Hair Tangles and Constellations

Why do I feel so freaking old all of a sudden?


It -might- be the wheelchair...

The other day, I was poking around on Facebook, and I saw that one of my friends "became a fan" of "Life in San Francisco." Aww, I do really miss San Francisco a lot. I don't want to be freezing all the time or have to deal with the depression that sets in after a while without a certain amount of sunshine, but I did TRULY love living there. I could see the Golden Gate from my doorstep each morning. My living room had a view of the entire city to the East, and when the sun set, it glowed gold like something holy. I loved driving through the winding, wooded roads of the Presidio every late afternoon to pick Steve up from work, the mist weaving through the trees like beautiful ghosts. I miss eating with my friends at various tiny, wonderful, warm restaurants in the Richmond and in the Mission. Descending the long, narrow stairs at China Beach. I smiled, clicked, and became a fan, myself.

Yesterday, my uncle commented on this with one word. "Why?!!" My uncle lives in Texas, with the rest of most of my family.

I sent him a message. "I lived in SF for only two years, and it somehow still ended up feeling more like home than a lot of places I've been. Have you ever been?"

He commented on my page. "Dreary weather and TOO LIBERAL!"

All right, people, I just complained, myself, about how the gloom and chill eventually wore me down a bit. But somehow seeing it typed out like that by my uncle kind of pissed me off. Maybe it was the proximity to the words "TOO LIBERAL" as though that were some kind of condemnation, I don't know. I think everyone has the right to their own opinions about life, but no matter how old I get, I am always blown away by the idea (on either side) that an entire place must be anathematized because there are some people there with different ideas from your own. What, does my uncle think that if he walks down the street, some gay is going to rub off on him? He might suddenly care too much about the plight of the homeless?

I'm being fairly over-the-top. I know there are some aspects of living in an uber-conservative society that I definitely wouldn't enjoy, and I know how my entire family loves to complain about the taxes of places like Boston (though as I understand, none have lived there)... but I mean, he felt strongly enough to comment on my opinion, as though I were insane.

What I want to know is, if my family didn't want me to grow up leaning liberal, why did they take us young, impressionable children every single week to listen to the compassionate teachings of Christ? Hmm?

Lana: Did you hear that Wii-Man is going to be in his school production? His class has two musical numbers.

Nigel: Really?

Lana: Yeah, in one, he's going to be Charlie Brown--

Nigel: Aw, cute.

Lana: And in the other one, the Seussical part, he's going to be a tree.

Nigel: That's cool. Hopefully he'll be able to branch out from there.

Lana: Leave my baby alone!

Nigel: You don't have to bark at me.

Silence.

Lana: What, are you rooting around for another one?

Silence.

Nigel: Forget it. I'm stumped.


**************************************************************

Yes. For real. This is what we do.


Wii-Man's show was awesome and adorable. As soon as I get my battery working, I will post video, because seriously. CUTE OVARLODE.

Lots has happened, of course, and I've been journal negligent. But hello, and I hope you're well. I will start back-reading now.

Also, whoops! I've gone blonde.

I just don't think Gladiator Sandals look remotely good on anyone. Not even Gladiators. Well, maybe. But not anyone 'round here.

It's been a long time since life was so consistently fun. My life follows a fairy predictable schedule these days, and unless we count things like work and school, that has not been the case in several years.

Most mornings begin with Nigel waking up just before dawn and bringing up two mugs of hot tea. (My mug is the Cookie Monster travesty complete with the words "Me Like To Dunk" on it.) He and I sit on the balcony while the sun comes up, listening to morning birds and making the occasional soft comment about the day's plans. Then he goes to work, and I get WiiMan up to start preparing for school. (If WiiMan has no school, I admit that I sometimes drift back to sleep for an hour or two. Seven o'clock is just too early for me sometimes.) It is something this ridiculously simple that makes getting up every day feel pleasant, and that's coming from someone who would usually rather pretend that MORNING is a fictitious beast. I am terrible at waking up before my body wishes to rouse, which is usually after ten thirty, no matter what time I fall asleep the night before.

Most days involve seeing Nigel for lunch, taking the whole fam to swim at the YMCA in the evening before dinner, a tv show or word game of some sort, and some low-key social event with various friends who come over or meet up with us somewhere. Simple, and glorious. I've said, wryly, for a long time that I'd love to be bored one of these days. This is what I meant; of course it's not boring, but life is way less full of ugly surprises these days. Blue skies instead of tornadoes. One of these days I'll do less anxious sky-watching and be able to just enjoy the weather.

Yesterday at lunch, N and I took WiiMan to Souplantation and loaded up on the veggies. While moving through the cafeteria-style line, WiiMan got a little overzealous moving his tray and dropped the whole thing to the floor with a spectacular crash of broccoli, spinach, carrot shreds, and plastic plate. Behind us a little way was a group of teenagers, wannabe punk kids with skateboards, and one of them started hooting at WiiMan and saying things like "I think you dropped something" in a taunting manner. This made my already-embarrassed kid begin to squinch up his eyes and cry, and some Mama Bear instinct totally took over in me. I took WiiMan's hand and led him around to the front of the restaurant to start over in the line, and as I passed the kids who were still laughing, I (admission: retardedly) managed to inform a couple of them out of my kid's earshot that I personally wasn't afraid to take care of a few little assholes who wanted to upset a little kid. -- WHAT? I don't even know what I meant by that. Hilarious. I've never been a person to respond to mocking or fight-picking that's aimed at me, but for some reason, once my kid started to cry, I thought I was Chuck Norris or something. -- I knew I was being silly, but I couldn't stop myself. I had to literally grit my teeth to stop myself from flinging one of their own trays to the floor. I guess I had veggie rage or something. The story doesn't really end there, of course, because what self-respecting teenager is going to let that slide? They walked by our table a few times and burped really loudly, completely not knowing who they were dealing with. (Those were seriously weak belches; my own kid has heard me put that to shame.) But you know, whatever. I'm the one who presented myself as some kind of retarded "MESS WITH THE BULL GET THE HORNS" authoridult. I was able to let it go, but Nigel and I had to whisper back and forth to each other all the things we WISHED we could say to those kids. Because we're crazy immature, I guess, and also because the things we'd have said were funny and deadly aimed, but we had just enough grownup in us not to fire. I'm still surprised by my own reaction. I always knew I'd never let anyone physically hurt my kids, but I never realized how silly I could get over seeing OTHER KIDS (granted, older, but still) make my son cry.

At some point later, I mentioned that I was glad my thirteen year old daughter hadn't been there, because I would have embarrassed the crap out of her with my antics. WiiMan said, "I'm glad you didn't embarrass her, because she would have scared me right out of my skin." Not understanding, I pressed him for more info. "Well," says he, with all seven years of his wisdom, "Ashlyn is naturally devious to me. She likes to scare me just to get revenge." And after I got over the mental "!!!!!!" of his "naturally devious," I realized what he meant. Ash's particular brand of sibling cruelty involves graphic descriptions of what Chucky (the doll) MAY OR MAY NOT be doing in WiiMan's room at any given moment.

Oh, man. Kids are great.

So last night we went to the street fair they have a few blocks from my home every Thursday. We ate Greek and Southern food, watched babies and old men dance to a local band murdering playing classic rock and blues songs, sniffed and prodded local produce, held hands, bought me a cheap but gorgeous goal-dress (lots of weight to lose), and just generally felt happy to be alive. Here's to keeping that feeling as long as possible, and I hope you get some of that, too!

I turn my back, and suddenly it's been two months since I posted anything here. Time has been flying; I just can't believe it. When I realized a couple days ago that I hadn't blogged since Nigel and I got together, I had a desire to record some of the fun and happiness I've been living, followed by a knee-jerk, irrational, superstitious fear that blogging would jinx the sweetness life has passed my way recently. However, I hate being superstitious like that, and I'd rather believe that the good things going on are mostly a result of choices, and the dissolution of past relationships had nothing (or VERY little) to do with preservation via written word! If anything, I can think of one relationship I prolonged by writing about it in my LJ, talking myself back into him over and over for months and making the story of us seem good by trying to focus on the good parts. Eh, well. Live, learn. And here I am, "pen in hand."

I finally feel somewhat settled here in Southern California. I have a great group of friends who gather at my home most every Friday for games and jokes and good food. I've realized that I'm never happier than when feeding and entertaining people I love. I'm like a kid; I never want them to leave, never want the playdate to be over. Before one party is over, I'm planning the next. So far we've done Van Halen-tines Day (day after Valentines, involving Eighties Glam Rock outfits), Charlie Sheen Appreciation Night (inside joke following a game night incident), a fire-pit cook-out, a cupcake bake (more to come), and uh... other various potluck/social stuff. We have an Easter brunch, a Pajama Party, a Prom, a Superhero Theme, a Soul Train Party, and some other things coming. More people invite more people, and I've had to be careful not to let the groups get too big. Thirteen to fifteen is the most my house will comfortably fit without feeling like some stupid college throwback, and usually I prefer to keep it to a core six or eight. I've got a little family, and I'm thrilled.

Nigel and I had a rough January, while I swung back and forth on the issue of whether or not I really wanted a boyfriend. (Basically, I didn't. But it turns out, I did want him.) He was patient for the most part, and things are beautiful. We've done Disneyland and Palm Springs and hospital visits and hikes and beach trips and grocery budgeting and pool tournaments and YMCA workouts and American Idol cheer/jeering. We wake up together in the morning, and he brings up hot tea so that we can sit on the balcony and watch the sunrise before he heads to work. He rubs my back without complaint, even though it hurts often and means that he gives more rubs than he gets. He laughs at my jokes. He discusses with me things that we read. Most important of all, he is generally happy and good-natured, and I hadn't realized how much THAT was the missing ingredient in past (otherwise lovely, often) boyfriends. I don't mind cheerleading in the beginning, cajoling, inspiring... but eventually it wears me down, and then I get resentful or just end up joining the depression squad. Thank God for someone who can be happy and positive on his own, for weeks on end. It's been a few months now, and it's still going strong, so that's nice.

WiiMan was being bullied at school. His teachers told me they are struggling with a situation wherein children who succeed academically are ostracized or outright teased/mocked/harassed by the others. When WiiMan's one ally in the class was awarded the title "Student of the Month," four little boys instructed the rest of the children to stop playing with him for the rest of the year and demand his lunch. The teachers actually overheard that one, and they tried to put a stop to it, but apparently this sort of thing happens daily. WiiMan was coming home crying and asking for help. We tried a few different things for months, but in the end, I pulled him from the school and enrolled him in a Montessori Elementary school, where he is THRIVING, mercifully. I didn't want to overreact, and I don't like the idea of plucking all of the "successful" students from a school that is struggling, but in the end, the teacher herself told me that she would never put her kid in the class and that they are all at their collective wit's end trying to figure out how to fix the problem. SO SAD! I'm still wondering what can be done about it, because though I needed to remove my kid and relieve his distress immediately, it's still my community, and that's just not right for any kid. I'm fortunate that, although it's a very tricky juggling act, we can afford to pay for private school; that may not last, and lots of parents can't do it, period.

For the past couple of days, I've been on a crazy baking kick, and I've decided I may hold a small impromptu baked-goods sale in my yard this weekend. (Getting info on the potential lawbreaking of that has been far more difficult than I imagined it would be. I even talked to the Dept of Health, and the lady either didn't have time, didn't understand, or couldn't be bothered to help me. Oh well. Here's hoping for a little extra money and no jail/fines.) Some pictures? Why, certainly.

I hope you guys are all doing well and enjoying lovely spring weather. I've got a pretty beach view, blocks away, from my balcony window, and a nice breeze in the sun.

"Fidelity": Don't Divorce... from Courage Campaign on Vimeo.


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Lana, checking facebook and laughing: "I've been invited to join a group. It's the 'I Farted In Yoga Class' group. What?! I mean, okay, I guess I can see why I'd be invited. I'm certainly not too good to fart in Yoga class." Pause. Minor disbelief. "'I Farted In Yoga Class.' Man. I hate that word, too."

Nigel: "What, Yoga?"

Lana: "No. Class."

I hope January has been good to you.

Two nights ago, I had a birthday dinner with some of my close friends and was toasted, "To Lana, a beautiful girl and a great mother." The lobster sushi roll was amazing, my lemon drop came in an adorable glass, and I felt luckier than I have in quite some time.

Birthday booty:
-a supersoft bath robe
-an avocado
-Belgian chocolates
-a rose
-that Dead Sea salt lotion/nail system they're always trying to sell you at the mall
(This was kind of awesome because I'd never buy it for myself, but it's actually pretty great)
-a handmade card from a kiddo
-dinner at a great steak/seafood place
-a shoulder massage


Not too bad, all in all. In fact, all of that stuff sounds kind of decadent in a way, so I think this will be my year to be all growed up and refined and luxuriating in sensual bliss. (Yeah. That? Will happen.) (MAYBE!)

I'm planning a bigger birthday party for the end of the month, just as an excuse to get as many of my So-Cal friends together as possible. Making new friends has been going decently well, though again, it's dodgy with the male contingent, as the ones who give me a lot of attention are immediately suspect-- Does he just want to date me? etc

I'm nowhere near ready to date anyone, still being under the little black rain cloud of grieving for the last lost relationship. I actually saw Ryan off the morning he left for Reno, and I'm glad I did. I feel better than I had before, and maybe foolishly hopeful about some things... less sad. I've come to terms with the fact that I'm just going to miss him. He may have hurt me and not been great for me in some ways, but there were things about us together that are really hard to do without. I find myself wanting to tell him about things that happen to me, both good and bad.

Speaking of GOOD, the IRS finally refunded me the money they took a few years ago. I got the checks today, and I am SO RELIEVED I can not even tell you... I went grocery shopping and didn't feel tense about the spending, for a change. I took WiiMan to the pier, where it was delightfully sunny, and we laughed at the giant pelicans who were entertaining the tourists by walking around on the knotted planks and staring out from their wee beady eyes. We wanted ice cream, but I told WiiMan we really had to start treating our bodies better.

Good things are coming! I smell them cookin'!

There's only one corner of the universe you can be certain of improving, and that's your own self. Aldous Huxley

So far, so good.

Lots of changes at Castle Numbskull this week.

On Wednesday, Ryan and I had a talk and decided that it would probably be best for us if he moved back to Orange County and we worked on ourselves before worrying about the relationship. It was a tough talk, but I think it went pretty well. Sad and resolute, but I think we were in agreement and felt mostly optimistic for ourselves. After some talking, it was determined that he would go ahead and attend L2's New Years party with me, and I considered that to be about as good an outcome as we could have hoped for.

I had found a dress at the mall for thirteen (WHAT?!) dollars, a price so low I would never want any guy in my life* to know about it, because from then on he might expect all dresses to fall into that range. Considering the fact that I've gotten too big for all of the clothes in my closet (Whoops!), I was really happy to find something I liked and not have to spend a lot of money on a dress I hope to shrink out of in a month or two.

So Ryan and I showered and began the dolling up process. L2 called me to say she and her manfriend would pick us up, and in an almost unprecedented show of change-for-the-better, I was ready ahead of schedule. Right as we were getting ready to head downstairs, I decided it might be a good idea to take my inhaler. I reached across my nightstand and upset a half-full Coke bottle, which splashed across my skirt, my freshly shaved legs, and into my heels. Awesome!

Thirteen dollar dress, you are my forever love. Thank god you're black and virtually spill-proof. It wiped right up; I couldn't believe it.

So the party was fun-- about twenty people. Lots of loud, happy jokes, food, huddling around a fire and singing. I drank a fair amount but didn't overdo it. I did smoke too much, but thankfully I didn't get sick. When the 2009 countdown came around, Ryan kissed me, and we cried a little. It was happy and sad, as such things often are.

Yesterday was... was there even a yesterday? I basically slept and nursed a mild headache. Oh yeah, we went out for amazing sushi rolls and then hung out with L2 for a while. I worked late and crashed. I think my entire New Years Day was like... four or five hours. Heh.

This morning, I woke up to Ryan packing his things. We didn't really speak much. L2 had agreed to drive with me to take him to Orange County; that way, we could have some girl-time and I'd be spared a kind of wrenching drive back home alone.

It was a masterful plan. She is a truly great friend.

I hugged Ryan tight and said goodbye, L2 was like "All right! I'll be in your car!"... and we left. We spent the afternoon talking our heads off, wandering around Downtown Disney, eating at House of Blues. (Holy crap. The fried shrimp with cheese grits and spinach was DELICIOUS.) We used free-latte coupons at Starbucks and then headed to the Adult Toy Store. I'll spare you the details, but I'll say this: My plan to try something new each week (if not every day) of 2009 is already off to a good start.** It seemed like the right thing to do, symbolically, after your boyfriend moves out. It was fun/ny, and I always like anything of that nature.

So yeah, I'm feeling pretty good about life and decisions and... life decisions. It's kind of tough, but then... so am I.

*I'm sure there are exceptions, but all of the men with whom I have close relationships have zero clue about how much clothing should cost. Their ideas about such things boggle my mind.

**TMI here: I've done things that might make a sailor blush to talk about, but I've never owned or used a "toy" for myself. L2 thought this was amazing and semi-scandalous. I wasn't anti, I just never... had. So we thought it might be fitting and amusing to remedy the situation.

This year flew by, but I was flying with it. Man, I was busy. A recap of what is most conveniently remembered at this second:

So in January, I had just quit working at the preschool, freeing myself from the worst boss of all time. (Seriously. Have you ever been asked to stick your hand mere inches away from your sixty-four year old boss's vagina and hold her underwear forward while she pees so that she does not urinate on her clothing, with the insinuation that she would rather piss your hand? NO? Then trust me. Worst boss of all time. That's just my favorite of the many awful stories.) Sadly, this also meant leaving the best coworkers/friends of all time, along with the many kids and families I'd come to love. Also, I was freezing in San Francisco.

In February, Cthulu came to visit on his vacation from working in Iraq. Two weeks later, he moved back to the States, and we had a blast. Since he's from Texas like I am, this sparked a lot of homesickness, and my wanderlust kicked into overdrive. Also, I was freezing in San Francisco.

In March, we took the whole household to Disneyland. I got into a fight with Captain Hook. WeeMan was still terrified of the Snow White ride (hates witches), and snarling back at the yeti on the Matterhorn officially became a tradition. We left there to visit Palm Springs for the first time, where we all fell in love with the sunshine. I said, "Man, we should move here. I'm always... freezing in San Francisco."

So in April, we did. We actually took a trip to Texas, and on the way, we scouted rentals, discussing options, and Palm Springs looked like the best plan. Still in California, but a full day's drive closer to our friends/relatives in Texas. Cheaper rent, sunnier climate. Oh, yeah. My favorite memory of this month is Cthulu and I driving hours and hours through West Texas with the top down on the convertible, me wearing a bikini and sunglasses, singing aloud with the Kooks and Vampire Weekend while gigantic puffy white clouds sailed across the forever sky at leisure. Everything was looking up!

May saw the actual move, which was tough as expected, but we were all smitten with the new digs. I went swimming every single day, and I think more than anything, that was my favorite part of living in Palm Springs. Popsicles by the swimming pool (holy crap, I just teared up!), throwing WeeMan up so he could splash down in a giggle fit, chasing coyotes down the golf course. It was loverly. I had also just been located by a former employer who'd started his own business and wanted me to work for him-- from home! Awesome. Apparently, he'd been searching for me online for a few years, which would have been fantastic to know back in 2006 when a certain heartless bastard left me and the kids homeless in his economically depressed hometown. Oh well. I probably would never have moved to California, so in the end, it works out.

June was pretty nice, a repeat of May. Roboto was finishing up his job at ILM, and the jobs he'd lined up in the desert weren't panning out the way they were supposed to, so he was nervous. I felt pretty great and optimistic. I dated Dr. Zoo, who lived near San Diego. He would drive up on the weekends and hang out. He took us all to the zoo and we got to see pandas up close, "backstage" if you will. WeeMan lost his flip flop in the hippo pond. We played at a resort in San Diego, splashing cold salty water from a (fake, but lovely) waterfall at each other. We were all freckled and full. Life felt pretty good!

In July, I was really missing my friends in SF and kind of dismayed by how hard it was to meet people in Palm Springs, but that was my only real complaint. We had just started the Belissa videos and were having a blast. Cthulu and I ate at our favorite Mexican place for lunch very frequently, and we went to the water park quite a bit. Holy crap, it was hot. Dr Zoo had gone to visit relatives in Nebraska for several weeks, and I used that time to deliberate on whether or not I liked him or LIKE LIKEd him. I decided on the former, and when he got back, we agreed to be friends. Friends has worked out well. Roboto's desert job actually petered out, so he had to cast a wider net.

That net landed Roboto a job in August, but it was in Carlsbad. (San Diego) He began making a two-hour each-way trek to work at his new job, which seemed to be a great job, and he didn't really complain about the drive. After a few weeks, though, I just couldn't watch him do that anymore. I worked from home, Cthulu wasn't working (and he'd already depleted his funds-- toll beginning of doom), and so there was just no good reason for us to stay that far away from the workplace of the person in our household who made twice as much money as the others. We talked it over and decided to keep the Palm Springs residence, but move to San Diego. We started house-hunting, and I tried not to cry my eyes out about leaving Palm Springs. Most of the time, I succeeded. We also spent two weeks driving across the country to the East Coast, and that was a spectacular vacation I'll never forget. I saw lots of my former homes and friends, and it appeased my homesick streak.

In September, we were living in our new LOVELY house in Oceanside. We played at the beach, Roboto was loved at his job, and WeeMan started school. I bought furniture and played at the beach and the pier. Mid-month, I met two guys who both sent me messages because they'd seen my Belissa videos. Turns out, they were roommates. I talked to one of them first, but then the other drove down to hang out with me. After some ambivalence and awkward moments with a love triangle, I decided to date the one I talked to first. It was lovely, though of course there was the drama involved in the unfortunate jilting of the other roommate. We went to Disneyland again, and I was so happy when we were watching the fireworks, I teared up and wanted the night to last forever. And so it does, in my memory.

October got us a full house and the beginnings of money issues. We were struggling to pay for both residences (two rents in California! Jeesh!), and we rescued our friend who had just lost his home to Hurricane Ike by moving him out here. Cthulu hadn't worked in months and months, and he wasn't contributing to either place's rent or food. The fact that he wouldn't even look for work caused a lot of tension in the household. WeeMan got promoted to the second grade because he's a super-smart genius. For Halloween, we went to San Francisco. I saw some friends, ate at most of my favorite places, and dressed up like Britney Spears with my boyfriend doing a mean Kevin Federline. (Oh, the hilarious unintentional irony. Oh my god.) I missed freezing in San Francisco. I missed burning up in Palm Springs.

In November, obvious cracks started to show in my relationship. I was confused as hell. I had a roommate (and best friend!) who wasn't paying or doing his share, I had a boyfriend who seemed depressed and angry often, and I just kind of lost myself. I was depressed, I couldn't motivate myself to work, and everything seemed to be falling apart around and in me. My family suffered a loss, money problems were getting worse, I felt isolated... this lasted a few weeks. Near Thanksgiving, I worked a lot of it out. I talked to my boss and made amends, met a really wonderful lady whom I am now proud to call friend, and celebrated two Thanksgivings-- one with boyfriend's family, and one with ours. Things got much better, except regarding Cthulu, and he left for Texas. I hoped to remain friends, but I'm still really upset about the way he treated us. He's upset that I don't like the way he treated us. *shrug*

December was rough but still full of lovely. The kids both got nice birthdays, and our Christmas felt cozy and warm. I spent a lot of time with my new friend L2. Things were mostly good with the boyfriend (but when they were bad, they were horrid), and I decided to take a good, hard look at myself and my life... to get it headed in a happier, more productive direction. 2008 had a lot of happiness for me, and I think I've learned a lot. Now I wanna stare 2009 right in the eye and be ready. Ready for good things, ready for hard work, ready for laughter and love and an evolving. I think I am.

WeeMan has just asked that I stop calling him WeeMan.

From here on out, as he has just turned a geriatric seven years old, he would like to be called...

WiiMan.

*headslap*

I hope your holiday was lovely and sweet. I've been thoroughly enjoying the Christmas posts on my friends page (hi, friends!), so thank you for sharing your delightful, hilarious, and beautiful lives with me.

We did our Christmas thing last Sunday, so the kids could play with their loot during the week before Punkinhead has to fly back to Texas. It made for a kind of anticlimactic ACTUAL Christmas Day, but I couldn't see having Punkinhead open her stuff just to pack it up and take it away from here. Depressing.

Anyway, Santa came early. Even though he doesn't actually believe in Santa, everyone in this house secretly kinda does, in that fun pretend way, so we told Wee-Man that we won some kind of Santa Lotto wherein the Nick does an early-drop-off for especially good kids. It helps him knock off a few names from the list, too, so that he can get back to the NP in time to cuddle up with Mrs Claus by morning. The children were quite pleased with his offerings, and WeeMan was absolutely screaming out about everything he saw under the tree. Man, I wish I could get that excited by giant stuffed animals.

It was fabulous.

Ryan left on Tuesday night to go with his family to Las Vegas, where his whole clan gathers at the grandparents' abode. It kind of stunk to be without him for a few days, but as always happens when he's away, we seem to appreciate each other's company that much more when we're reunited. Which we were, today. There's a lot (!) of ambivalence in our relationship these days, but there's no doubt that we feel very strongly for/toward/about one another. And oh, how I love to snuggle up with him and sleep with his arms around me. I'll be doing that some time around four in the morning, after I finish some work.

Speaking of work, holy crap. I'm working for half-pay this month (I offered, because I really suffered a poor ethic in November and felt I owed it to my employer), so my boss seems to be taking full advantage by throwing an UNREAL amount of work at me. I've been up all night every day this week, toiling away with my caffeine and my self-pity. Oh well. At least I'm working.

I feel pretty terrible about not getting to be in Texas this year, especially since my dad's diabetes seems to be taking a serious toll. I used up many, many hours of cell phone minutes trying to catch up with as much family as I could, and of course, it's just not the same. On the upside, my sister and I shared some hilarious memories with the Ghost of Christmas Past. Maybe I'll write up some of those stories soon, because never was there a more ridiculous childhood than the one she and I shared.

I just got back from my friend L2's house, where I hung out with four amazing women. I don't know HOW long it's been since I actually had a Girls Night like that, but I do know it was way overdue. I really want more good female friends. I feel like I have SO much to do, and so much I'm not getting done-- seeing friends who are in town, making new ones, working out and getting healthy, cleaning the house, finishing my work projects-- and yet, that's all I AM doing. Maybe it's just that whole end-of-year feeling. That desire to wrap things up, pretty, with a bow on top... get started on the New Year.

Anyway, cheers to you, my darlings. I sent no Christmas cards this year, like an absolute loser, after all that planning and gathering addresses, so I plan to make up for it with something WHOLLY! UNEXPECTED! and AWESOME! (maybe!) in January.

Ryan and I were standing on the balcony watching it rain and talking to the dog for each other's benefit.

"Man, Tater," I said, as the puppy jumped up on my shins and stared up at me. "You need to get down, with your old man eyebrows. You look like the old guy puppet from Today's Special."

Ryan laughs and starts singing, "Today's Speeeecial... shouting loud and clear! Today's Special."

"Oh my god. Doesn't he?" Tater needs to be clipped. His hair is all over his eyes.

"What, the mop--"

I interrupt, rudely. "Not the Jheri curl guy. The old puppet guy. The security guard."

"I thought he was a cab driver."

"Haha! Maybe. I don't know. I think he was a security guard, though. Right? Wasn't it after hours in a store?"

"Yeah, maybe."

"That lady and that Jheri curl guy who is a mannequin that comes to life. What the hell? And he's dancing and pirhouetting all over the place. Awesome. Today's Special was totally a 'well, I'm staying home from school today' show."

"Yes. Today's Special! And then they'd say, 'Today's Special is the letter P' or something."

"Like a fake-ass Sesame Street. That show was so weird! Was that like, a mass hallucination by sick children on couches? Today's Special is the show that proves kids will watch any damn thing if it comes on Nickelodeon. Or like... Pinwheel!"

Ryan and I both start singing the Pinwheel song. "That was a fake Sesame Street, too."

"Or, or... David the Gnome."

"Hey, I liked David the Gnome!"

"Well... you're a boy. My brother liked David the Gnome, too. Chen (my sister) and I would watch it, but the whole time, we were making this face." I make a face that is a mix of curiosity and confusion with a bit of disgust. "But it was on Nick, so you had to watch."

"Aww, he was talking to animals."

"Yeah, but he was creepy! Remember that Cities of Gold show?"

"Nuh-uh. Was it like a game show where they ran around?"

"No, no. It had Esteban, this kid... and a giant condor." We came inside and looked it up on the computer. Some website had a description and a video of the intro, so we watched it. Ryan remembered it right away and we laughed at how silly the song was. Yes, kids will watch anything.

Awww. Makes me want Chicken Noodle Soup.

WeeMan's birthday has been saved! I've alluded to the fact that money is tighter than ever this year, what with paying rents on two places and getting in a rut with a deadbeat roommate and and and... (I have lots of friends dealing with layoffs and trouble finding work, so I know I'm not alone on this one; I do have plenty to be grateful for, so forgive my indulgence in writing about my worries.)

Both of my kids are December birthdays, so aside from the holiday making this an unfortunate time to be short on funds, I have been really worried about trying to come through for them. Punkinhead was down not long ago, and thank god her demands were easy to meet. She just wanted a fairly reasonable trip to the book store; she's turning thirteen. WeeMan will be seven. He usually gets a traditional trip to Build-A-Bear, and I love the fact that he's got a lineup of all his stuffed pals to look at, commemorating his yearly graduation to a new age. His actual birthday is Christmas Day, so I'm extra sensitive to the idea that he might get the shaft with a BS Xmas/bday combo, but... it just hasn't been looking good this year. I didn't see how we could do the stuffed animal, even with regard to finding the time to do it SHOULD we somehow scrape up the money. This has been really stressing me out.

(Let me add that my kid isn't a spoiled brat and doesn't give me the impression that HE would have a fit if his presents weren't what they normally are. In fact, when I had him write a Santa list, all he wanted was a video game and "new legs for" our friend with cerebral palsy. It is precisely BECAUSE he's such a good, compassionate, unselfish kid that I'm so stressed out. I want to be able to reward him; I'm so proud to be his mom.)

On the way to see L2's son in a school play last Friday, I spoke on the phone to Dr. Zoo. I haven't really seen him much since we stopped dating over the summer, despite the fact that I no longer live two hours away. He teaches a college class that keeps him really busy, and I have a zillion things going on at a time, so we occasionally message each other, in a vague way, that we should hang out. After all, we do seem to genuinely like one another.

Anyway, so Dr Zoo reminded me that he still had six free tickets for Sea World that we never used. He proposed a trip on Sunday, and though I was concerned it would be some combination of cold, grey, and rainy, I figured it might be fun, and free fun is always good. Dr Zoo must have been inspired by divine direction or something. I don't know, but I'm just incredibly grateful. WeeMan WAS THRILLED. It was such a good time!

( More about the birthday and pics of cake )

Despite the fact that we have (way) less money for Christmas than we've had in the past three years or more, we are all still feeling pretty good about the holidays. Wee-Man is especially excited, of course, because he's six... and Christmas Day is also his birthday.

I told Wee-Man he could come with me to the mall to buy Ryan a sausage. (He loves those.) Apparently, this prompted Wee-Man to taunt Ryan with guessing games about what we were going to buy. He does this every year, because he's excited about happy surprises and JUST! MUST! SHARE! though he tries so hard not to tell.

Later, I was teasing Ryan that I was going to fill his stocking with Jimmy Dean breakfast sausages (I guess I'm just as bad as Wee-Man, really. No. I am.), and Ryan said, "Ohh, that's what you're gonna get me-- a sausage. Wee-Man was making me guess S words."

"Unh! Well, that's not ALL, of course, but yeah, I was thinking about putting one in your stocking, because..."

"That would look disturbing."

"I think the word you're looking for is 'hilarious.' Doesn't matter. You can't have it now, because that brat spilled the beans. Now it's not as funny, and you won't be surprised."

"Aww! I want one."

Grumble, grumble.

Later I had (another) talk with Wee-Man about how we have to keep quiet about our gift plans, and I asked him what HE wanted to get Ryan.

"Spaghetti?"

I giggled, and Wee-Man instantly put his head down in humiliation and started to cry. "Aww, you don't like my idea," he said.

!!!

"No, baby, I do like it. I was just excited because I didn't know you could think of something like that!" (True. I didn't. HA.) "If you want us to give Ryan spaghetti, we can. I'll help you make some, and we can surprise him with it on Christmas, okay?"

So, Ryan's getting spaghetti. I let him know this was coming, so he could act sufficiently grateful. "I don't know why, dude, but he wants to get you spaghetti."

"That was one of the things I guessed for 'S' words," he said.

"Ohhhhh! He must have thought that, because you guessed it, you were HOPING it was spaghetti. Poor baby."

Following up on this newly discovered talent WeeMan has for gifting, I asked him what he wanted to get Roboto.

"Um, one of those software things that helps you hear?"

Roboto. He totally just called you deaf. More to come as WeeSanta fills out his awesome list.

Me: Just out of the bath, dressing by the closet. Hey, Ryan, so are you going to apply for that job at [local Amusement Park]?

Ryan: Yeah. You said you want to apply, too?

M: Well, only if we both worked there. That might be fun... (as a supplement to my other full-time job.) What are they hiring for?

R: Seasonal.

M: Pay?

R: Not great, but it's more than I'm making now. Yeah, if -they- don't hire me, I'm going to be -really- depressed.

M: Eh. They might want teenagers. Sometimes they do that.

R: That's true. They might want pups.

M: Heh. Yeah. Pups. They would prefer Scrappy Doo to Grampy Doo. I grin wickedly at Ryan and repeat it, accusing. GRAMPY Doo! (Ryan is not yet thirty. I'm just bitter because, in about five weeks, I'll be 32.)

R: Grampy Doo was really a character on Scooby, wasn't he?

M: I don't know. I think I do remember an old one, but... haha. Grampy? Was it? Grampy Dooooo.

R: Yeah, and Dummy Doo.

M: Dummy Doo? WHAT? haha. DUMMY DOO?

R: Yes! It was Scooby's retarded cousin or something.

M: Shut up.

R: I'm serious. Dummy Doo. He--

M: laughing. YOU're Dummy Doo. I'm calling you Dumm--

R: He was a white dog, you don't remember? He had a hat squished down on his head--

M: No!

R: And he talked in this retarded-- I'm looking it up.

M: Wait. Was he like, Bubba?

R: Yeah.

M: Grampy Doo and Dummy Doo. Ooookay.

And it turns OUT...

Oh, man.

Grog Bleh Meep Blah.

I slept for maybe an hour last night. I don't know WHAT was wrong with me, but when I went to bed, my muscles felt knotted all over, I felt bloated and weird and kinda panicky. I couldn't get comfortable even snuggled up with Ryan (which is truly bizarre), and every time I began to doze, I would jerk awake and need to reposition. Ryan says that I also kept whimpering or making crying sounds before I'd wake up. I knew I was driving him crazy, so I got up around four and went in to Roboto's room. He sleeps through anything and is good at absentmindedly patting me in his sleep. I stayed there for about an hour but realized I was just going to wake him up, too, so I staggered through the house until the sun came up, checked on Wee-Man a few unnecessary times, and then curled back up with Ryan. I finally got comfortable around six thirty, only to have to wake up a little after seven for my weekly work conference call. UGH. MISERABLE.

So now it's 10 AM, I'm off the conference, and all I want to do is crawl back into bed. I know if I do that, though, I'll just completely wreck my sleep schedule and waste the entire day. Oh, Coca-Cola, god of caffeine. Get me through this day. (Yay, more corn syrup bloat.)

Man, I don't know what was wrong with me. I was just sure I was dying.

</whining>

Oh wait. Actually? More whining, on the off chance one of you can give advice. bunnybutt, I'm looking at you in particular. My effed up shoulder has been hurting again, a year after the cortisone shot that seemed to work miracles. I went to the doctor yesterday and got some prescriptions (wanting to put off another shot. I hear they're bad for you.) and have to go get an x-ray today to follow up from last year's MRI. I know surgery is imminent. I've already put off my knee surgery for a few years, and I'm not getting any younger. IF ANY OF YOU has a successful joint surgery story, please share it. All I know of are horror stories, including the one where my stepmom's brother-in-law dropped DEAD from a blood clot after knee surgery, so I am just terrified and keep procrastinating, but I'd love to just brave it out and stop hurting. Not being able to use a left arm and left leg is impeding my physical activities and proving to be a big problem in the GREAT WEIGHT GAIN of Yours Truly.

k, fine. </whining>

NOW FOR SOME HAPPY STUFF.

Last night, we went over to hang out at my new friend L2's house. Met her friend (whom I shall call) Thrax, who seems very cool, too. L2 is rad and has similar relationship horror stories to mine own. Since she has kids, I feel like we can probably relate very well on all of that. She is quick and funny and friendly and likes good music. Best of all, she seems down to earth and open/honest with a healthy sense of humor about herself... and life in general. I'm going to try not to scare her off with a super aggressive desire to adopt her for BFF status. Maybe. She's coming to my place later today with her brood, so I'm excited. I feel like a kid anticipating a playdate. Playdates with book-borrowing and word games and wine. Awesome. I've been needing that. Coming back from her place last night, I said to Ryan, "Yay, friends! And so close to home. She's like, five minutes away!" And I marveled at that. (Ryan isn't from here, and his/our friends through him live a good 45 minutes north. I just moved here a couple months ago and have only met... well, Ryan and his friends 45 mins north, or guys for dating interest, bleh.*)

Tonight is the street fair that takes place weekly, a few blocks away. The best food in the WORLD is over there, so occasionally we attend, get too full, and then walk it off at the beach and the pier. We comment on the guys fishing and listening to Johnny Cash, the fog or the moon (depending on weather), and watch the brave night-surfers wiping out in the dark sea. We hold hands.

I can't wait.

* I would be totally open to having those dating-interest guys fall into place as "just friends," especially one in particular who I really, really liked, but he is not open to hanging out with Ryan around. He feels like that's just too "weird right now," and THAT makes it feel weird to Ryan, so it is probably never going to happen. Stuff like that is interesting to me, because I know if we said we were "just friends" and I wasn't dating anyone, we'd go on hanging out and I'd think we were just friends when, apparently that isn't REALLY the case, or Ryan's existence wouldn't bug him. Does that make sense? Do you see the point I'm making, probably not very clearly? It's a bummer.

It's 3:33 AM. I'll make a wish.

I'm taking a break from working on Google AdWords, because my eyes are crossing, I'm exhausted, and Firefox just froze up and lost the last thirty minutes or so of labor-intensive shit I was doing. Sigh.

Any opinions on Opera? Anyone? Anyone? Beuller? I really like the "find" function on Firefox, as it's very useful for my job, and I hate IE.

A few random thoughts:

* I find it hilarious that we all watch The Biggest Loser while eating dinner in front of the tv on Tuesday nights, usually something awful like pizza or fast food. Also, I really don't want Vicky to win, but she looks pretty great with red hair. Also also, I sometimes daydream about Jillian coming here to kick my ass. That would rule, I'm not gonna' lie to ya.

* This is the first year, in all my life, in which I have lived in a home that was decorated on the outside with twinkly lights for Christmas. (Well, that I can remember. We did put out a strand of really measly looking light-up snowflakes in San Francisco, but they looked kind of sad, whereas these look great.) It makes me happy. Ryan and I put them up outside the balcony off of my second-floor bedroom. When we went out for Cokes last night and drove down the street, for a split second I got excited about the pretty lights on "that" house before I gleefully realized it was ours!

* Speaking of the balcony, when we were stepping out onto it tonight to share a "secret," I asked Ryan to grab the Uggs I wore for my Britney costume. It was wicked cold out there, and I figured they'd come in handy. Since the shoes were in the garage, when Ryan brought them upstairs, I asked him if he checked them for spiders. I was actually kidding (mostly. I didn't expect that he atually had/would), but he gamely stuck his BARE HANDS into them to check for me. Awww.

* We are all so broke this year. It's going to be one of those Very Special Christmases where we are all just glad to have each other and "pass the cocoa, no marshmallows." Things should improve after the New Year; I've been waiting for a check the IRS owes me, but I somehow doubt they'll get it to me in time to do any Christmas good. Maybe we'll do a weird belated gift thing in January, after my birthday. At least I have a job. I'm grateful for that.

Speaking of jobs, I'd better get back to it.

If you'd like a Christmas/Holiday/Seasonal card from Castle Numbskull this year, please let me know. If you're able to read this, I'm willing and able to send one-- I think I might even top last year's Dinosaurs-Attacking-the-Gingerbread-House motif.

The Mosaic Meme, as taken from the LJ of rockgeisha

01. Answer each of the questions below the cut using the Flickr search engine.
02. Choose a photo from the first three pages.
03. Copy the URL of your favorite photos here.
04. Then share with the world.

( Pretty, pretty pictures... )