

I admit that this year I thought it would be cool to hang home with humanling. It’s been such a crazy week of work and overload at my job that I thought staying at home would be awesome. Cook a vegetarian feast, wear pretty dresses to the candlelight table and relax! That was my plan and I was sticking to it!

…twas not to be. I have a problem living with Aftermath. I don’t respond well to any type of guilt and have even been accused of wearing the best Guilt Armor there is. To me, guilt is nothing more than trying to get your own way when reason isn’t working. In order to avoid the massive delay in enjoying the four day weekend, reason won over with me….although it wasn’t reasoning from my mate. It was reasoning with myself that YES, I can create an ultra special vegetarian Thanksgiving with my daughter, just me and her at home, BUT….when honeypie comes home from the relatives house, there isn’t going to be a joyous moment for Quite Some Time. And it will become a encore in future arguments, rearing itself again and again as Proof of my emotional black hole.

So I went! And it went as I thought.

Did I feel incredibly carsick on the way there? You betcha!

Was I told that there would be no animal product in certain foods and then eat it only to find out that there was? Absolutely!

Were there odd moments of noticing that of all the couples there, my mate and I were the only ones not sharing an iota of affection and that I had to hear at least three stories involving ex-girlfriends? Kinda sorta. NOT! The answer is Positively affirmative!

How. Ever.

I did not feel carsick on the way home. The darkness probably helped.

The turkey broth in the stuffing was so minute that it didn’t matter.

My mate eventually came out of the bathroom and reached for my hand (after washing HIS, hopefully!)

Dessert was incredible with apple crumb pie nestled next to a blob of delish vanilla ice cream!

And many many laughs were had. Me included.

And … I won my ESPN Streak for the Cash pick. Dallas lost. By three points.

Holidays ARE compromise AND fun AND stressful at times. But anything can be overcome with good dessert.

I fully recommend Wind surfing and enjoying it.

To Feed Or Not to Feed....

~ I will not eat that slice of pumpkin pie yet!

But I can just taste it!

A day at work and a rare doubly sinful treat – I bought a slice of pie with lunch.

My rationale: it is Thanksgiving week. Pumpkin pie is atmospheric! It’s empowering to the fall season! To the week of Thanksgiving!

And now it waits for me in the fridge. Anticipation with one squirt of whipped cream!

Who doesn’t love a little delaying of gratification?

Give yourself a moment to desire….and then give in!

The Well Worn Path of Insanity

I have marvelous friends in places I’d never have thought to look under.

Today was an especially trying day….I originally wanted the day off and in the middle of an incredibly busy week, successfully snatched it! Only to start the day off with my mate a bit nit picky on my Humanling for no reason that I could really validate….and boy, do I like to validate. It just seemed like he woke up on the wrong side of the barbed wire and although I could get away, the child couldn’t.

That there is what I call an Unfortunate Situation. Simply because mamas usually don’t enjoy watching their babies getting chewed up or out. Especially for reasons that are beyond the veil.

I spoke up and in this house, if you speak up for your child, you are subscribing to that magazine known as “Dividing the Household”. Sure you are! It says so on page 6. Don’t try to have an opinion, just know that whatever your thoughts are on sticking up for the child, you have committed the parting of the red sea straight down the family dinner table. Now repent.

I did something that I don’t normally do in this instance. I decided not to stay home and “enjoy” my day off full of fighting. I packed up, put up my dirty hair, and took my unbrushed teeth to work after dropping off my bundle of tweenness.

I then spend the day attending several Mind F**k events including, but not limited to; The Phone Rings every 15 minutes because your angry mate is calling (again), Email Wars and Your Mate has Called the Main Line to See if you are Lying and Not Really At Work.

That last one….a possible dealbreaker. High on my scroll of “Uncool” items.

What I did learn throughout the day was this ~ my friends have opinions. And one pipeline from brain to brain. None of them wavered from another with where they stood – and these were all separate conversations. A couple of them even offered me a place to stay with my not so innocent but definitely adorable Humanling. And for that, my body relaxes for a moment. I have options. I have friends who are willing to give me the key to a new life if I so needed it. It’s an amazing feeling and not taken lightly.

It’s like Christmas for my thristy cells that want to open and breathe life and enjoy every moment!

So now the real thought is….do I bring in the Clash? Should I stay or Should I Go Now?

Blended families are a picnic alright…with fireants. I know they can work….people manage. But somehow here, it seems like the norm at best is a small resistance. He doesn’t like the way she does this that and all other things, and she in turn, resents him for calling her on every little thing and forcing her to fix it.

I am feeling more in the middle – and of course Rawr….Mama Bear.

Even tonight, as we are all in the house, creating our separate dinners, doing our separate things, I hear him from the couch, telling me that I am coddling her. That the after fight coddles are happening basically. As he cuddled with his dog on the couch. Why can’t I coddle her? Hasn’t she been through enough regarding self esteem, mental and emotional components not unscathed?

So he resorts to what he does during these things and turns the volume up on the tv quite loud. He enjoys drama movies…the kind with sudden bursts of noise, or perhaps a squeely violin moment. I hate those. I’d rather immerse myself in cartoons.

So I do what I wish I could most other times….wait for him to leave the room and hit the volume button lower.

Breathing in possibilities.

Forty Sit on my Bum

Dear 41,



Thank you.



Love,



Sarcasm.





Forty-one has started off quite strangely for me this year! Perhaps to keep me surprised and not thinking that just because I've gained another year, that I've gained foresight and an abundance of wisdom.



A couple of days before my birthday, we had a cupcake contest at work...one that involved a fog machine, cut wood, homemade buildings and everything you might think you have to do if you've ever watched an episode of Ace of Cakes. I must mention....we did a 10 second dance. From Thriller. I wonder if I should subscribe to Elderly Embarassment at this point since out of the four of us, three of us were in our 20s. I know, I rechecked my drivers license. I wasn't one of them.



The day was spent in a ridiculously hot conference room, with candies, cookies and all sorts of sugar incarnations surrounding us. I made a few killer werewolves that I'd committed to memory from the internet. It was a great time had by all! And the first day of Uh, What is Going on With my Body?



I spent the day in a sweat....my face a nice shade of beet. And although I am the Queen of All that hugs and loves a sugar droplet, on this day, I didn't touch a drop, but for a HALF of a Milano cookie. For reals.



The next day I noticed that I was hot and chilly.....sweating and shivering. And funny enough, maybe I felt a few weird pains in odd places...but wasn't sure.



I was sure two days later however, when I realized that even though I was at work and had plenty of space to work, I couldn't concentrate, would start heating up out of nowhere and then would go through teeth chattering alternately. After a number of pain zingers in my thigh, ankle, hip and wrists, I decided that since 2/3 of our home was being treated for Lyme disease, perhaps I wasn't as lucky as I thought.



One last zinger caused my finger to pop over to the telephone and dial my longtime doctor. 3:15? Leave work early? Well.....Ok.



When I got there I found out that I had a 102.7 fever (yes! Validation for leaving early!). Now being the day before my birthday, my doctor had a couple of fun things in mind to help me celebrate. First, a deep up the nose swabbing for a flu test. VIOLATED! Also, a blood test for Lyme (normally not an issue but either I was sensitive or this particular needle operator was NOT a smooth vampire). And then the red ribbon gift - ordered to stay in bed with fluids for the weekend. WHAT?!? But it's my birthday!



Even if I don't feel like getting out of bed, it's still my birthday.



What did I really want for my birthday? I don't know. I thought it might involve a marriage and a bookstore. Or a marriage TO a bookstore.



What it was though was as wonderful as it could have been for how crappy I was feeling. My mate gave me a wonderful 10 year old Bonsai tree with tools! I am so Mr. Miyagi! However, I didn't yet have the ambition to read the instructions or do much with it.



My handsome honey was then kind enough to somehow stumble on a great video about crows and watch most of it with me. I heart them and well, he has his reasons for viewing them as ominious creatures. We also caught a wonderful video of Steve Martin doing a song called....THE CROW! Talk about surprises....I had no idea that Steve Martin played the banjo!



I tried to take a walk with him and the dog but cried for much of it. In fact, cried a lot during this illness. Commercials, NPR, my bonsai, the neighbor asking me how I'm feeling....it all crumbled me to tears. I started to wonder who the hell kicked me out of my mind and body and took the controls.



Even my sleeping mind....nightmares. That someone was trying to kidnap me and that feeling of running, hiding, curling up under things. Trying to scream and no voice comes out. Nightmares about evil spirits posessing my body and floating me around a dark room. I suppose a major lack of control.



I am on doxycycline....even though my Lyme test also came back negative. I suppose the failure rate has something to do with it. But my shooting pains have not gone away.



In the meantime, I have this gorgeous 20 wk size tumor that graces my otherwise slender body. Like a garter snake that swallowed a pregnant bison. That's me. I'm waiting for folks at work to ask when I'm due as soon as I become terrible at sucking in my gut. And this thing wants attention!

Apparently in the last 11 months it seems to have grown more than usual. And then there's the bleeding that started a few days after I started enjoying my new relationship with antibiotics. This week, I will have another non celebratory ultrasound to take a look at my perfectly large, round fibroid.

I will say this ahead of time....I have no idea what is in store. I'm fairly young and usually optimistic...until left alone in my head! I did recently have a CBC and that was normal. Earlier this year, the first ultrasound displayed the same sphere of mass, and I was told it was fine.

I am searching for that silver lining....that thread that I grab onto in most, if not all, situations and decide that things are and will be fine.

As I hold out my hand toward this Friday, I'm pretty sure that I feel the sweet smooth thread, just waiting to expose how good things really are.