Already...

It is Wednesday morning, just after 10 am and already I have done the following things:

** returned and made 4 phone calls

** took the injured scion to its appointment with the body shop

** got a chai

** located and purchased the amazing chaco flip flops for my mother

** made a phone call to the university to figure out why I am having a hard time registering for Fall classes

** made breakfast

Nice.

Happy Un-Birthday

Today is the day before The Boy's birthday. To start off the celebration, we were planning a trip to a waterfall and a hike in the suddenly sunny and 70 degree weather.

Instead, we ended up in the ER for 3 hours.

I have a cervical strain. The Boy has a big bump on his forehead.

Hope we have better luck tomorrow.

Friday Dump Day

Another installment of Friday Dump Day! good golly holly!

Things to Dump:

*No food in my fridge or cabinets ... need to go grocery shopping

*And I am hungry

*Tired. Didn't sleep last night. Very tired.

*Stupid people

*Rain. It was 90 degrees here! And now it's 50 and raining! What the hay!!??

That's about it.

Peace out.

Ugh.

It is Wednesday - a day I reserve for freelance projects, cleaning up around the house, and running errands.

But the Boy came home sick yesterday, and even though I kept all the windows open overnight (to kill invading germ bugs) I still woke up in the early morning with a shaky stomach. So irritating.

It might turn into a sleeping and drinking lots of fluids day.

Nearly-Summer Soundtrack

A little Duffy...

Some Bitter Sweet...

Add Gnarls, and you have a perfect mix.

A Conversation

So, I work with this uber-sweet girl. She's smart, talented, funny, beautiful....
This is the conversation we have today, wherein she is telling me how different her parents are - like, polar opposites (and no longer together).

Her: My mom is this, straight-laced, professional, accountant.

Me: What does your dad do?

Her: (covering the side of her face to shield her answer from prying eyes) He was a pimp.

Me: (the sound of uncontrollable laughter, as I have hit the floor and am trying not to pee my pants)

Are you serious?

Her: Yeah, think of like, the stereotypical pimp and that's my dad.

Me: Um..purple hat, cadillac?

Her: (nodding her head) yep....and a big, huge black man.

Oh my goodness. I love it.

In Response...

This post is written to a certain someone - you know who you are. If this is not you, sorry - please hang in there.

I admit to being "in love" many times. But understanding the nature of love and being capable of experiencing (receiving and giving) real, mountain-moving love, has taken many years to glimpse just the edge of. I mean this toward all kinds of persons - from family that I've loved instantly and selfishly, to the Divine, to friends, to romantic relationships.

The first time I liked a boy, my friend and I rode our bikes past his house more than a dozen times a day just to see if he was home. We sang duets as we rode down his street. Cause we were just that dorky. And we wanted to show off our skills. Then, we would lay around in one of our bedrooms and listen to "I Swear" (the country version) and wish desperately that the phone would ring. This boy was never my boyfriend, but we did dance together at a middle school dance and I thought I was going to POOP MYSELF, it was so exciting. And then we kind of never talked again and I thought I might die it was so excruciatingly sad.

The first time a boy liked me - I am certain I was too young for such a thing. We raced each other at Wednesday night church events - again, I was intent upon showing my skills (fast running and smooth corner turning), but I didn't really care about the boy. He called my house one night and my dad (gasp) answered the phone and HUNG UP ON HIM after saying something, like, "No - she is too young to talk on the phone!"

I had a *big crush* in high school on this star basketball player. But he had a very steady girlfriend. One summer they broke up and he started inviting me to watch movies at his house. And then he kissed me. And then, like the next day, he got back together with his ex. Dickhole. And I thought I might die.

This kid that lived down the street from us had a *big crush* on me in high school. He was a country singer and drove a big truck and had a wiener dog named Norman. He went to church all day on Sunday. He was a little too intense for me.

During my last year of high school, I started hanging out with this guy who was much older than me. He worked at a coffee shop and wrote poetry and was all angst-ridden. Lots of girls wanted to be his girlfriend. And we were kind of a thing. And I really, really liked him. He smoked cigars and sang in a band and being with him was very dramatic and angst-ridden, and when I thought he was getting bored of me, or when he didn't return my phone calls, I spent lots of nights sobbing in my bedroom. But I was going to college and he was going - no where. So I left and it wasn't that bad, actually. I had lots of college-ing to do. But somewhere between us "hanging out" and me being at school for a few weeks - he decided he actually loved me, or something. And there was this awful, dramatic, back and forth thing for weeks until it was finally just over. And again, I thought I might die because I was just so sad.

And then I dated this college guy who did weird things like played video games all day long and attended class in his pajamas, and danced like a monkey on crack at parties. We broke up in a Toys'R'Us parking lot because I was in love with his best friend. And, plus, it was more like some weird freak show to see the two of us dating - it was mostly for the amusement of everyone around us, not because we actually had a thing for each other.

And then I started dating his best friend. And I knew - immediately - that he was it for me. But things were hard for us, and eventually, we broke up too, lots of times, actually. And it was very, very difficult. When we broke up the last time - I moved across the state. We would talk on the phone every once in a while and it was so gut-wrenching, I could feel my heart breaking apart. I spent hours crying in the garage because I thought no one could hear me there. And one night, my mom found my crying in bed. I remember talking to her for a long time, but all I can remember saying was, "I didn't think it would hurt this much."

But then I realized that my life - who I was - was not about him. And my life could not stop because of him. And so I moved on. Slowly at first...with lots of backsliding and moping around. But then, one day, I realized that it didn't hurt as much. And it kept hurting a little less and a little less. And you know what? Amazing things happened in my life. I had alot of interesting experiences - I learned alot about who I was - I made changes that were important. I made decisions for me, not for anyone else. I grew up. I dated other people.

And then, I fell back in love with him. In our own way, in our own time, we found each other again. And it was lovely. And it was the right time.

My point is that this might be just the first of many painful disentanglements you will experience. And there is nothing in the world that can make it better except for time. And remembering that there is a whole world in front of you and every puzzle piece works its way into place in time. Maybe a long time. Don't let your experiences disempower you. Let them make you stronger, more interesting, more uniquely you. When it's time to write the end of the chapter - don't be afraid to do it. Because another chapter is just around the corner.

And - I am sorry about your spider bite.

You are in my heart.
*image from here

Friday Dump Day

Friday is Dump Day. A weekly occurrence where I call my younger sister, LaLa, and ask her what she has to dump.
It started out, not so much as a bad attitude outlet - but because declaring this holiday seemed to ensure a weekly phone conversation.

LaLa has suggested we dump via blog on Fridays since she is now a blogger. I am agreeing to this - but DON'T THINK IT GETS YOU OUT OF A WEEKLY PHONE CONVO.

Things to dump:

1. Heat. Overnight, it went from low 60 degree temps to the 90+ weather we'll have this afternoon. And in the hundreds over the weekend. I do not do well in really warm temperatures. I physically and emotionally melt down.

2. Stupid people, arrogant people, pretentious people, Coach-carriers, fearful people, petty people, peroxide blondes, pill poppers, and small furry dogs.

3. Insecurity.

4. Having to wait for 2 weeks for the season finale of Lost.

5. People who keep asking me if I'm in high school. Hello! Approaching 30!!

6. Food. Blach. I am bored of all the food choices right now. I just want olives, vitamin water, and something with coconut.

7. Choices. Can someone else please just take over the part of my daily existence where choices must be made?

8. Dot's incessant whining for food.

9. My nasty looking fingernails and toenails. Pedi-mani - please!

THINGS I LOVE...And don't want to dump

1. The Posh bob

2. Can You Duet

3. SJP on the cover of Vogue

4. Caribbean islands

There you have it. Now to take care of those toenails....

Rough Day

I am having a rough day.
For no good reason.

I just feel bummed out and a little sad and it is gray and cloudy outside and a little on the chilly side. And I just wish it wasn't.

I need an upper.

Help.

Pray I Don't Fall Off ....

This past Monday (May 5th - Cinco de Mayo) was an anniversary of sorts. Nine years ago, Peter and I started dating.

As a gift, he got me a LONGBOARD. And I have been practicing.

And I am pretty good.

But I don't have:

a) a helmet

b) medical insurance

So keep your fingers crossed.

Signs

Last week I had a dream about a note one of my professors wrote me my senior year of college - right before graduation. In my dream, I read the note and was confused by it - maybe even a little offended - and I put it in a box, underneath many other papers.

The weird thing is - one of my professors really did write me a note the week before graduation that I really didn't understand and I read it once, fast - and put it away. I knew exactly where it was, so I went to the box and pulled it out from in between piles of old birthday cards and old day planners.

The letter starts off with this -

Dear Jen,
You are almost perfect but what I admire the most about you is when you screw up.

The rest of the letter talks about not having to be perfect. About allowing myself to be human. It's embarrassing that I can't say I remember any specific event that would have inspired the writing of this letter - so....it must have been just me.

Later that SAME DAY....

My life coach sends me an e-mail...just checking in on how I'm doing and what I'm feeling. And she says she saw a tee shirt that she should have bought me. It said, "Live imperfectly."

Ha ha.

Apparently, the universe is intent upon making sure I get the message.