I am completely stressed out as I don't have any significant work for the month of October.
Now that I am a day worker its unsettling to know there are 31 days in which I don't actually have anything lined up.
It is probable work will trickle in, yet my gut is in a knot as I can't help myself from staring at the October calendar without any appointments other than a teeth cleaning on the 8th. I suppose it frees me up to decorate for Halloween, yet I remain unsure what I will do with the remaining 30 3/4 days of the month after this is accomplished.
This week is full, and as a result I am also concerned I don't have enough time to get everything done by the end of the month.
"You are never happy," Gioconda said tonight after I expressed how I was completely exhausted from working so much this week, coupled with the potential despair of not having any work for the entire month of October, and that the combination of these two things had given me a sore throat.
She has a valid point. Objectively, it would appear as though I am relatively unhappy being busy, yet equally- or arguably more dissatisfied when my calendar is barren.
"Living with you can be so difficult," she said.
"You have no idea," I replied.
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
Monday, September 28, 2009
The Truth About Naked
Last night I had a dream I wore a sports bra and shorts to a deposition. Certainly improper attire for such an event.
When I was a kid I used to have dreams of showing up at school naked. Last nights dream must have been the adult equivalent to my childhood nude school dreams. Clearly it has something to do with feelings of vulnerability as I really don't like to be without clothes so I am relatively confident it has nothing to do with an unexplored perversion.
Unfortunately at this juncture in my life all my perversions have already been explored.
I prefer to be fully clothed, in fact I make an concerted effort to spend as little time possible without clothes. I have it down to about 13 minutes a day, which is the approximate time it takes me to shower each morning. I used to take a shower at night, but found it was too much time for me to be naked, so unless I am exceptionally dirty I will forgo the bedtime shower.
I think I was more tolerant of my own nudity as a teen and young adult, but around 35 I began to consider showering with my underwear on in order to cut down on the hours per week I spent fully naked.
Its not about body issues, I have the opposite of anorexia. A few years back I went to a friend's wedding in Kaui. It wasn't until I saw the photographs- me with my white belly hanging ever so slightly over my shorts and cut off shirt- me with back fat under my sports bras hoisting up yet another Miller Genuine Draft beer- me with three chins- that I realized I was fat.
"Why didn't you tell me I was obese," I asked my friend Ann.
She shrugged, " We were all having such a good time I didn't want to bring it up."
Although I did loose a few pound after that trip I remain a little tubby, but I don't really care. I have a friend who works out every single day, watches everything she eats and rarely drinks beer. Although she looks good, she doesn't look good enough to me to go to such lengths- cost benefit analysis- I'll stick with my red burritos and regular cokes thank you.
Sometimes I worry I will end up with a some sort of skin disease which renders me unable to wear clothes, something requiring me to be naked more than 90 minutes a week.
"You could always wear a toga," Gioconda suggested. She's right, and toga's are slimming.
When I was a kid I used to have dreams of showing up at school naked. Last nights dream must have been the adult equivalent to my childhood nude school dreams. Clearly it has something to do with feelings of vulnerability as I really don't like to be without clothes so I am relatively confident it has nothing to do with an unexplored perversion.
Unfortunately at this juncture in my life all my perversions have already been explored.
I prefer to be fully clothed, in fact I make an concerted effort to spend as little time possible without clothes. I have it down to about 13 minutes a day, which is the approximate time it takes me to shower each morning. I used to take a shower at night, but found it was too much time for me to be naked, so unless I am exceptionally dirty I will forgo the bedtime shower.
I think I was more tolerant of my own nudity as a teen and young adult, but around 35 I began to consider showering with my underwear on in order to cut down on the hours per week I spent fully naked.
Its not about body issues, I have the opposite of anorexia. A few years back I went to a friend's wedding in Kaui. It wasn't until I saw the photographs- me with my white belly hanging ever so slightly over my shorts and cut off shirt- me with back fat under my sports bras hoisting up yet another Miller Genuine Draft beer- me with three chins- that I realized I was fat.
"Why didn't you tell me I was obese," I asked my friend Ann.
She shrugged, " We were all having such a good time I didn't want to bring it up."
Although I did loose a few pound after that trip I remain a little tubby, but I don't really care. I have a friend who works out every single day, watches everything she eats and rarely drinks beer. Although she looks good, she doesn't look good enough to me to go to such lengths- cost benefit analysis- I'll stick with my red burritos and regular cokes thank you.
Sometimes I worry I will end up with a some sort of skin disease which renders me unable to wear clothes, something requiring me to be naked more than 90 minutes a week.
"You could always wear a toga," Gioconda suggested. She's right, and toga's are slimming.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Just The Facts Please
I don't really have any childhood memories, and the memories I do have are not that great.
This isn't any sort of indictment against my parents, I wasn't abused or neglected. There were no alcoholic rages, I was never left in a hot vehicle with the windows slit, on the first day of school I always had new shoes and a fresh Peechee.
Sure I have recollection of my Grandpa taking walks with me to the beach, and there was that time my Grandma threw that snapping turtle in the ditch, but really other than a few isolated situations its pretty much a blank slate.
Gioconda has vivid recollections of almost every significant and non significant event in her life for the last 43 years.
She remembers the color and the style of the dress she wore when she "graduated" from pre school. Due to her ability to recall events of 38 years ago in living color she simply can't accept I don't share this ability.
Today we went to the Huntington Gardens.
"Have you been here before?" she asked.
Although I vaguely recall seeing the Pinkie and Blue Boy paintings, I may have dreamt it, or I may have seen recreations, I have no idea.
If I don't remember something, which is about 99% of the time, I will answer the same way in order to avoid further questioning on the subject.
"I'm unsure, I have a vague recollection of being here (doing that- seeing that). I don't know how old I was, who I was with, what I was wearing and/or if I had anything to eat and/or drink while I may or may have not been there."
I know it is a compound answer to a relatively simple question, yet I've found this to be a real time saver.
I'm actually used to it.
When I tell my mother something I frequently preface it with " I am now going to tell you everything I know about this situation." However, it doesn't dissuade from making a further inquiry.
Example:
JODY: I was late to court today because someone parked their car in front of our driveway. I had to have it towed.
MY MOTHER: Who did that?
JODY: I don't know.
MY MOTHER: Was it a neighbor? Or maybe a friend of a visiting a neighbor.
JODY: Couldn't tell you.
MY MOTHER: Maybe they didn't know it was a driveway, or they got confused somehow.
JODY: Not sure.
MY MOTHER: Why would they park in your driveway?
JODY: I'm sure it was a conspiracy to keep me from getting to court on time to throw me off my game and give my opponent the advantage.
MY MOTHER: Really? You think someone would go to that trouble? Who do you think would do that?
You can see where this is going. Its endless.
I'm a strictly concise facts person.
Q: "Have you been to Berlin?"
A: "Yes"
All I need to know. I don't need dates or the name of the hotel you stayed at, I don't need to know what you ate or if your flight was delayed.
I know it might sound abrupt, but all the information is just going into the sieve in my head and get lost along with who I sat next to in second grade.
This isn't any sort of indictment against my parents, I wasn't abused or neglected. There were no alcoholic rages, I was never left in a hot vehicle with the windows slit, on the first day of school I always had new shoes and a fresh Peechee.
Sure I have recollection of my Grandpa taking walks with me to the beach, and there was that time my Grandma threw that snapping turtle in the ditch, but really other than a few isolated situations its pretty much a blank slate.
Gioconda has vivid recollections of almost every significant and non significant event in her life for the last 43 years.
She remembers the color and the style of the dress she wore when she "graduated" from pre school. Due to her ability to recall events of 38 years ago in living color she simply can't accept I don't share this ability.
Today we went to the Huntington Gardens.
"Have you been here before?" she asked.
Although I vaguely recall seeing the Pinkie and Blue Boy paintings, I may have dreamt it, or I may have seen recreations, I have no idea.
If I don't remember something, which is about 99% of the time, I will answer the same way in order to avoid further questioning on the subject.
"I'm unsure, I have a vague recollection of being here (doing that- seeing that). I don't know how old I was, who I was with, what I was wearing and/or if I had anything to eat and/or drink while I may or may have not been there."
I know it is a compound answer to a relatively simple question, yet I've found this to be a real time saver.
I'm actually used to it.
When I tell my mother something I frequently preface it with " I am now going to tell you everything I know about this situation." However, it doesn't dissuade from making a further inquiry.
Example:
JODY: I was late to court today because someone parked their car in front of our driveway. I had to have it towed.
MY MOTHER: Who did that?
JODY: I don't know.
MY MOTHER: Was it a neighbor? Or maybe a friend of a visiting a neighbor.
JODY: Couldn't tell you.
MY MOTHER: Maybe they didn't know it was a driveway, or they got confused somehow.
JODY: Not sure.
MY MOTHER: Why would they park in your driveway?
JODY: I'm sure it was a conspiracy to keep me from getting to court on time to throw me off my game and give my opponent the advantage.
MY MOTHER: Really? You think someone would go to that trouble? Who do you think would do that?
You can see where this is going. Its endless.
I'm a strictly concise facts person.
Q: "Have you been to Berlin?"
A: "Yes"
All I need to know. I don't need dates or the name of the hotel you stayed at, I don't need to know what you ate or if your flight was delayed.
I know it might sound abrupt, but all the information is just going into the sieve in my head and get lost along with who I sat next to in second grade.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
See But Don't Say
There has been a lot going on here at 2107 Santa Rosa, but I can't write about any of the more interesting things...
The dogs have been enjoying a new dog food called "Chef Michael", we were able to fix the air conditioner from leaking water on the basement floor, the refridge will now beep randomly and repeatedly , which typically occurs in the early morning hours....these are the safe topics I am allowed to blog about.
"You need to blog about your own life," Gioconda says.
This leads me to ponder - what exactly is my life? Apparently, my life isn't inclusive of the happens here at the home I am living, paying 1/2 of the mortgage and the water bill...my life consists of the more mundane...baby poop, speculation as to what happened the black and white cat to cause on puncture wound on her left leg- which I successfully have treated with antibiotic ointment, trying to figure out what is causing the mold smell in the towels....so this is my "life".
The fundamental problem is that the "life" I "own" is it is felony boring. I get to experience a lot of crazy shit- I just can't talk (or write) about it.
"Is that a dead raccoon on his head or did he cut his hair that way," I said on Monday. There is more to this story...unfortunately here in the world of see but don't say I am forbidden from continuing.
Last week I made a list of all the terrible things that have happened to Gioconda over the last three years.
" Why would you even do that," she said when I asked her if she wanted to see it.
"I was thinking I could use it for my memoir," I replied.
"For YOUR memoir?," she asked.
Granted the list of events did not happen to me directly; however, how am I ever going to be Oprah's book selection with stories about how I tricked the cat into taking a pill.
Things go down here at 2107 which would make a killer reality show- sure I am in the periphery, yet I should still be able to write about SOMETHING.
I have suggested a formula in which I have authorization to write about one out of every five situations in which I am technically not a participant. Last week I blogged about an interaction I had with one of her friends.
"I guess this is fine if you don't mind that she will end up hating you and this will completely end your relationship with her," she said after she read it and right before I deleted it.
In truth, I am tethered to about 10 people in my orbit- so to have her hate me and keep my blog entry was a fair trade.
"I thought it was funny," I replied. She just shook her head.
"You will need up damaging your relationships for your blog," she said.
I'm a person who is not that connected to sound, she is just going to have to give me something more compelling.
The dogs have been enjoying a new dog food called "Chef Michael", we were able to fix the air conditioner from leaking water on the basement floor, the refridge will now beep randomly and repeatedly , which typically occurs in the early morning hours....these are the safe topics I am allowed to blog about.
"You need to blog about your own life," Gioconda says.
This leads me to ponder - what exactly is my life? Apparently, my life isn't inclusive of the happens here at the home I am living, paying 1/2 of the mortgage and the water bill...my life consists of the more mundane...baby poop, speculation as to what happened the black and white cat to cause on puncture wound on her left leg- which I successfully have treated with antibiotic ointment, trying to figure out what is causing the mold smell in the towels....so this is my "life".
The fundamental problem is that the "life" I "own" is it is felony boring. I get to experience a lot of crazy shit- I just can't talk (or write) about it.
"Is that a dead raccoon on his head or did he cut his hair that way," I said on Monday. There is more to this story...unfortunately here in the world of see but don't say I am forbidden from continuing.
Last week I made a list of all the terrible things that have happened to Gioconda over the last three years.
" Why would you even do that," she said when I asked her if she wanted to see it.
"I was thinking I could use it for my memoir," I replied.
"For YOUR memoir?," she asked.
Granted the list of events did not happen to me directly; however, how am I ever going to be Oprah's book selection with stories about how I tricked the cat into taking a pill.
Things go down here at 2107 which would make a killer reality show- sure I am in the periphery, yet I should still be able to write about SOMETHING.
I have suggested a formula in which I have authorization to write about one out of every five situations in which I am technically not a participant. Last week I blogged about an interaction I had with one of her friends.
"I guess this is fine if you don't mind that she will end up hating you and this will completely end your relationship with her," she said after she read it and right before I deleted it.
In truth, I am tethered to about 10 people in my orbit- so to have her hate me and keep my blog entry was a fair trade.
"I thought it was funny," I replied. She just shook her head.
"You will need up damaging your relationships for your blog," she said.
I'm a person who is not that connected to sound, she is just going to have to give me something more compelling.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Zombie Babies
There is only about 6 weeks before Halloween luckily the girls already have two costumes lined up...so far.
Although I never intended to be that person apparently I am. Whatever. I'm an old mother.
Halloween does something to Gioconda. She starts talking about going to horror movies, she mentioned in passing dressing the girls as Leather Face from the Texas Chain Saw Massacre movies, and she bought a set of Zombie Babies.
To say the Zombie Babies are unsettling is an understatement. Even the most hardened of our friends has described the Zombie Babies as disturbing. Eyeless, with little baby pointed teeth, the Zombie Babies sit cross legged, and appear to be almost the exact size of our two non zombie babies.
The Zombie Babies currently reside in the living room. I don't go there alone anymore.
"I decided I'll be doing a photo series with the Zombie Babies," she said on Tuesday.
And then she showed me the list of the how she was going to pose the Zombie Babies.
"I'm just afraid you may end up burning in hell as a result of this," I said in an attempt to dissuade her.
She doesn't care. It's not like it is anything she can control. Something takes ahold of her during this time of year, something dark and menacing.
"I would really like to go see that 3-d movie Valentine, Bloody Valentine," she said last week.
I just smiled and nodded. This will be over soon enough, November 3rd - 4th at the latest.
Although I never intended to be that person apparently I am. Whatever. I'm an old mother.
Halloween does something to Gioconda. She starts talking about going to horror movies, she mentioned in passing dressing the girls as Leather Face from the Texas Chain Saw Massacre movies, and she bought a set of Zombie Babies.
To say the Zombie Babies are unsettling is an understatement. Even the most hardened of our friends has described the Zombie Babies as disturbing. Eyeless, with little baby pointed teeth, the Zombie Babies sit cross legged, and appear to be almost the exact size of our two non zombie babies.
The Zombie Babies currently reside in the living room. I don't go there alone anymore.
"I decided I'll be doing a photo series with the Zombie Babies," she said on Tuesday.
And then she showed me the list of the how she was going to pose the Zombie Babies.
"I'm just afraid you may end up burning in hell as a result of this," I said in an attempt to dissuade her.
She doesn't care. It's not like it is anything she can control. Something takes ahold of her during this time of year, something dark and menacing.
"I would really like to go see that 3-d movie Valentine, Bloody Valentine," she said last week.
I just smiled and nodded. This will be over soon enough, November 3rd - 4th at the latest.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
That time of year...again
Once again it is soccer season. Yeah.
Although I remain unclear how we were able to endure the last 5 months without watching one team kick the ball and then the other team try to take the ball, and then kick the ball for an hour and a half we now have the sweet relief of once again being spectators to this event- over and over and over....
We went to Dylan's game last night. He plays in the oldest age league in AYSO 16-19. I will say after watching almost every level of soccer, it really doesn't change a great deal. In fact it has occurred to me that all levels could play together in a hybrid of ages. Sure the taller players may have an advantage, but if they spread the taller players around the teams we could watch Dylan kick the ball with Aidan and then it two or three years watch Aidan play with the girls.
Admittedly I am no soccer fan, I have said before I find the whole sport mind boggling boring.
In spite of this I found myself at Muir central field.
"I hope it isn't my turn to bring snack (please note for whatever reason these AYSO people call it snack- since a person brings more than one it is SNACKS -plural)," Giconda said.
Really? The 16-19 year old get a snack after the game?
Everyone gets one fruit roll a box drink and a condom.
Afterward I said the same things I always say, "I have no memory prior to this game. I can't believe people endure this."
"Just wait until the girls start to play. You have no idea what it is like to watch 5 year olds play," Gioconda replied.
My girls will definately play soccer. Not for the sport, but for what playing sports, any sport, does for the self esteem of girls.
Although I didn't say it, I really can't wait.
In the last week Camille has learned to take Sadie's pacifier out of her mouth and put it in her own mouth. I could watch it for hours...
Although I remain unclear how we were able to endure the last 5 months without watching one team kick the ball and then the other team try to take the ball, and then kick the ball for an hour and a half we now have the sweet relief of once again being spectators to this event- over and over and over....
We went to Dylan's game last night. He plays in the oldest age league in AYSO 16-19. I will say after watching almost every level of soccer, it really doesn't change a great deal. In fact it has occurred to me that all levels could play together in a hybrid of ages. Sure the taller players may have an advantage, but if they spread the taller players around the teams we could watch Dylan kick the ball with Aidan and then it two or three years watch Aidan play with the girls.
Admittedly I am no soccer fan, I have said before I find the whole sport mind boggling boring.
In spite of this I found myself at Muir central field.
"I hope it isn't my turn to bring snack (please note for whatever reason these AYSO people call it snack- since a person brings more than one it is SNACKS -plural)," Giconda said.
Really? The 16-19 year old get a snack after the game?
Everyone gets one fruit roll a box drink and a condom.
Afterward I said the same things I always say, "I have no memory prior to this game. I can't believe people endure this."
"Just wait until the girls start to play. You have no idea what it is like to watch 5 year olds play," Gioconda replied.
My girls will definately play soccer. Not for the sport, but for what playing sports, any sport, does for the self esteem of girls.
Although I didn't say it, I really can't wait.
In the last week Camille has learned to take Sadie's pacifier out of her mouth and put it in her own mouth. I could watch it for hours...
Thursday, September 10, 2009
365 million
Two weeks ago the lotto mega millions was up to 365 million.
I bought 20 tickets and began spending plans. My biggest dilemma, how much would I have to give to family members. After thinking it through I concluded I would give my parents each a million, and my sister half a million, which still leaves me with about 200 million after taxes, give or take.
And then there is Gioconda's family, in all honesty I have no real close friends I would feel compelled to gift anything, but a ton of first cousins, aunts, nephews...and the list keep growing. It was then I decided I would always pick up the check when I ate out with these people, and this seemed adequate. Its a slippery slope, giving away money, so in the end I pretty much decided, I wouldn't.
With this resolved, I allowed myself to focus on what I really wanted to think about, all the stuff I would buy.
I asked my mother what she would do with all that money.
"Well, I would give you and your sister 10 million, and then a million to my sisters and brothers, and Tony ( the guys who does her nails) I would give him a million, of course my Grand children, I would give them all 5 million and then 100 thousand to my nieces and nephews, and I would like to give all the employees of the school district $2,000.00 as a bonus....," and she kept going.
The lady who cleans her house, the sorority sisters she still sees, the college she graduated from, a lady who lives in her truck at the park she walks...
According to my calculations my mother's plan for the 365 million (after everything was given away) was about 65 million.
"That's fine, really its more than I could possibly need," she said.
My mother had planed to give away 300 million of the 365, I had planned on giving away about 2.5 million of the 365. My mother planned on giving Tony the nail guy the same amount of money I planned on giving her and my father. She was going to give the dude that polishes her finger nails the same amount I was going to give to the person who gave me birth.
Really?
In the end, neither one of us had to make those difficult decisions. For her how much to give to the lady that cuts her hair, for me whether to buy my own Cessna jet, or just rent out on an as needed basis.
One thing for sure, we would have both always bought dinner.
I bought 20 tickets and began spending plans. My biggest dilemma, how much would I have to give to family members. After thinking it through I concluded I would give my parents each a million, and my sister half a million, which still leaves me with about 200 million after taxes, give or take.
And then there is Gioconda's family, in all honesty I have no real close friends I would feel compelled to gift anything, but a ton of first cousins, aunts, nephews...and the list keep growing. It was then I decided I would always pick up the check when I ate out with these people, and this seemed adequate. Its a slippery slope, giving away money, so in the end I pretty much decided, I wouldn't.
With this resolved, I allowed myself to focus on what I really wanted to think about, all the stuff I would buy.
I asked my mother what she would do with all that money.
"Well, I would give you and your sister 10 million, and then a million to my sisters and brothers, and Tony ( the guys who does her nails) I would give him a million, of course my Grand children, I would give them all 5 million and then 100 thousand to my nieces and nephews, and I would like to give all the employees of the school district $2,000.00 as a bonus....," and she kept going.
The lady who cleans her house, the sorority sisters she still sees, the college she graduated from, a lady who lives in her truck at the park she walks...
According to my calculations my mother's plan for the 365 million (after everything was given away) was about 65 million.
"That's fine, really its more than I could possibly need," she said.
My mother had planed to give away 300 million of the 365, I had planned on giving away about 2.5 million of the 365. My mother planned on giving Tony the nail guy the same amount of money I planned on giving her and my father. She was going to give the dude that polishes her finger nails the same amount I was going to give to the person who gave me birth.
Really?
In the end, neither one of us had to make those difficult decisions. For her how much to give to the lady that cuts her hair, for me whether to buy my own Cessna jet, or just rent out on an as needed basis.
One thing for sure, we would have both always bought dinner.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
