Going Backward

I have a new social theory.

Are you familiar with the adage that the elderly, especially those suffering some form of dementia, are in their second childhood? Well here's a new take on middle age. What we consider middle age in this culture is like a second adolescence.

Consider this:

Adolescence	Middle Age
Rapidly fluctuating hormones influence behavior and attitude	Hormone balance changes, especially with women going through menopause, and influence behavior and attitude
Trying to figure out who you are and what you want to do with your life	Mid-life crisis: ditto
Rebelling against parents; trying to become independent from parents	Parents rebelling against you; parents becoming dependent on you
A sense that you've got your whole life ahead of you, so go for it!	A sense that at least half your life is over. Retirement is ahead, time and freedom to do what you want, so go for it! While you still can…
Worrying about the future	Worrying about the future (OK, this one is consistent throughout life)

There are probably more similarities, but that's what I can think of right now. What do you think? Agree or disagree? Have any characteristics to add?

Quasi interesting factoid

Superman was doing some figuring the other day while looking at what laughingly passes for our budget. We spend roughly $180 in one month on milk.

I'm getting better...

I think. I thought so yesterday, but when I got home from work everything fell apart. Work was busy and stressful yesterday and I was able to hold it together very well all day long. But as soon as I saw Superman it was as if the pressure valve suddenly released, and I went all psycho-bitch on his ass. It surprised the hell out of me! I had no idea where the vituperation was coming from. I'm not typically like that with him.

This is what started it. I was the last one home yesterday, so the other two cars were already in the driveway. C's car was parked beside the garage and the van was in front of the garage. (Of course we don't keep cars in the garage as there is no room. You should know me well enough by now to have figured that out.) There isn't a whole lot of room in front of the garage, though it is wide enough for 2 cars. But each car has to stay on its own side in order for the third car, the one parked beside the garage, to get out if necessary. The van was not over far enough for me to fit my truck beside it. It made me boiling mad. Which is stupid; it's not that big a deal really. But I wasn't in my right mind.

I called Superman from my cell phone while stopped in the middle of the street in front of the house. I fussed, told him to move the damn van. He came out and pulled completely out of the driveway. I just wanted him to back up far enough to scoot over. That made me more mad. He drove in, I backed in beside him. (I prefer backing my vehicle into a parking spot when possible.) He came up to my door and asked if I'd had a bad day. I glared at him and growled "Back away slowly." As soon as I saw him, as soon as he said something nice to me, I let down my guard. I wasn't even aware that I had my guard up! I was immediately sorry that I'd growled at him, but he had gone back inside by then. I felt horrible all over again (see Sunday's post) and got all teary.

I was afraid that I was about to go into freak-out mode: uncontrollable crying, rapid breathing, inability to speak. C knows how to handle me when I get like that. He helps talk me down and I trust him. Those freak-out sessions scare the crap out of my darling husband, which just makes me even more upset. So I said I wanted to talk to C. He and I went back to my room and started talking. S and Superman kept walking in, derailing my fragile sense of continuity. The last time Superman came in he said he was on his way to get milk, did I want anything. Without thinking, without guarding my words, I said "Yes! I want to be left alone!" Oh, shit. He beat a hasty retreat. As soon as he was gone I said to C "Oops. I didn't mean it that way. Do you think he's mad?"

He was mad.

I can be frustrating to live with. I annoy him sometimes, but never on purpose. He gets exasperated with me. But he almost never gets really mad at me. Last night he was really mad at me. Understandable. I had been incredibly ugly to him. I was sharing my frustrations with C, shutting my husband out completely. None of this was intentional. It's as if everything I said to him came out wrong. I tried to explain and ended up making more of a mess.

When Superman got back from the store I sent C away and focused once again on trying to communicate what I was REALLY feeling with my darling husband. He came in and said he wanted to talk to me, so shut up and listen. I shut up and listened. Everything he said, all the frustrations that have been building for the last few weeks, he was accurate about. I've been hard to deal with, I haven't been much help around the house or with the children. Everything he said was true. After asking permission to speak [ :-) ] I was finally able to say what I meant to say earlier. I corrected him on some misconceptions he had about my words and actions, but mostly agreed with him that I've been a bitch. I apologized, of course. Hell, I'd been apologizing all evening.

Then he held me and I told him all about it, all the stuff I'd been telling C. I intended all along to tell him all that stuff, I just wanted to talk to C first so I'd be less frightening when I talked to Superman. We talked, I had a good cry (not the scary cry) and he comforted me. It took about an hour of talking and hugging and crying before we were all better. I was emotionally exhausted! He was, too. I slept well.

Superman and I don't really fight. We disagree often, but most of the time we have no anger toward each other in our differences of opinion. Last night he was angry at me. I was angry at me, too, but not at him. What I just described is typical of our fights. We don't raise our voices when we argue and we usually come to a peace fairly quickly. I don't hold grudges, hardly ever with most everybody and certainly not Superman. I don't have the energy for that foolishness!

So I think I'm feeling better today. I know Superman and I are both feeling better about each other. I'm about to go back to work now. We'll see tonight if I'm still sane or if I'm back to channelling the psycho-bitch from Hell.

Monday update after a bad Sunday

I was at least able to function at work today.
But I still feel like an old piece of tissue paper left out in the rain, colors running into the cracks in the sidewalk, what little structure I have turning to mush.

I had an extremely busy day at work. One of the other special needs drivers was out today and I took half of her route this afternoon. This morning I had some paper work to do, some loose ends to tie up (no, not you this time Patrick), some situations to double check. Then I had my mid-day route. It's a short one, but interupts the flow of the day.

And I had an appointment with my therapist. I broke down all over again. This is the first time she's seen me anything but chipper. I could barely form coherent thoughts. It got me all wobbly again, and I had to rush back to work when I left her office.

Notice I said nothing about food? I didn't have a chance to eat much today. I grabbed a milkshake on my way back from the bank. (Oh, yeah, I forgot that one. My account fell down thanks to a late-coming charge from my trip last month. I had to go pick it back up again. Thankfully today is payday, so I had a little bit of money with which to fix it.) I had some ice water and 4 granola bars. That, plus a little carton of yogurt I had at 5 this morning, is all I've had. I know I need fuel to function, I just didn't have a chance to do much about it until now. And now I'm not doing anything about it. I don't want to. I'm angry, or sad, I dunno. I can't bear the thought of going into the kitchen. Maybe I'll go get an apple. I know we have some on the counter in there, and I can bring it back to the bedroom to eat it.

Being busy at work helped get me through the day. Except it was stressful and exhausting, leaving nothing to work with now. The therapist had some ideas about rallying the troups for the cleaning expedition. She also said we'd do it when I feel stronger. I have nothing right now. No umph, no encouragement, no way for me to support my directives. So I'll think about it "tomorrow." (not necessarily Tuesday. You know, a vague concept called tomorrow)

I'm rambling again. I'm going to get that apple, maybe a bit of peanut butter and a handful of raisins, come back and check a few blogs. Then I'm going to bed. My bedtime goal for tonight is 8:00. I'm already showered and dressed for bed. And the most wonderful husband in the entire world has taken the kids to their soccer game and will do what else needs to be done, then tuck them into bed. Isn't he super?

And thanks all of you for your encouragement and support. I'll appreciate it more when I feel better.

Not a good Sunday

Real quick now, because it is very late. I've been asleep, but indigestion woke me up and I need to sit up straight for a bit before I lie back down to sleep.

I had a bad day today. I was feeling kind of stressed in the morning, a bit unsteady but not too bad. I've been taking a look around me at all the crap that I need to do, the cleaning, organizing, sorting. The house is a horrid mess. We have too much stuff and too little space. It's a 1600 square foot house with 8 people living here. And I'm a pack rat and a mess. When I see such a big mess I get overwhelmed and do other stuff to avoid it, which of course makes it all worse.

Neither Superman nor I are good at delegating the work. We have 5 kids in the house now who are able to wash dishes, fold clothes, sweep floors, etc. But we have no kind of system in place to assign those responsibilities and of course none of them volunteer to do any of this work. The dishes pile up until no one can work in the kitchen, the kids can't find clean clothes, and chaos reigns. I blame myself. Of course I should make charts, assign chores, do more to increase the general organization in the household and make it easier for everyone to contribute to the good of the cause. But I don't. I haven't. I'm not sure how to, but I haven't really tried. When I do make attempts in that direction I never follow through, so we might have a plan in place for a week or so, then it goes pfift because I don't keep up with it.

So about 3:00 this afternoon Sproing asked me to make popcorn for him. He had a friend spend the night last night, while Diva spent the night with this boy's sister at their house. The boys played well today and had a pretty good time. They went out to play after lunch and picked up a couple of other boys from the neighborhood. There were 4 or 5 boys in the living room watching a movie, and Sproing asked me to make them some popcorn. Fine. I went into the kitchen, which was a mess. I had to clean off the stove, find the pot I use to make popcorn, excavate it from the bottom of the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, wash it, dry it, yada yada yada. It took me almost half an hour just to start cooking. I couldn't find the lid to the pot, so I used a larger lid. I made more of a mess with what was already on the stovetop because I'm clumsy. Anyway, by the time the popcorn was popping I had just about lost all semblance of cool I had. I was burning my hands trying to hold this lid on the pot, and I could smell the popcorn beginning to burn. I knocked some other stuff over on the stove, onto the hot eye, ... shit, it was a mess. Probably would have been funny to watch it on a sit-com. I was far far far away from amused.

I blew my stack. Screamed, yelled, cried. Superman had gone to take Light back to school and had been gone for about 3 hours. He walked in the kitchen door, right behind where I was having a melt-down at and on the stove, right into my screaming tirade. At some point, as usual when I lose it, I lost my ability to form words. I was standing there in the kitchen making screaming and moaning noises, (not in a good way, believe me!) pointing at the mess, tears streaming down my face. It wasn’t pretty. Superman took the pot out of my hands and sent me to the bedroom. All I could do was mumble at a screaming volume. I got on the bed and just cried for a long time. It was a hard cry, but not even a good cry.

I finally got the tears and screams under control enough, then I started cleaning. It’s what I have needed to do, what I’ve been avoiding for days (longer, really, if I’m honest about it. I don’t want to be honest about it right now, thankyouverymuch). I worked on the pile of junk beside my bed and made fair progress. I feel like it isn’t enough.

I feel like a failure. Again. My head is telling me bad things about myself. I’m not supposed to listen, or believe it, but it’s the truth. Yes, I have many fine qualities. There are many things I like about myself. But I also have a lot of bad qualities. Some days they don’t balance out. In the larger view, the big picture, I’m OK. In the small details of life, the foundations of things, where the rubber meets the road, I’m just a mess. How the hell can I accomplish the big things if I can’t even keep my room clean? Why do I feel it so demeaning to do general cleaning? I feel horrible about myself when I push a vacuum or wield a mop, but I feel even worse when I don’t and it looks like a pig sty in here. There is something seriously wrong with me. I need a keeper. But I don’t deserve a keeper because that indicates I’m a failure at the things I’m supposed to be able to do.

We are getting nowhere.

Maybe it is all hormones, and I’ll be functional in a few days. Maybe I’ll be functional, but my house will still be a pig sty. Maybe “functional” means I semi-successfully ignore the chaos, but what kind of functionality is that?

I’m not sure I want to post this. But in the interest of honesty, in the interest of informing you just how fucked up I really am under all the good intentions, I think I will. I’m mad enough at myself to spread my shit on the internet.

Gawd, I need to shut up and go to sleep. I’m supposed to be functional by 5:50. That’s like four hours from now. Shit. And this tirade is giving me a headache.

Shit

Random things that amuse me

I like words. I like to play with words and word meanings in and out of context. Not too fond of structured word games, though. No Scrabble, word search puzzles annoy me, don't even talk about crossword puzzles. I like the words that live around me, and I have loads of fun rearranging those words to change emphasis and meaning. I've been seeing things and thinking of things recently that amuse the hell out of me.

-The local Chrysler dealership has a fancy electronic marquee out front and they're featuring some of the employees. I saw this while driving the bus the other day and it entered my brain in another context. "Leroy is your Hot Rod Specialist." Hey, Rod, know anyone named Leroy? This fella' might be looking for a good time.

-I got an email from my aunt the other day. She was telling me about plans for her day, which included a trip for my uncle to a gathering of like-minded buddies. She wrote "Uncle B is going to a meeting of a paddling group tonight in (name of city)." *Gasp!* I had no idea my relatives were so kinky! Wait, they aren't. Y'all, this is an indication that I may be spending a lot of time reading your blogs.

It turns out that my uncle is only interested in kayaking. Is it wrong that I am relieved?

-You know the book Eats, Shoots & Leaves? Well, I was doing that sort of punctuation rearranging in my head. Here's the before and after:

Somewhere, Joe is tying up loose ends.
Somewhere Joe is tying up Loose Ends.

I swear, y'all, sometimes I just can't help myself. (hehehehehehe)

Do you remember? Random brain firings

-I want my milk delivered. Who remembers milk delivery? We had an insulated milk box on our front porch, a square cube of approximately 16 inches. I remember being in trouble with my grandmother one Sunday morning. She spanked me (!! it was the softest spank I ever remember, and the only specific spanking I remember. Effective lady, my grandmommie) and sent me out to sit on the milk box. I was 4 years old. We moved from that house a year later and I have never had milk delivery since.

-S gave me his old camera case for my little digital camera. It is made by Samsonite. This little soft-sided case is not the image that immediately comes to mind when I think "Samsonite." Who remembers the Samsonite TV commercial with the gorilla throwing around a suitcase in his cage?

-My darling mother took a picture of my messy room when I was in my early teens. She said she'd save it to show to my boyfriends when I was older, especially anyone I was real serious about. Now I'm 46 years old and have been married for 25 years. My entire house is at least as messy as that room was. If I recall, Mama never showed that picture to Superman. Although the mess is stress inducing to some extent, my wonderful Superman doesn't make a big deal about it. He's not going to leave me because I'm a bad housekeeper. (Damn, he'd have left years ago if that were the case) He stays because he loves me, and I think because I make love to him often. Whatever it is, it works.

-I have an appointment with my therapist this morning. It has been a month since we last met. I want to make sure we meet more frequently. I need her perspective and the questions she asks me.

12 for 12 from Tuesday

This is what the clock read as I left this morning. It's saying I should have left 10 minutes ago. I was checking email and got.... distracted by a blog. I blame you.
My dear little Sproing has lost his spring. He is home sick today. Actually today he is feeling much better, but still not quite well enough to go to school. This is a difficult part of the healing process. He feels well enough to jump around and be annoying, but not well enough to go to school. I gave him some work to do. He also watched DVDs a lot of the day.

This is the town's soup kitchen. This was taken at around 9:30 a.m. Lunch is served at 11:00, I think. I met a homeless man last night at the church across the street from this location. He was asking about this place and if or when dinner was served. They only do lunch. I gave him a couple of dollars for some food, but I went back to the area to look for him. I gathered a few basic supplies (toothpaste, toilet paper, razor, bar of soap) to give him, and I wanted to ask a few questions about his situation. But I couldn't find him. Oh, well.
This is the county court house. I was trying to find some information on properties sold at tax auction. I got no satisfaction. But it's a nice shot of the courthouse, anyway.
Time to go back to work. Tuesday is my busy day at work. I finish my morning run around 8:15, give or take 10 minutes. On Tuesdays I have a student who goes to the alternative school that I need to pick up between 11:15 and 11:30. After taking him to school (assuming he's at the bus stop) I then go to one of the high schools to take the special needs classes to the YMCA. This is a shot of my bus, Henry, (the one in the center, farthest away) waiting for my return.

This is the bus stop for the alternative school student. Notice the absence of any student. I get paid for showing up. So I show up. He shows up less than half the time. This kid's schedule requires only 2 days of school a week, only 2 hours per day. He has a hard time making that committment. There are many problems with the school system. Some of them are the fault of the schools, some of them are the fault of the students and parents. In this case I think all parties are responsible for the failure. And that's all the soap-boxing I'm going to do at this time.

From the previous bus stop, I head straight for the high school. I am the unofficial bus driver for the two special ed classes at this school. Together there are about 18 students, 2 teachers, and 4 or 5 assistants/aides/para-professionals. (I'm not sure exactly what these associates are called.) Three of the students are in wheel chairs. I only have 2 wheel chair docking stations on my bus. It works because one of the students is able to sit in a seat as long as someone sits beside her to keep her from falling into the aisle. We stow her chair in front of one of the other wheelchairs, and that young man holds her chair to prevent it from sliding around. With everyone present we have a very full bus! They spend the hour from noon to 1 p.m. at the YMCA engaged in various athletic pursuits. I park the bus in the side parking lot and spend that hour engaged in various quiet solitary pursuits. It is one of my favorite times of the whole week at work. This picture shows my bus with the Y building in the background. It was a beautiful day. The clouds were particularly appealing, I thought. This shot would probably work better with some kind of colored filter, but this is what I got.
And I got it again from a slightly different perspective. Both these shots were taken as I was waiting for the students to leave the Y. The sky was a lovely shade of blue, and the contrast between cloud and sky was striking. I don't know how well that shows up here, though. This is one of my kindergarten students. I stop at her mailbox in the afternoon so she can check the mail. I wait for her to empty the box and get at least 10 feet up the driveway before I pull off. This prevents me from driving over her. We learn this stuff in training. Actually, she should just get off and go up the drive. I'm just nice (a sucker) and let her check the mail. It means so much to her. See how far away the house is? In the morning when I get to the house she is still in it. It takes her a long time to wonder down the long driveway in the dark. It is still dark when I get there at 6:30. If I were stricter (less of a sucker) I'd demand from her and her mother that she be at the end of the driveway by the time I get there. But it has been cold recently, and it's dark, and I'm a pushover. So I wait.
This is the toilet in the girls' bathroom at the day care center where Diva goes after school. Can you see that it is especially designed for small children? The thing is SHORT! I begin my afternoon work on Tuesdays at 11:00 in the morning. After I take the special ed classes back to school I go straight into my afternoon route. I'm not finished until 4:00-4:30, depending on the vagaries of the day. I usually take a pit stop at the high school before I pick up my first afternoon student. But by 4:30 when I got Diva from the day care it was obvious that I needed to stop by the little girl's room. I, however, am anything but a LITTLE girl. I could have searched for a more adult sized facility, but priorities today were different. It isn't as amazing that I got onto the toilet as it is that I got UP from the toilet. It wasn't a very good toileting experience. There wasn't any toilet paper in the dispenser, which of course I didn't notice until it was too late to do anything about it.

That's my Diva in the doorway beside a piss poor mural on the wall. Yes, it is a church opperated day care. They are conviently located and affordable, and I don't adamantly object to the message. But I'm settling. Since Sproing got kicked out (did I tell you about that fiasco?) a month ago, things have been pretty peaceful.

Time to meet the family

In the spirit of getting to know me, you should meet me and my family. Well, you've met them in the stories I tell, but I want to show you some pictures. Pictures might help tell the story or possibly raise some questions. We need to do this.

Pay no attention to the mess that is my kitchen. That's a subject for another post.

This first picture is a shot of Superman and the dynamic duo, Sproing on the left, Diva on the right. They are both 10 years old, both in 4^th grade. Both are (obviously) adopted. They aren't biologically related, and Diva is 1.5 months older than Sproing. We got custody of Sproing when he was 4 days old. We picked him up from the hospital in Charleston, SC, where he was born. Diva came to us the day she turned 14 months old, about 2 weeks after Sproing's first birthday.

And here is Twitch, who is allegedly no longer a danger to society. He just turned 17. You be the judge. In his favor, he does not have a driver's license yet, so he's not behind the wheel.

This is my beloved C, who in this photo is pissed at me because I am in his room taking a picture of him while he is trying to nap. He usually has a much more pleasant expression on his face. And aren't his blue plaid pajamas so cute? Some day I'll have to take another photo of him when he thinks he is prepared to be photographed. C is a first semester junior at Lander University.

And finally we have the ubiquitous S, who knows how to strike a pose, baby. He's just come inside from having a smoke and "stealing" a daffodil from the next door neighbor's yard. He's young and beautiful and charming and he knows it. And he has a driver's license, though he is a much better driver than C, whose vision is impaired and IMHO shouldn't be allowed behind the wheel at all, but that too is a discussion for another day. S turned 18 in November. He's been living with us now for about a year and 3 months, officially. He was here most of the time for the summer before that, the summer of 2006. He stayed here often from August to when he finished moving all his stuff here in December. He should be a senior in high school now, but he dropped out last semester. I was strongly against that idea and we all encouraged him to stay in school and get his diploma. He's got a mind of his own and it's a strong one.
We are missing a photo of Light. She isn't here at the moment and I don't believe I have a current photo of her saved on this computer. I'll try to get a picture of her up here on the blog soon. She'll probably even get her own post instead of sharing one with the rest of this crazy crowd.
Oh, I've also "forgotten" to post a picture of myself. Yea, well, I'm not proud of my appearance these days and am reluctant to show you. But I will, because that's the kind of honest gal I am.

This shot shows off my hair, which is one of my best features. It also accentuates those chins terribly. Let me see if I can find another one I'm willing to show you.

Well, it isn't any better, really, and also displays my messy bedroom. But it is a better shot of the face, anyway. Ugh.

So this is us. We are we, a family.

I have a particular issue I'd like to discuss, but it is way too late in the evening for me to be awake, much less opening a whole new can of worms. The can of worms I have in mind relates to how there is such a diversity of people in my household. More on that later.

humorous

The Crimson Crustacean

Twitch was born on Valentine's Day. I meant to mention it earlier, but got distracted. Didn't actually get a post up yesterday, though I meant to do something. Life happened instead.

So yesterday was Twitch's 17^th birthday. It is tricky celebrating a birthday on a holiday. Valentine's Day is hardly what I consider a true holiday, but that is the way our culture celebrates it. Much was said on other blogs about the crass commercialism of the day. I hold the opinion that it is a sorry excuse to sell flowers, chocolates, and greeting cards. But once again I digress.

Many couples celebrate the day and their warm fuzzy feelings for each other by going out to dinner. Therefore the restaurants are really crowded. In our family we like to celebrate birthdays by taking the honoree to dinner with just his/her mom and dad. But not on Valentine's Day. Not Twitch especially. It just isn't a good mix. So we all decided to take him out to dinner tonight instead of last night. The fact that today was Superman's payday might have had a tiny bit to do with the decision.

As I have mentioned previously, we live in Greenwood, South Carolina. It isn't a big place. It isn't anything like cosmopolitan. Fine dining options are few. Very very few. Twitch chose to dine at Red Lobster. Red Lobster has only been in Greenwood about 10 years. We got an Outback about 5 years ago. Applebee's has been in town for a while longer. It's slim pickin's around here. But our Red Lobster is one of the nicest places to eat in Greenwood. Sad.

While we were waiting to be seated one of the servers came to remove a lobster from the fresh lobster tank behind the hostess stand. As she was pulling it up with that strange fork thing a man in the waiting area said to his son "Look at dat crab! Dat's a big crab. Go lookit 'at big crab." Hello? Red LOBSTER???? Superman and I looked at each other and rolled our eyes.

We were seated before too long and things went swimmingly for a time. The server brought the soup along with the basket of famous greasy salty flavored biscuits. The basket contained 4 biscuits for the 3 of us. Is that right? The guys ordered soup, I didn't. They guys had little soup cups and a plate for a saucer. I didn't. I wanted to eat a biscuit, but not get crumbs on the table. I had my two forks and a knife wrapped in the napkin, my glass of water and a coaster. No bread plate. Superman let me use his plate 'cause he's sweet that way.

When the young man (not very cute; short, square and dopey-looking) brought the appetizers he also brought the bread plates. He set the food before us, then asked if we wanted our appetizer plates now. Oh, please! Of course the bread was gone by then.

By the time our entrees came I was thoroughly disgusted with the restaurant service, the town, and the state we live in.

As we were leaving I saw a fellow sitting with (I assume) his family. He was wearing a baseball cap with a pair of sunglasses above the brim. On a Friday night (i.e. dark), inside one of the nicer restaurants in town. Is this just a southern thing? I ask you, my readers from more sophisticated places than Greenwood SC, do guys in your community wear baseball caps in restaurants that are a bit nicer than fast food? I've seen this often. It disturbs me.

Superman told me to just let it go. Do I have to settle for this? Is this what has happened in all of western culture?

Am I taking this too seriously?

Quote

Evil is like a shadow - it has no real substance of its own, it is simply a lack of light. You cannot cause a shadow to disappear by trying to fight it, stamp on it, by railing against it, or any other form of emotional or physical resistance. In order to cause a shadow to disappear, you must shine light on it. -Shakti Gawain, teacher and author (b. 1948)

The BTs

I love this place. I love the readers who visit me here. I love the bloggers I visit. You all occupy space in my brain at other times besides when I'm in front of the screen. Just this morning as I was driving the bus out into the county I was wondering about a few of my buddies. How is he doing with this or that issue in his life, or how are he and his partner/new boyfriend/latest date getting along?

And when will I have a chance to get online and check on everybody?

I had a little bit of time to blog on Monday, but yesterday was filled with other stuff. Tomorrow I drive a field trip and will be gone all day, so no internet during the day. And of course tomorrow being the 14th, there are a few other obligations I should tend to in the evening.

I've written about it before, and have seen comments about it on many other blogs. This blogging addiction has me by the short hairs. And I love it. But when I'm too busy to blog, I experience a longing for my blog buddies, like I need a fix of blog.

I have the BTs: Bloggirium Tremens.

Three Reasons Why I Blog

It's a meme. I've been tagged by one of my favorite people, one of the first bloggers I encountered when I discovered this crazy community.

There are some rules: (1) list three reasons why I blog, (2) List da rulz, (3) tag three other bloggers. Sounds simple enough.

Reason the first: I discovered blogs in the process of looking for information about homosexuality and the glbt community. The only real contact I had with gays was C and S and Light, all of whom are under 20 years old and recently "out." I wanted a more mature perspective on life from a gay point of view. I don't remember how, exactly, but probably Google sent me to a blog. I wish I could remember which blog I first encountered. But you know how blogs are, with blog rolls and comment links and such. I clicked my way to blogland and discovered exactly what I was looking for and more! Wow, there is so much here! At first I was reading blogs and commenting. I can't keep my mouth shut, y'all. I am not a silent lurker! But in my comments on other blogs I was expressing lots of thoughts, ideas, and emotions that really needed their own forum, not someone else's comment section. So I started my own blog, and here you are.

Reason the second: I have a busy mind. It thinks a lot, some days more than others. There aren't many places in my life right now where I can express my thoughts and opinions. And it helps solidify my thoughts to write them down. I've tried journaling, but I never have stuck with it. This is better, because there is feedback. I'm not just writing into the void, though the internet seems a lot like a void sometimes. If I write in a journal, that's were it is. Just there. But on a blog on the "interweb" it goes anywhere and everywhere. And in this particular blogging community my thoughts are read by people I have come to know through their blogs. We have a common interest, or common concerns, or common something. What is it? Anyway, with all this rambling I've determined I blog because I can express myself freely to this community of friends. And the reason I still blog, or keep blogging, is in part to stay connected to this network of friends. It's a bit scary to admit, but my blog friends have become very very important to me. I get more mental/intellectual stimulation, more positive feedback, more encouragement, more friendliness here than I do in the physical world of my daily existence.

Reason the third: Blogging is a perfect way for me to interact with people. I can have the interaction, yet be alone. Strange, that. I have some trouble being around people. I can't figure out how to say it. I like people in theory, but when actually in a group situation I am uncomfortable. I'm not socially adept, exactly. But people fascinate me, and I like quite a few people. I just don't like to spend lots of time with them, especially more than one or two at a time. I have met a couple of bloggers in person and I loved it! I would like to meet many more, and hope to do that this year. Maybe what I like about this format is that I have more control over my interaction with people. I feel free to be myself on the blogs, less inclined to shy away from expressing my true feelings, thoughts, and ideas. Because of the physical distance I am not as embarrassed about how I may appear to other people. Y'all, sometimes I'm hard to take. I'm kinda different… Here we can get to know each other a little bit, know whether we might be able to sit over a cup of coffee (or a sweet fruity rum drink) without me freaking you out with some of the strange stuff that comes out of my mouth! And if I bug you, or you irritate me, we just don't click the link and everyone is happy.

Now, who to tag… Eenie, meenie, miney, OH! I know…

Gregory from Please Check All That Apply

Lewis from Spirit of Saint Lewis

Steven from Sooo this is me

Three of my favorite fellas.

I'm looking forward to their responses.

Quote

Like cars in amusement parks, our direction is often determined through collisions. -Yahia Lababidi, writer (b. 1973)

Non-brainy

My brain is sick. No, not like THAT! I have a cold or whatever it is, I'm sick, and consequently my brain is sick too. When in this condition, strange things can happen.

I had a strange dream this morning. I dreamt it after I woke up, sort of. Superman tried to wake me up this morning so I could eat breakfast and get to the doctor's office for my 8:15 appointment. He was rubbing my arm and softly saying my name. I tried to sit up and to figure out where I was. I couldn't remember what port I was in today. You know, the whole bedroom moves overnight to a different undisclosed location. I knew for certain that I had an 8:15 appt. at the doc's office, and I knew where the doc's office is, but I wasn't sure where I was and how to get there from here. Or there.

It has been that kind of day.

I did get to the doctor's office on time this morning. As Superman said, the office doesn't open until 8:30. I know. I'm a work-in. That was one of the quickest doctor visits I've ever experienced. The nurse who unlocked the front door to let me in was holding my chart. So I walked through the waiting room right to the exam room. She (the nurse) took my temp and bp and asked about my symptoms. La te da and the same old song. She left the room, saying the doctor would be in shortly. Within about 30 seconds the doctor came in, though not shortly. He's very tall, actually. He asked, I answered; the litany of aches resounded. I told him that my sinuses hurt. He should believe me by now. Or maybe he has a Machiavellian streak. He did the #thump-thump# thing on my right cheek. "Ouch! I told you it hurt!" He didn't thump the other one. He told me I have sinusitis (duh) and wrote a perscription for Augmentin. Then I went to the check-out desk, wrote the nice lady a check while the nice lady wrote me an excuse to stay out of work until Monday. I walked out the door and was in my truck before 8:30. It has taken me longer to write this account than it did to live it. I love that kind of efficiency.

On a related note, though totally unconnected; the doctors' office has recently been expanded and renovated. It looks very nice indeed. There are at least half a dozen new exam rooms and a beautifully big new lab (the old one is now a closet, as it is about that big). The office manager and insurance gladiator each have a new office- with DOORS! I've been to see the doc numerous times over the last 6 months since they moved into the new digs. But I always get the same exam room. Is it possible all the other doors are facades, that there is nothing behind those doors but the empty overgrown field beyond the parking lot? The brain reels with the implications of this trickery. This brain does, anyway. And I've already told you this brain is just not herself tonight.

I have no real idea whether or not I feel better now. I feel icky still, but my head is in such a fog that I can’t qualify my ick. Nor do I wish to, necessarily.

Variation on a theme

And some sexy moves to boot.

Ugh ickity yuck

Well, I'm glad I got home before I got sick. It is hard to travel while one is sick.

When I woke up this morning my ears and throat hurt pretty badly. I've gotten worse as the day progresses. The glands in my neck are swollen and sore, and I'm affraid the ick is trying to move into my lungs. I have an appointment to see the doctor first thing in the morning. I had to call in sick to work. It's been 2 weeks since I last drove my bus. I was looking forward to seeing my troops.

Superman came home for lunch and fixed me some chicken soup. Real homemade chicken soup, y'all! Not soup out of a can. He used canned chicken and canned veggies, but fixed the broth, spiced it up nicely, added veggies and chicken and some egg noodles. He shredded some cheddar cheese on top of the bowl he brought me. Isn't he so sweet!

I've taken a OTC pain reliever and antihistamine. This is that "medicine head" makes-ya-drowsy antihistamine. I'm having trouble concentrating well enough to finish this post. This looks like a good stopping place.

Disappointing photography

I tried to get a photo of this hottie without being too obvious. I thought I had more shots than this, but this is the only one I can find. It isn't a good picture. I need to practice surreptitious photography.

I should also carry my camera more often. I was passing by the pool one afternoon and saw a very sexy stud. Slim, well defined muscles (but not too bulgy) wearing an ultra hot skin-tight swim suit. He was a very pretty picture that I had no way to capture. (photographically, I mean. I could have used a net, I suppose, but he's probably stronger than I am. He wouldn't fit in my suitcase, either.)

Central Florida

isn't the Caribbean. Mama's condo isn't a cruise ship. Mama's kitchen isn't a full service fine dining facility. There is no fully stocked bar with bar tender in Mama's living room. I miss the ship!

This is a picture of what I saw a week ago. That's the bed I slept on this past week. And yes, that's a balcony beside my bed. It was a lovely ship and a wonderful cruise. I'm so glad I went.

Though I had a great time, I missed my blog community very much. I went online a few times while onboard, though I probably shouldn't have, judging from the statement of my account. (oops! Internet access is the single biggest expense, larger than liquor or shopping)

So now we're back from the cruise. The second load of laundry is in the washing machine. Some of my stuff is unpacked, but since I've got to drive back home in a day or two there's really no reason to unpack much. I just need to get things organized and rearranged a little bit.

Time now to go make myself a sandwich. Ugh. Can I remember how? Probably. Will it be as good as those little croissant ham and cheese things they had in the promenade cafe? Probably not.

Groundhog day at sea

So what does one do about groundhog day at sea? Is it seahog day? What the hell is a seahog? I know sea horse. Maybe a giant sea horse peeks his head above water and if he gets splashed by a dolphin we have 6 more weeks of stormy seas. The thing is, though, that it isn't stormy sea season. sea season (he he he) Stormy season runs from June through November in this sector of the globe.

Today is the final day of the cruise. We have to put our luggage in the hallway tonight and vacate the stateroom I think before 8:00 tomorrow morning. We get to go through customs and all that other mess. I'm glad Port Canaveral is only about an hour from Mama's place. It'll take a while to get through all the disembarking proceedure, and by the time we get to Mama's home it will definitely be nap time. And laundry time. I almost have enough underwear to last until then. :-P

More later, probably after we get to Orlando. TTFN

Friday from Sea

Hello from the western Caribbean Sea. We were docked at Cosumel today, which is an island. I didn't know that. I thought it was part of the Mexican mainland. It's close, though. They said about 45 minutes by ferry. I didn't go. Didn't go into Cosumel, didn't go to the mainland. I stayed on the ship and bummed around until nap time. Then I took a nap. I love to nap. I don't know what today's high temp was, but it was in the uncomfortable range. I stayed in the air conditioning. That made me happy.

We are now somewhere in the water between Cosumel and Florida. The ride is rougher than it has been in a few days. We've been island hopping for the last 4 days. We'll sail at night, then dock or moor at a port in the morning. After a day at whatever island, we'll get on to the next destination. The ship has been hugging the islands pretty close so we've not been in really open water since Monday. We'll be at sea all day tomorrow, docking in Port Canaveral on Sunday morning. I like these days at sea. I like to feel the rocking of the ship and love the sound of the water as we rush through it. And we are heading north, so hopefully it'll be a bit cooler again.

I should be able to really check the blogs on Sunday evening or Monday. I'll be driving home I dunno maybe Tuesday. We'll see. I really want to get home to see Superman, but the rest of the experience.... I'm willing to stay on vacation from that mess for another week or two.

That's about all I've got here. It's a lazy life and I'm in that groove.