This is Not How to Spring Forward

Oh how I've missed starting my mornings being afraid to get out of bed to see how I *really* feel.  After stepping away from the bourbon for about six days, I decided to rejoice in the Saturdayness that was, and brought out Mr. Meet your Makers.  The end result being me feeling somewhat like garbage this morning.  Not a NYC corner pile on pick up day....just a small office waste bucket really.  But even feeling like a few crumpled pieces of paper or an empty egg and cheese container is still dabbling in the Crap Arts.  It'll be a few hours of self nurture and it will dissipate.  We finally made it to the berry applesauce and I did manage a piece of toast. Right now I'm doing what all folks on Sunday morning who over imbibed would love to do....cook and fill the house with the scent of vanilla pancakes!

My coffee has barely been touched, my water bottle bears a sash that says "How you like me NOW?"

A couple more hours and this will be a funny memory - can't wait!  

In the throes of trying to stomach making my coffee this morning, I stepped on the tiniest chip of glass.  The kind that is disproportionately painful to its actual size.  It was so small that I couldn't grip my fingernails around it to pull it out.  But I noticed something.  Remember when we were kids and would hear people say something to the effect of "How about I stomp on your foot to make you forget your headache"?  There's something to that.  The entire time I worked on getting this tiny piece of Satan out of my foot, I forgot completely about moaning and whining from the hangover.  But as you can tell, it is out now.  

So I am listening to some archived Big Broadcast from WFUV, sitting on a stool and sipping what I hope will be motivation.  Our trip to San Diego and Mesa is in three weeks.  The kid is getting her wicked cough on now, so that should be settled before we go.  We will see one of my very best friends get married and now that I think of it, an alcohol free wedding may not be so bad after all.  

After the wedding, we'll head to Mesa, Arizona to go be with Miz Eye, my oldest and my awesome Grandwolfie.  I made a date last night with the closest thing that I'll have to a son, Grandwolfie's dad, so we can go play DDR and get our Cheers on.  I can't wait.  Because I'm horrible at DDR.  

Humanling and I are so psyched about every aspect of this trip that we're even looking forward to the layover in Chicago for eight hours.  

And so, I must now bribe the Gods to light a good enough fire under my ass so that I may carry on this beautiful Sunday as previously planned, before that 3rd glass of bourbon last night.

Coffee Rambles and Ant Mobs

Sunday morning, kiddies!  Porch time for my date with Yello Jacquet, coffee and laptop.  It wasn't until my hand touched the doorknob on the way outside that I realized I have no idea what I look like right now.  My hair is all feral, my sleeping pants have holes in them (and boy is the stone cold!) and I don't wear shoes out here in the mernin'.  

I left a box of stale cereal out here yesterday, thinking that I would put it out on the lawn once the rain stopped,  for the crows or whatever likes stale honey kissed cheerios.  I came out here this morning and there are a bazillion tiny ants who flash mobbed the scene.  I've since taken the box away, shook it out on the lawn and then shook out the box, taking the plastic out as well.  Some ants were still stuck in there and I get that buried alive feeling if I think even one ant will be stuck in the plastic or the box with no way out before it hits the garbage.  Both pieces of garbage are resting on the stoop to give these stragglers a chance to figure it out.  They must know who I am though.  They're taking their sweet time and there's no way I can rest unless every one of them is out.

  I'm still haunted by a spider episode from a couple of weeks ago.  I was driving and saw that overnight a fabulous looking iridescent green spider had woven a web on the outside of my car, linking onto the side mirror.  I thought I should pull over and remove this strong and courageous soul, but when there are cars behind me I feel pressured not to interrupt the traffic flow.  This happens when I want to pull over and take photos as well.  Although sometimes I will assert myself with a right turn signal and pull over.  I got onto a part of this small highway and the web was just furiously moving up and down, like super plucking a rubber band.  (I wanted that to be one word - rubberband, but spell check is being an irritating nit pick about it.)  I gave in and pulled over from doing 55 mph, looked to the side of my door and spider was gone.  Big Giant Sigh.  I was too late.  I'd thought about saving him for over two minutes at this point and dragged my feet too long.  I could only imagine the long road behind me, where he would have flown off and if he'd have a chance of not getting run over after all that.  Isn't that life though?  You think you're doing one thing and then suddenly it seems lijke the wheel in your hands is no longer supporting your turns?  I think too much about these things.  So much that I fear if I ever get over my fear of flying and go to France, I'll be laughed back out for not eating any and all beings with eyes.  They'll probably won't even send me out with a complimentary cheese wheel.  

I've been jonesing for a Sunday NY Times for awhile.  But they're $5.00.  Something that used to help the gas tank 20 years ago.  

I'm pretty happy about my daughter's choice in music lately.  I've got Jazz24.org playing on my laptop much of the time when WFUV.org is playing 60s and 70s type rock (I am so allergic to much of it, sleepy, gray colored boredom).  WFUV plays excellent music - but Sunday mornings I run the risk of crossing paths with kryptonite if I put that station on.  Last night since it was a weekend night, I let the Humanling sleep next to me.  I had the tv off for a good part of the night until SNL came on.  As she fell asleep she heard the Jazz24 dude say "Thank you for listening" and panicked.  "Is it over?!?" She was melted butter once again and the world was right when I said it's not over, it's just a thanks.  She commented again this morning how much she loves this station.  Man.  I wish my parents listened to this stuff when I was younger!  They didn't...they were the um....60s and 70s classic rock fans.  Or my dad was.  My mother loved disco and my heart beats to it.  

Before I was ten years old however, I found myself also enjoying classical music.  I had a radio by my bed and would frequently put on classical stations.  Probably the result of growing up in a violent household....anything soothing was welcomed.  However, I will say that I also equated classical music with Christmas music, which always brought about a soothing, cozy feeling.   It's all about the comfort levels.  And I hope with this Harvest Moon, I will pack up the rest of my things and leave Drama land, to go back to the comforts of my own life.  I have a lot of years to make up for that haven been shaven off from the last few years of stress.  So to my own excited and loud mind I say, Shhhh....we're healing.  

Last Stop: My Mind Without Your Storms

Sitting outside on the stoop on a sunny and cool Saturday morning.  It's more cool of course when the sun powders its nose with a cloud.  The sweater goes on.  Then the sun is back out in full force and the sweater is a burden.  Humanling is playing the DSi, as we keep each other company.  A Thousand Welcomes on the radio stream.  One of those nice things that Flip did introduce me to.  This radio station, WFUV., that was usually on in our kitchen.  He did bring a lot of new and interesting things into my life.  I hope I did the same for him.  Unfortunately when communication is necessary, there is no Toast (see previous post).  And so I turn to my teacher, Thich Nat Hahn today to see if his offerings coincide with my Now.  Of course, his messages are usually needed at all times.  And what I am feeling lately, well by "lately" I guess I mean the last three years is what he summed up.  

I'll copy and paste but I know that when I do that, my loverly lavender color changes to white.  Here is today's find:

There are days when you feel that it’s not your day, everything goes wrong. And the more effort you make, the situation becomes worse. Of course you have gone through days like that in your life. You fail in everything, you suffer, you g

et angry, people blame you, you are not happy, you are frustrated. And you tell yourself that you have to make more effort, but the more effort you make, the worse the situation becomes, and then you know that it’s time to stop, it’s time to stop everything, it’s time to go home to yourself and take refuge in yourself. You have to close your windows, the eyes, the ears; you have to close the five windows. You should not be in touch with the outside any more; you have to close the windows of your hermitage. Because there is a hermitage within yourself – that is the island of self that I want you to discover. If you continue to be on the outside, then you continue to suffer, you know. That is why in moments like that, you have to go home to the island of self, and the first thing you do is exactly what I did with my hermitage, to close the five windows. And you know that eye, ear, nose, tongue, body, mind, are the six windows you close. Don’t look, don’t listen, don’t touch, and don’t think. Stop everything in order to prevent the strong wind from the outside to continue to blow in and to make you miserable, because the eye is a window, the ear is a window, the mind is a window, and if you keep them open, the wind of suffering, the wind of disturbance will continue to come and make the situation worse and worse. Don’t try any more. Stop trying and shut the windows. You shut also the door, and you have to go to the chimney and make a fire. You want to get a feeling of warmth, cosiness, and comfort by practising mindful breathing, going home to yourself. And rearrange everything, your feelings, your perceptions, your emotions, they are all scattered all over, it’s a mess. You have to recognise each feeling, each emotion, and you have to collect them like I collected all the sheets of paper that were scattered a little bit all over. Practise mindfulness and concentration, and tidy up everything within yourself. You are going home, you have gone home to your island of self, and you are transformed into a place that is cosy and pleasant for you to take refuge in. Everyone has a hermitage within, very safe, very cosy, very comfortable, very calm, and they have to go home to that hermitage.
If you rely on the outside, you get lost.

That is why you have to go home and rely on something that is reliable, that is the island of self.

With Flip, any communication basically was received wrong.  Maybe sometimes it was me saying it wrong.  I'm a better writer than speaker.  However, many times he just is in such a hut of hurt that he's walled himself in without openness to see possibilities of someone trying to reach out while being discontent but with love instead of malice.  I try to hit the restart button daily.  Some days I am better with it than others.  Some days I bite the bait but am content with myself to say that I have not followed my anger to places where I would be encompassed in a lesson of Advanced Regret.  So with all renouncement of I'm So Awesome, Look What I'm Doing, I do have to acknowledge my progress in dealing with reaction when it comes to him.  I'm not done though because I am still holding it inside and boiling.  I'm just not unleashing it on him in the ways that would have me spewing venom and then later on looking back and wishing that I hadn't.  He tests me though.  Severely.  Still with the name calling.  Still emails laced with vulgarity and vitriol.  I can respond in kind or do the hard thing and resist.  While I am aware of this test, I know that I have gone to my island as stated above.  Only I haven't shut off the outside.  I moved out months ago to get away from the barrage of negativity and that was step one.  Booking the island to go to.  Going there.  Now time to shut off the communication and emerge in a better state.  But because I feel bad for him with now, no car at all, I offered to drive him in any dire need - groceries, etc.  I don't think he will take me up on it since I did say that I shouldn't even offer due to his treatment of me.  Guess I could have left that part out.  

Guess really, I should leave out the whole part of communication with the "outside" that has been the noise, the environment, the weather of my life for three years and shutter my windows.     

   

Grandma's Role

Whew. That was a good vent.  

And now, I drink my beer and listen to a radio program called The Big Broadcast.  I'd normally just put it on normal radio but ah...I live in an area where nothing comes in except the one genre that you've been saying you hate for the last thirty years.  And ok, eventually I got used to the country songs.  

But my favorite is this old jazz from the 1920s and 30s that they play every Sunday night.  I keep my Grandmother's ashes here in the living room.  She moves from house to house with me.  This way when I walk in a new residence I can declare to any roaming spirits, "No thanks, I brought my own.".  Fiesty Italian woman who was quite flapperish in her ways, born in NYC.  I think she modifies our similar likes.  I can like something a lot but then I wonder if she doesn't come through and make sure that I like it so much so that she can have it too.  

So ok, Grandma.  We'll listen to the Big Broadcast tonight.  I'm out of bourbon or scotch so the high alcohol content beer will have to do.