Updates

In response to the comments & emails left over the past three months, I offer these updates:
- I'm still short.
- I'm still out of shape, though I did purchase an elliptical machine and have begun to use it. I'm still working up to a respectable amount of time per workout, but I'll get there. No reason to throw myself into full cardiac arrest in the first few weeks, right?
- Christmas was fine, but I've made a point to not spend a lot of time with the elder generation of the family since then. I think I'm waiting to see if the layer of teeth I ground away is going to regenerate. I'll post about my ... uh ... what's the word? ... disconnect from the holiday later.
- work is busier than a two-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs with no sign of letting up. I'm getting my "define my own position" ass totally kicked. I still adore the people I work with. I didn't think this many kind, intelligent and funny people would be gathered in such a small place.
- Sparkycus and I are going to WA state next month to see my older sister for Easter. I'm totally stoked!
- Living is too expensive! I'm considering finding a way to downsize. I want to shout, "I'm sorry ... I was wrong ... I DON'T need a big house!" to the heavens. Man, lesson learned.
- I'm paying much closer attention to my finances. Holy shit, do I spend a lot of money on nothing. (do caramel lattes really count as "nothing"?)
- My dear friend Vicky from Florida is sending me a plane ticket to visit her in September (for my birthday.) The last time I was there, I discovered a place to totally and completely be myself in all of my chunky white-girl glory. I drank Cuban coffee and burned my bod on the beach. I salsa'd with complete strangers and gaped at Saul and Maury from Jersey.I played pool with Equadorians and picked up some great Venezualan recipes. Since each winter seems to get longer and longer, I am inclined to think that Ft Lauderdale/Miami is where I'd consider heading once Sparkycus is setting off into his own wild blue yonder. I can't go back to the desert ... that would probaby kill me. Every time I fly into Vegas to visit "back home," I get physically ill looking out the window. All of that brown makes me want to stick a cactus needle in my eye.
- My "Nanny" died in January. My mother's mother, she fought and beat lung cancer for the last two years. When I questioned my mother's statement of "Nanny didn't want anyone to come out" (when all three of us girls live spread out all over the US and they're in the Vegas area), she exploded. I am greatly shamed to say I responded in horrid fashion and she hung up. (which was probaby a good thing ... things escalate quickly between us) She then called my older sister to tell her to tell me to not call her. It's been more than a month and I don't even know if the heart attack my grandfather suffered three days after my grandmother's passing still has him confined to the hospital. (Mom hasn't updated either of my sisters.) I don't understand my relationship with my mother. She is the only person I am incapable of dealing with in a sane manner. The relationship is toxic and I don't know how to fix it. I don't think I can. Sometimes I think I'm too weary to try.
- GIRLS are now calling the house for Sparkycus. Too weird! I hope I'm being cool about it, but constantly worry that I'll not see signs of ... I don't know what. Lord help us all.

Y'all be well. Or at least make overt gestures in that direction until your psyche picks up on the idea and can run with it.

Turns Out I Just Needed to be Inspired

There are two blogs I read regularly; RomaniHeart and Dirty Floors & Filthy Jokes.

Today, reading DF&FJ inspired me. I haven't posted since December. Over three months of self-censorship have me doing exactly the opposite of what I intended to do when I set out to blog, which was to feed my soul by "letting it all hang out."

I don't want to go into any details, but we'll just settle on the phrase "there are decisions to be made." I recognize an issue and am hiding from the solution. No one's being abused, don't get yer chonies in a wad. No one's life is at stake. Stuff just isn't where it ought to be.

Onward ...

So DF&FJ (whose "handle" is Closet Metro, by the way ... 'makes me laugh) blogged about several things. One was visiting a part of his city that he'd never been to. This is something I always think I'm going to do, then look around my little rut and somehow decide I'm safe there. There are some really great pics over on his site; not necesarrily for the technical aspects one might associate with exceptional photography, but that's not what I go for. I like photos that give you a feeling for the moment.

Anyway, there is also a photo of his dog, Jack, doing a full-frontal assault on a jar of peanut butter. Something about that shot speaks to me. I haven't figured it out yet ... maybe it's the idea of letting go and letting the dog make a mess and even run the risk of cleaning up puppy yark later; all because the dog really, really likes it.

Most of all, it was his thoughts on taking his young daughter out to dinner with a group of his friends. I don't know if y'all know this or not, but when Sparkycus was a wee lad, I was a single Mom. He has been an integral part of my social life for over a decade. I oft wondered what "they" would think about my taking him out to dinner with friends more often than not. This thought was always followed up with, "who cares?"

Sparkycus' company has gotten better and better with each year. He's thirteen now - and while prone to knowing just about everything and being pretty studious about being a snot from time to time, he's also really great company. I had a get-together with some work friends here at the house. His entry into the discussion was welcome, timely and usually H-I-larious. The kid is funny and smart (something to be said for this age, let me tell you; most of the time they're complete dumb-asses ... but that's another entry.) The pride I feel at having a child who is comfortable expressing himself in a group of adults is huge.

Of all of the regrets I carry with me, I know I will not look back and regret having the boy child with me as much as possible while he's still interested. While I look forward to one day having a life of my own (albeit doing it "backwards" in the timeline of life) I steel myself for the day when Sparkycus is not around every day. He's all I've ever known in my adult life. In a way, we've grown up together. It may sound trite, but I understand the idea of having been given a precious gift. Mine is my son.

So continue to take your daughter out, Closet Metro ... you'll never regret it.