The last post of 2005

Alrighty, time for a 2005 recap.

Major surgeries: 1
Cars hit by: 1
Relatives lost: 1
Beloved family pets lost: 1
Doomed relationships: 1
Infatuations: 3
Drunk-dialing fiascos: 2
Smoking relapses: 1
Sisters sucked into abusive relationships: 1
Pounds gained: 15

OK, so it wasn't exactly the best year. But a few good things did happen--I got into yet another grad school, met some great people, visited 7 states, started a learning community, maintained awesome friendships, and I'm around to see another year. Things could always be worse. And as I've mentioned, I have extremely high hopes for '06. I might even break my "no New Year's resolutions" resolution and set some goals. I'd like to drop a few pounds, obviously, and give more to charity, and muck out the guestroom, to start. Maybe even pay off a credit card or two.

I've often wondered why people get so excited about New Year's Eve--it's really just another day, and another excuse to get drunk. They've never really offered much appeal for me (well, except for 1999, when the threat of major Y2K technological anarchy spiced things up a bit). But coming out of one of the hardest years of my life, I'm extremely jazzed to see this one come to a close.

I'm in the waning days of my visit to Peacegrrl Manor in Texas, and I think I'm reaching critical mass where my family is concerned, but overall it's been a pretty relaxing couple of weeks. No pagers, voicemails, radios, duty logs, or incident reports. I haven't had a decent night's sleep due to a strange holiday brand of insomnia that even Unisom won't shake, but I'm good. I even squeezed in a visit with Alicia and two days with Vixen, featuring a trip to the beach. I get back to Ohio on Wednesday, and I think by then I will have had my fill of family drama, dog messes, and The Nagging Aunt. Speaking of whom, she just walked in the door, which means it's dinnertime. So I'm out...happy new year to all, and don't party too hard! See you in 2006.

Some stuff I forgot to mention...

First a clarification...my whole rant about sex in that last post wasn't related to the guy I spent the majority of it talking about. That was actually residual frustration from other undefined relationships. Sorry for any confusion.

Also, I forgot to say, for those following along at home, that the friend I was sort of clashing with when I wrote this post and I have made up, and all is well. Which makes me very happy.

Another thing. I'm going to be in Texas from tommorow until January 4th. So if you're in the Lone Star State and you read this, the odds are that you're a good friend of mine who I'd really like to see. If you're going to be within any reasonable distance of Houston during that time, let me know so we can get together.

Okay, I think that's all. I need to go to bed, or pack, or something. I'll do my best to post from home and let you know all about Christmas with the peacegrrl clan.
-pg

Did I miss my cue?

I just had dinner with the guy I've been into all semester. I haven't said much about him lately, I know--partly because there hasn't been a lot of new stuff to report, and partly because I don't want to jinx it. But I'll bring you up to speed. We spend a lot of platonic time together--lunches, dinners, long conversations, etc. According to He's Just Not That Into You, this is "hanging out," and when a lot of it is going on, it's not a good idea to assume that anything's developing. But according to the book of peacegrrl, it certainly feels like barriers are coming down, we're getting comfortable with each other, and some serious flirting is taking place. Not to mention that every minute I spend with this guy leaves me more convinced that he's some kind of incarnation of the man I pray I'll end up with. Not to say that he's The Perfect Guy. But The Perfect Guy for Peacegrrl? It's a possibility. He's smart, is comfortable making fun of me and being made fun of, is motivated, has a good career, an advanced degree, and is extremely laid back. He doesn't put up with bullshit, isn't moody, and likes to talk as much as I do. And of course I'm attracted to him. Getting to know this guy has really been the high point of a few pretty shitty months.

So, getting back to my point. We had dinner tonight, since I'm about to skip town for a few weeks and wanted to say goodbye and give him his Christmas present. And at some point, as it usually seems to do, our conversation turned to relationships. By his own admission, he's a little damaged from his last one, which ended in disaster. The discussion went here and there, and he mentioned that he doesn't feel like he's fully recovered, and he doesn't think he's in a place where he's looking for any kind of romantic relationship. Now, I can take a hint. I don't know if that comment was pointed toward me, but being the person I am, I felt it best to assume that it was. So we continued on with the discussion, and came up with this whole theory of honesty in relationships, and argued about the differences between men and women, blah blah blah. But then we start talking about those undefined relationships between men and women, when neither one of you is really sure of where it's going, but there's definitely possibility. And he says, "a girl would practically have to put it in writing for me to realize that she liked me. I'm not capable of guessing anymore." And I responded with something like, why would she bother, when you just said you weren't interested in a relationship? And he said, well, it's not that I'm not interested, I'm just kind of indifferent. I would need her to spell it out to even be aware of it.

So, here's my thought: was this my cue to be honest? To spell it out? To accept that as an admission that he's not sure where exactly we are, and that if I'm interested, it's time to make a statement to that effect? Of course I wussed out and didn't do it, and eventually the subject sort of faded. And now I'm thinking, shit, was I supposed to do something here? And then, even more complicatedly, after hearing him talk about how screwy he still is over his previous relationship, do I even want to step into that minefield?

Blah. I guess the main point of all of this is, I'm terrified of ending up alone. Yes, 26 is a little young to start worrying about this kind of stuff, but I'm telling you, the biological clock is a very real phenomenon. I'm lonely. I worry that my days of fertility are ticking away. I'm not a super hottie or anything like that. When I meet a guy I'm attracted to, and who seems attracted to me, it's a fairly big deal. My last few relationships have screwed me over, too. Maybe I'm as damaged as he is.

And what is the deal with womens' inability to separate sex and emotion? Guys seem to be able to do it so easily. Maybe we're not supposed to be able to do the same. We're always going to assume that if a guy likes us enough to want to sleep with us, surely he must also like us enough to want to have some kind of emotional connection with us. We can't be casual about it. At least I can't. But that's probably a whole other rant for a whole other day.

Fucking games. Why do we insist on playing them? This guy and I spent about two hours talking about how we didn't like games, and I think we were both perfectly aware that we were right in the middle of one the entire time. Am I going to be like one of the chicks on Sex and the City, doing this shit for another ten years? Blah.
-pg

A happy end to a long semester

I have been awful about keeping this blog updated for the past few months. And I'll tell you why. This semester has been hell. There's no other way to put it. And I hate the idea of putting more depression and sadness out into the world through this blog, so I try not to post unless I have something at least moderately happy or profound to say. Unfortunately, there just hasn't been much good news. Not to mention that my job has sucked up every bit of life that I have left in me after dealing with all of the personal stuff that has wreaked havoc on my nerves since the summer ended.

But I'm updating now, because I miss taking the time to do this, and because people have been riding my ass about it. And because there's a light at the end of the tunnel: the halls close tomorrow. I'm finished with classes for the semester. A four-week vacation looms ahead with the promise of lots of laziness, pathetic American consumerism, and traditional holiday overeating. I can't really say that I'm in the Christmas spirit, but knowing that one of the suckiest years of my life is just about over really does start to bring out a little holiday joy.

I really think 2006 has to be better. We'll have midterm elections in November, during which MAYBE the American people will finally get their asses to the polls and boot out some of the morons in Congress. I'll finally get my master's in August, and hopefully a little raise along with it. And of course there's always the possibilty that love is in store for the Peacegrrl. Maybe that new guy I'm still absolutely GONE over will finally get a clue. Hope springs eternal.

Anyway, now for a few updates. To start, Casey (formerly known as The Guy) came to see me last weekend, which was seriously cool. Not only did I get a replenishment for my good music supply, I also got to spend quality time with one of the nicest guys I know. I honestly felt like even though we hadn't seen each other since last July, we connected like no time had passed. Casey is smart, honest, funny, and a gentleman, which is hard to find these days. And I think he sort of gets me, which is SUPER rare. He's a catch, and I told him so. I will always wonder if the two of us would have any kind of a future if we actually lived in the same zip code and he was as anxious to settle down as I am. Hmm.

Now for a downer. I'm in the middle of an awkward stalemate with one of my good friends, and it's really starting to eat me up. I need to step up and talk it out with him, or I'm going to end up losing him, which I don't want to do. I don't know why I let it get this far out of whack, but it ends tomorrow. I'm going to suck it up, own up to the stupid things I've done and hope that maybe he'll own up to a few himself, and even if he doesn't, we're going to get over it. We have to, because life is too short to piss away friendships over dumb shit.

Whew. I feel a little better just having said that. My friends are one of the only things that have helped me get through these times. I guess one of the things I really want to make sure I do during this season is let them know what they mean to me, and how lost I'd be without them. Just knowing that my buddies here, in Texas, and scattered elsewhere around the planet are thinking of me half as often as I think of them is pretty comforting.

And now it's time for bed. In closing I want to tell everybody to think happy thoughts for my friend Alicia, who's interviewing like crazy for a new job in the wake of a shitty deal from her old one. Hang in there, girlfriend. I've got your back. :-)
-pg

The late November blues

So here we are, at that akward little crevice between Thanksgiving and Christmas, when everyone's shopping like crazy and doing their best to get into the "holiday spirit." I got a few days away from the Ohio blizzard and hung out in the Houston smog, where it was 80 degrees on Thanksgiving, which I think is just plain wierd. Thanksgiving was ok. Lots of turkey and stuffing and family drama, but we survived the first major holiday without Ed without any major mishap. We were aided in great part by the new family pet. Tequila is the craziest looking, cutest dog I've ever seen. She really does have a mohawk, too! She's part Rhodesian Ridgeback. Spirits were so high that we even dragged ourselves out of bed at 4am on Black Friday to go shopping. It was worth it to wander around in Gardenridge Pottery while it was nearly empty, but by the time we got to Kohl's the crowds had arrived and were turning a bit hostile. I think I'll go ahead and avoid that experience in the future.
The really good news is that it's cookie-baking time. I'm getting started this weekend, and the plan, provided that I get enough baking done and actually manage to keep my apartment clean for the next two weeks, is to invite everybody over on the 10th for a cookie party. For some people the holidays are all about tinsle and wreaths, but I'm more into gathering my friends around so we can overdose on sugar and complain about work. I'm really hoping that the smell of warm oatmeal scotchies will help get me a little more into the celebrating mood, because right now things just aren't so hot. I'm exhausted all the time (but I can never sleep), I feel like I'm lagging behind in just about everything, and my self-esteem is really in the dumps. I'm just not keeping it together these days. I'm so damn down that I don't even feel like obsessing about men. I realize that I'm in no way qualified to be a part of a relationship at the present time. I need to get my own act together before I start worrying about anybody else's.
And with that, I'd better roll. One more meeting to go. Leave me some happy thoughts--I miss comments!
-pg

Well, it's officially that time of the year--the snow has been flying since yesterday afternoon. At least it's not sticking to anything. It's seriously gloomy out there, though, which makes it hard to crawl out from under the flannel sheets in the morning. I need to get some of those full-spectrum lightbulbs or something. I think Seasonal Affective Disorder is already setting in. Then again, it's hard to differenciate between my normal crabbiness and crabbiness associated with the loss of daylight savings time. Someone told me yesterday that the last time they saw me NOT in an uptight, worried, or complaining mood was back in June. Am I only seasonally pleasant? Is my job destroying my ability to relax and think happy thoughts? The career-change contemplation continues. It will last at least through December, after which I will return from the holidays refreshed and optimistic, thinking that surely I can handle one more year. I can't decide if I keep doing this because it's my calling or because I'm terrified to do anything else. Is fear the only thing stopping me? Will I end up getting married, staying in this career, settling in and looking back twenty years from now wishing I'd taken a different path?

Aaah, enough career contemplation for now. I think my biggest problem these days is that I'm lonely. Definitely not lonely for friends, because I've been blessed with probably more than I deserve. Just wishing I had a non-platonic guy in my life. My relationship with The Boy was dysfunctional at best, but at least it was a relationship. This is going to sound unforgiveably cheesy, but there are times when everything seems to be falling apart and you just need someone's arms in which to sink. I value my independence and my ability to function as a single woman with a full-time career, and in no way do I think that I'm somehow "less than" because I don't have a man in my life. But that doesn't, not for a second, stop me from wishing that I did. I don't think I was meant to go through my entire life alone. And sometimes it's really hard for me to understand why I've had to face three of the hardest months of my entire life without the comfort of being able to go home to somebody. I'm certain I'll come out from all of this stronger than before. But that doesn't make it any less bittersweet.

Alrighty, end of reflection. Off to go on duty. I'm hoping that the cold weather slows everybody down and it's an unusually quiet Thursday night.
-pg

Neglect...

So I know that I've been lousy about keeping up with the blog lately. I have a few excuses...my computer froze up when I tried to update last week and I lost my post, and I've been too crabby to write much. Plus I fear that my posts aren't very interesting, especially compared with my friends who are off on fabulous adventures, or getting married, or are just way more creative than I am. I think I use the format more for bitching than anything else. Then again, it's my blog and I'll bitch if I want to, right?

Then let's begin. Work...stressful, overwhelming, annoying, and exhausting. I burn out every year right about now, and I'm definitely on schedule. I spend most days racing to keep up with everything I'm expected to do. Of course once again I'm spending a lot of time pondering whether or not this is actually what I want to do with my life. I'm sick of college students...SO sick of them. I don't know that the five-day Thanksgiving break is going to help much. I hope so. This is one of the only things (besides knitting and baking chocolate chip cookies, neither of which is particularly lucrative) that I'm good at. It doesn't help that my entire social circle is tied up in my job, which is probably not the healthiest thing.

Which brings us to my "love life"...which is basically non-existent. Yes, I like a guy. No, I have no idea if the feeling is mutual. And I'm in no mood to risk rejection. For now I've decided that friendship is good enough for the moment, and let's be honest, about all I really have time for. I can't even manage to update my blog and keep my apartment vacuumed. How am I possibly going to be able to maintain some semblance of a relationship?

My nanowrimo project is kind of a bust, because when I actually have a few minutes of downtime, I can't think of anything creative. Maybe I'll have a spurt of inspiration and hammer out another 43,000 words over the weekend, but I'm seriously doubting it. Maybe I should stick to reading novels instead of writing them. Speaking of which, Between A Rock and a Hard Place was awesome. I've moved on to the new Jennifer Weiner book, but I have to say, not too impressed so far. Then again, anything is more interesting than the crap I've been reading for my classes lately.

So okay, happy thoughts. I had a fun weekend, with lots of time with my totally platonic love interest. The Guy (remember last July's quasi-romantic saga?) is supposed to be swinging through town sometime this weekend, which should be fun. Might the Peacegrrl find herself in a compromising position in which she must weigh the ethics of perhaps being presented with the possibility of getting a little action against the fact that she has an enormous crush on someone else? We shall see. I'm headed to Texas for Thanskgiving in a week--yay for turkey, mom, and no work! The first snow is supposed to come this week, which is okay--the first snow is fine. It's all pretty and sparkly and fun for the first twenty-four hours. It's after the forty-fifth snow, when everything's covered in gray slush and the bottoms of all of my pants are eaten away by salt stains, that it really starts to get old. And that's all the good stuff I can come up with for the moment, although I'm sure there's lots more.

That's all for today...I'm off to a meeting and then my workday is officially over. Yay for getting to bed at a decent hour. I promise to post more often, bitching or no bitching.
-pg

The Week So Far

A rundown...

1. I bought the book Between A Rock And A Hard Place on Sunday and it's been practically impossible to put down. Holy crap. This guy's story is unbelievable. The way he describes his completely organic connection with the outdoors, his ascent to absolute despair and his climb out of it...damn, it's good. Favorite line so far: "A crystalline moment shatters and the world is a different place." Totally begs for reflection on my own "crystalline moments", but I don't think any experience I've had can compare with sitting trapped in a canyon for a week with my right arm jammed under a boulder...

2. The CD I can't stop listening to right now: Picaresque, by The Decemberists. The CD I plan to buy next: Elevator, by Hot Hot Heat. So much good music in the world, so little time.

3. My freakin' tooth is killing me. I have the toothache to end all toothaches. It's so bad I don't know if I'm going to make it in to work tommorow. It's getting yanked on Friday, and oh, how THAT thrills me. This hasn't really been my year, medically speaking.

4. My search for a Mature Relationship appears to be at a standstill for the moment. We're stuck. I don't know if this thing is ever going to get moving. I need to work on my patience where love is concerned. Any advice?

5. I've signed up for NaNoWriMo, which is short for "National Novel Writing Month," and it's this big thing where you try to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. This was the kick-off day, and I'm at something like 600 words. I think they're 600 words of crap, and you'll probably never see them (or any that follow), but the point is quantity, not necessarily quantity, and I want to see if I can actually hit the 50,000 goal. Among all of those words, there will hopefully be a few worth keeping and maybe doing something with. As if I really have any time for this...but I don't care--it's fun and if it means I get behind in a few other things, so be it. It's only a month.

6. This is Tequila, the new peacegrrl family pet:

You can see the top of her bizarre, unexplainable mohawk/mullet hairdo in between her ears. How damn CUTE is she?

I guess I'll close with that. It's hard to come up with anything to follow puppy pictures.
-pg

Some Thursday peppiness

Well, today is a better day. It probably shouldn't be--after all, I have a dentist appointment at 4, it's cloudy and freezing outside, and I'm in the midst of that one week a month that all females curse--but I find myself doing ok for a change. I aced a midterm (in a subject I don't even grasp), which is an awesome feeling--I can't believe I'm not flunking out of grad school in the midst of all the crappy stuff happening in my life. Even better, the apple pies that islegavia and I slaved over all day Sunday are a hit. We're quite the pie-baking power team, I tell you. I actually haven't tried any yet--was waiting for i to get back from a family emergency so we could sample them together--but tonight's the night. Mmmm....pie.

Let's see, what else isn't broken in my life right now? Things are improving with my sister--my bro-in-law is in treatment and hopefully sticks it out. At least sis is getting a chance to be on her own and get her head together a little bit. She's staying with peacegrrl mama, which makes me happy--I hate the thought of my ma being on her own so much of the time. There's a new doggie in the pg clan, too, a mutt named Tequila who supposedly has a mullet hairdo. I have yet to see this, but when I do, I'll be sure to post a picture. Speaking of dogs, this woman from a pet therapy they're starting on campus brought a beautiful golden retriever named Jake to our professional development meeting this morning, and I'm telling you, when that dog entered the room, you could literally feel the stress floating away. Dogs for everyone, I say. We're allowed to have cats, but they're snooty and they make me sneeze (no offense to georgia Q, vixen) so I haven't taken advantage of the priveledge.

Anyway, overall life doesn't suck too badly today. Boy stuff seems to be clicking along. The weekend is coming, payday is Monday, and the semester is over halfway finished. It's nice to have a reason to smile.
-pg

Lots of stuff

So I know I've been slacking with the whole blog thing lately, and I'm sorry. But to tell you the truth, it's mainly because I can't find anything happy to write about and I'm tired of being a downer. I think my life is turning into the book of Job or something. Ed died. A week later, my dog died. Three weeks after that, my aunt had a stroke. And now my sister's in this relationship that has turned abusive. What more could happen? I keep saying it can't get any worse, and then it does. I try to have faith, and then everything falls apart and it's hard for me to hang on to any sort of optimism. I'm sick of dealing with one catastrophe after another, and sick of being alone in the midst of all of it. And now I'm starting to sound really whiny, so that's it--end of subject.

I know I haven't gone on in a while about guys, mainly because there have been way more important things to worry about, but rest assured, the peacegrrl manhunt continues. I think some progress has been made. I hope. I'm taking it slow. I think that the whole game we play when we're attracted to somebody is really pretty ridiculous, but I guess that's what separates us from the animals. Since I'm trying to enter the world of the emotionally mature relationship, I'm thinking patience is pretty important. Wish me luck.

So I had this totally fall weekend--I went to the apple orchard with my buddy islegavia and we baked pies all afternoon on Sunday. We were feeling very domestic. The leaves are really changing now, so it was beautiful at the orchard. But today it's feeling a lot more like winter, and we might even get a little snow this week--ick. I'm not ready for six months of darkness yet! I guess it's time to break out the flannel sheets and the long underwear. I feel like a seasoned veteran, having survived one northeast Ohio winter. At least this year I'm prepared for the misery. And it's almost cookie-baking time...mmm. Man, I'm starting to sound like betty crocker. Well, if the way to a guy's heart is through his stomach, hopefully I'll have them chasing me, right?

Right, so there wasn't much of a focus to this entry. Sorry about that. I promise I'll try to stop sounding like Debbie Downer and post more often. Send me some positive energy.
-pg

Confessions

Can't think of anything interesting to write today, so I stole this from bookgerm's live journal.

x your confessions...
[ ] I collect comic books.
[ ] I am keeping a secret from the world
[x] I watch the news
[ ] I own over 5 rap CDs
[ ] I own something from Hot Topic
[x] I like Disney movies Exept for Pocahontas and all those Lion King sequels
[x] I curse regularly
[ ] I've slipped out a "lol" in a real conversation.
[x] I have a job.
[x] I am self conscious
[X] I like to laugh.
[ ] I smoke a pack a day. I don't even smoke one a day anymore! :-)
[x] I have cough drops when I'm not sick. The Ricolla ones are tasty.
[ ] I can't swallow pills.
[ ] I have many scars.
[x] I've been out of this country.
[x] I am really ticklish.
[x] I love chocolate.
[ ] I am comfortable with being me. Only about half of the time
[x] I play computer games/video games when I'm bored "Shapeshifter" on MSN
[x] Gotten lost in the city. Houston
[x] I had a serious surgery.
[ ] I have kissed a stranger.
[x] Hugged a stranger
[x] Been in a fist fight Fourth grade. Tetherball dispute.
[ ] Been arrested
[x] Laughed and had milk/soda come out of your nose.
[ ] Pushed all the buttons on an elevator
[ ] Made out in an elevator.
[x] Swore at your parents.
[x] Kicked a guy where it hurts. Only once, and it was necessary.
[ ] Been skydiving.
[ ] Been bungee jumping.
[x] Broken a bone. My pinkee finger and my tailbone. Ha, I broke my ass!
[ ] Played spin the bottle.
[x] Gotten the chicken pox.
[x] Been fired. Well, sort of. I got offered a job once and then they took it back, does that count?
[x] Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back.
[x] Stole something from your job. Post-it notes...and the occasional non-work-related copy...
[x] Had a crush on a teacher/coach. Mr. Rodgriguez, 7th grade speech...Dr. Sanford, college Moral Issues class...Dr. Young, undergrad advisor
[x] Saw someone/something dying.
[x] Ridden over 400 miles in one day.
[x] Been on a plane.
[ ] Seen the Rocky Horror Picture Show.
[ ] Thrown up in a bar.
[x] Eaten Sushi. Yummy.
[x] Met someone in person from the internet.
[ ] Been to a motocross show.
[ ] Done hard drugs
[ ] Cheated on someone else
*pass this on with your own confessions

Going home

I know I haven't posted in a while...there just hasn't been much interesting to talk about. It's the normal fall routine--work too hard, sleep too little, complain. There haven't been any new developments in my continuing search for a Mature Relationship, either (although hope springs eternal!) I'm about to head home to Texas for a break, so hopefully when I get back I'll have lots more to say. I'm sure it will be an interesting visit--no Ed, no dog, and probably some good old family grieving, but I'm hoping once I see that everyone's doing ok I'll stop feeling so much guilt about being far away and maybe even start sleeping better. Maybe. Anyway, I'll update when I get back...
-pg

Piss.

Well, the euphoria of last Wednesday has definitely given way to serious nastiness. Everything fell apart the next day--the mean parents returned. Work started to suck again. And then, to add insult to injury, my dog died. Today my continued lack of sleep (I wasn't allowed to take a sleeping pill last night thanks to duty), along with an uncool run-in with this mean crazy woman in one of my classes, led to a total breakdown. I walked into my apartment at five today, quietly proceeded to the bedroom, and absolutely dissolved into a pile of tears. It wasn't pretty--you know, that snotty-hiccupy kind of crying that is best reserved for privacy. You know how they say grief knocks you on your ass when you least expect it? Well, I think I got my ass-knocking today. After mopping up what was left of my face, I of course had to pull myself together and arrive at the office for an evening of meetings, which has been fun. I'm sure everyone can see that my face looks like a pillow that has been punched in, but thank goodness they've kindly refrained from mentioning it. That's one good thing about a 24-hour a day job...you can't completely fall apart. You can short-circuit in episodes, but then you need to slap on some concealer and march back into the office to deal with everybody else's life. And I'm glad, truly I am. I can't lose it if I never have a chance to.

Really, I'm ok. Everything is just backing up on me. I hope that once I get home and see my family I'll pull myself together. I hate the drama. I hate feeling like I'm the one to whom all the shitty, quirky stuff happens. And I hate the guilt that comes with feeling like this while knowing how small and inconsequential my little problems really are. I want to wallow, but I'm no good at it. My life doesn't suck bad enough for wallowing. It's just a little rough around the edges at the moment, that's all.

Believe it or not, when I logged into Blogger I was planning to do a rambling post about Philip Seymour Hoffman before I got distracted by how crappy I'm feeling. Did you know that there are no good fan sites about him? Am I the only one in the world who thinks he's adorable? More on that later, though, because my office hours are up and it's time to put on a happy face for my 10pm staff meeting. Seriously, this job doesn't leave nearly enough time for whining.

Damn the Spam

Just wanted to let everybody know that I've turned on word verification for comments, which means that before the blog will publish your comments you'll have to type in a word that appears in a funky little box on your screen. Why have I added this extra step? Because I'm tired of getting comments that link me to websites on how to get rid of my back pain, where to find a better mortage rate, etc. Spam has found the bloggers. Curse the day. Comments are one of the coolest things about the blog, and now they've been perverted. Hopefully this will help without making the process of entering a comment such a pain in the ass that nobody bothers anymore!
-pg

More good stuff

Okay, I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Seriously. Things are going way too well. Maybe it's lack of sleep that's making me so damn peppy...I haven't gotten more than an average of 4-5 hours a night in a while. In any case, the week goes on and every day seems to kick a little more ass than the one before it. First off, I TOTALLY got a raise yesterday!!! Whoo-hoo!!!! Here's to a living wage! Next, my learning community actually has a budget (well, it's really, really small, but it's something...) thanks to our benevolent associate director. Then this morning I went to a post-op followup with my Dr. (who happens to be the coolest ob-gyn EVER, she actually listens to me instead of breezing me in and out of the office in five minutes...) and found out that everything looks good and there's nothing wrong with me that can't be fixed pretty easily. Of course I was so pleased that I had to run to the yarn store and reward myself by spending way too much on this hand-dyed stuff and a new wool-silk blend that I can't wait to get into. I'm such a nerd. And then I had a good meeting, and a quiet afternoon, and tonight is the last night of the week that I have a class or a meeting or office hours after five. Plus two weeks from tommorow I'm going back down to Texas for a few days--I bought the ticket yesterday and actually got a good deal. This is wierd. My life feels like it's coming together. I'm trying not to hold on to the feeling too tightly or it'll whiz right by.

And as for the man stuff...well, something feels like it's happening, I don't know what it is, if anything, and I don't feel like tearing it apart with my over-analyzing and obsessing. Does this mean I'm actually turning into a grownup?

Well, I don't know why things are making sense all of a sudden--maybe it's perspective brought on by large natural disasters and family losses. Maybe I really am turning a corner into adulthood. Or maybe, as was mentioned above, I'm suffering from some kind of euphoric side effect to insomnia. Whatever. It works for me.

A good day

It's happy times in Peacegrrl land today. I know...this is highly unusual. And on a MONDAY, nonetheless. But I just can't be pissy right now. Here's why...first, my family escaped Rita without even a power outage. The worst result of the storm for peacegrrl mama was that she said she'd been eating chicken for six days (apparently that's what they stocked up on...), was sick of chicken, never wanted to see chicken again, but the only restaurant or store open within ten miles was Luther's, at which there was a 45-minute line, which she stood in, and then proceeded to buy $65 worth of barbeque. That's my family for you--forget all the other worries of the world. We draw the line when it comes to food! :-)

Second, I had a good weekend. A really good one. That's all I'll say. If you're dying for details, e-mail me

Finally, I came into my office this afternoon and did not have a single nasty message on my voicemail from a student (or worse, a parent) wanting a room change. This is a rare, happy occasion. I have learned to curse the red "you have mail" light on my office phone.

It's also fall, which is my favorite season. Any morning now, I'll wake up and go outside, and the air outside will have changed to cool, and then the leaves will turn, and them somebody will burn them in their yard and the air will have that great autumn smell. I guess fall is all about endings--the end of warm weather, summer, the growing season--but I always feel optimistic during September and October. Fall in Ohio is a different world for me. Texas has its own version of fall, maybe not as spectacular as in other places, but we get the cooler days, the smells, and in some spots even the changing leaves. But up here the trees just totally glow before their leaves fall away. The salt bins start appearing all over campus. I can break out the scarf stash. And I relish ever minute of sunlight before the gloomy winter rolls in.

I know, I'm being a little over-poetic. I can't help it...I'm happy. Or I feel like I'm on the way to happy. The best thing about a new beginning is that there's no guarantee of how it will turn out...and although you can assume the worst, which is what I'm occasionally prone to do, you can also assume the best. And then enjoy the ride. That's what my mom and Ed did from the beginning. I feel very compelled to follow their example.
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!!!!!

I honestly can't believe it. Is God trying to tell us something? Is global warming really THAT out of control? What the hell is happening? I could go on and on about the bigger issues at hand--the thousands of evacuees that found refuge in Houston, who probably feel like the hurricanes are chasing them...the craziness on I-45...the repeat flooding in the Ninth Ward of New Orleans that seems bent on wiping the neighborhood off the map. But what I'm really worried about right now is my own family. They haven't even had a chance to start grieving the loss of Ed, and suddenly they're having to board up windows, buy supplies (ha! Between the price gouging and the mass chaos, they were lucky to gather up the bare necessities this week!), plan for a power outage (my mother is an insulin-dependant diabetic, so she's trying to stock up on ice) and get ready to sit through Rita. At least they're far enough inland that they didn't get evacuated, but having survived the Houston flood of 2001, I'm incredibly nervous. Once again, I feel totally helpless from a thousand miles away. Why is all of this happening? Will life ever be normal again? I'm starting to have my doubts.

At least it makes the petty little problems of my life seem a bit less important. The ramblings about my angst over changing friendships and stupid boy problems seem kind of silly right now. I've never spent so much time counting my blessings and feeling gratitude for the amount of support the people of my life have provided to me in the last few hellish weeks. In the grand scheme of things, my life is good. Really good. It's time to seriously dial back the sarcasm and pessimism. At least for a few weeks, anyway.

In the midst of all of the crap going on, unbelievably, my love life seems to be progressing. I think. I'm not sure. I'm leaning on the wisdom I gleaned from He's Just Not That Into You, and trying not to get too excited. But he really, really seems interested. A pseudo-date is in the works for this weekend. Am I finally headed for a real relationship? Better not get my hopes up...well, maybe a little is ok.

It's Friday, the first Friday in three weeks that I'm not either at home or taking narcotic pain relievers. I'm hoping there's a little relaxation involved, but I think I'm probably going to spend most of it glued to the weather channel and waiting to hear from my mom. Let's hope that Monday doesn't bring reports of the same kind of misery we saw four weeks ago.
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Peace, finally.

Goodbye, Ed...and thanks for the love and blessings that you brought into my life. I will never, ever, forget you.
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Holy crap

OK, I honestly don't think things could get any crazier in my world. Last week I had to go flying down to Texas because things are NOT good at home. Ed is slipping away from us way faster than we expected, so I needed to be with the family. And then I turned around and came back to the worst damn roommate conflict I've ever seen and a stack of incident reports for drunk residents, and tommorow I go in for surgery. Shit! It's too much! I feel like I'm being pulled in four hundred different directions! I'm almost looking forward to surgery. Nobody can call me, page me, or bug me for at least a few hours. Seriously, though, I feel absolutely no equilibrium. I know that this, too, shall pass, but I honestly feel like I'm about to explode.

I don' t have much time to write, but I wanted to update with the latest. Things with the Peacegrrl are beyond chaotic right now. There are a few good things happening...I'm totally gone over this new guy, which is always a diversion...my staff is fantastic...my buildings are still standing and my learning community is intact and going pretty well. And last week during my emergency visit home, I got to see an old friend from college--he was part of yet another pg saga, but it's all ancient history and it was good to catch up. The new issue of Knitty is up, too, which is fun times. See, I'm working on the whole "positive outlook" thing. I think sometimes islegavia wants to pop me upside the head because of my negativity...I'm so blessed to have friends and family who put up with me. I need to do more to let them know how much I love and appreciate them.

It's time to bail...I can't have anything to eat or drink after midnight, so I'd better grab something while I still can. Don't worry, I'll update again soon. I'm due for a nice long post on the mysteries of the men in my life...
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p.s. If you do the prayer thing, throw in a word or two for Ed and mama peacegrrl...things are a little rough right now. Thanks...

Perspectives

I have a knack for seeing the "downer" in just about anything. I'm also pretty good at finding people and entities to lash out at when something's happening that I can't explain or understand. My last post came from that place. The truth is, I'm still disheartened and disappointed with the lack of preparation for something we should have expected. But I needed to hear good news, and I thank Vixen and CL for reminding me that all is not lost. My home state is opening its arms like never before. (Although I just heard on the news that Gov. Rick Perry wants to start turning people away because Texas is becoming too strained. For the love. It takes three days just to drive across the damn state. I don't think it's going to burst at the seams anytime soon...but look at me, bitching again. I digress.) I'm pretty proud to be a Texan at the current moment. I wish I could drop everything and head home, be with my family, and give my time to the people who seem to need more help than even my students right now.

I can't go anywhere, though, so I'm trying to round up a shipment of clothing, since I read online that the City Waste Management services are taking it to donate to the different shelters around the city. And I'm taking stock. Why is it that disasters are needed in order for people to figure out what's important to them? When things are going well, we get mired in the mundane and find little things to worry and complain about. It takes a shakeup of Biblical proportions to help us remember to treat each other well, to relish our time on earth. It seems blasphemous to imagine any good coming out of this terrible time, but if we emerge on the other side of this nightmare to be a more humane society, even to the tiniest degree...well, that would be something.
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Broken hearted

I am disillusioned by what is happening in my country.

It was easy for us to rally together as a nation after September 11. We were united against a common enemy. People of all colors, creeds, and socio-economic status were affected. We didn't dare criticize our government, at least not during those first hours. We were unprepared, yes, but we pulled ourselves together and by a day or two after the attacks, there was a sense of control. We were still terrified, but we were cleaning up.

Three days after New Orleans fell apart, we're hearing about a city in complete chaos. Trucks are driving right by people in need. Aid isn't making it to where it's most critical. One day the police are ignorning looters so they can rescue the living; the next day they're told to abandon the rescue efforts and go after the criminals. Buses are taking people to Houston and San Antonio, but they aren't telling their passengers where they're headed. These people don't have television sets. They aren't watching MSNBC as events unfold. Somebody tells them to get on a bus, and they do it--with no idea when they'll be back, when they'll see the rest of their families again. FEMA goes on and on about how it's doing the best it can, but the reality is that there was absolutely no preparation, no game plan, no idea of what to do. It's not as though the idea of a major hurricane hitting New Orleans was out of the question. The city is below sea level, and it's on the gulf coast. How hard is it to put two and two together? Why hasn't our government bothered to prepare for something that we always knew was coming?

And what makes me even sicker is the fact that this disaster didn't affect all people equally. Some were able to get out--to pack up their valuables, gather up their families, load into their SUVs and head for hotels and relatives out of harm's way. But the poor, the folks without cars, without the money to buy gas, without anyplace to go--they're the ones stuck in the Superdome, stuck on the side of the highway surrounded by the dead and dying, stuck in the Convention Center watching the National Guard trucks drive right by. They couldn't leave. They didn't have a choice. And now as a country we seem to have absolutely no idea what to do with them.

This morning the Congressional Black Caucus held a press conference and expressed a harsh reality: there's no denying the reality that many, if not most, of the poor and suffering in New Orleans are people of color. They were in dire straights before Katrina even existed, and now they have nothing left, and no assurance that help is on the way. I am relieved to hear Bush say that the relief efforts thus far are "unacceptable," but that's not enough. There is no excuse for a country as rich as the United States to leave thousands of its citizens without food, water, hygiene, and shelter. Somebody needs to get control and make something happen.

Like most people, I've always had faith in my country. I always believed that no matter what bad things happened, we'd be taken care of. The goodness of human nature would prevail, and the resources of my government would come to my aid. Weren't we raised to believe that "the US is the best country in the world?"

Today that faith is shaken to the core.

Why?

Would somebody PLEASE explain the popped collar thing to me? They're all over campus. When did a too-tight polyester polo with a flipped-up collar suddenly become "cool"?

Too old.

Last night I consumed a few too many alcoholic beverages. Seeing as my body was already completely exhausted from seven straight 10+ hour workdays, no decent or nutritionally sound meals in over a week, and sleep deprivation due to the non-stop arrival of first-year students, I'm thinking it was a bad idea. Today I feel disoriented, used-up, and ancient. And since I turn into an even worse bigmouth when I've been drinking, stupid things were indeed said. I'm too old to do this crap anymore. I remember being able to party five nights a week and still make it to class, and I think, who the hell was that person? It's time to be a grownup.

I'm pissy today because I feel like the fragile web of friendship that I'm a part of has been threatened. I've never been all that good with change--I'm better at it than most people, but that's not saying much. And changes in relationships are much harder for me to handle than, say, changes in location, or stuff at work. I can bear all of that as long as I feel secure in my network of friends. So when I feel the tides start turning and there's even the slightest hint that something might fray out the delicate threads that bind me to the people I care about, I freak out and make a big deal out of nothing. When am I going to learn that life is just a series of shifting relationships?

Grrr, too much seriousness! Today's a good day--the sun is shining and everything's cool. There's no reason to let a hangover ruin the waning hours of my weekend! I'm off to search for happy thoughts.
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Settling In

Well, here it goes: Year # 2 in Northeast Ohio. It's been a whacked-out couple of weeks, with pretty much non-stop work, and I know it's only going to get worse. The good news is that amidst all the chaos, I've managed to spend quality time with my friends and keep up the steady stream of pessimistic humor that I'm known for. I'm jealous of the fabulous vacations that everyone's got under their belt--the mountains, NYC, Key West--while I boast of the quality time I spent in scenic North Dakota and rural Virginia...next summer I really do need to save some cash and hit someplace like Las Vegas. Or maybe I'll finally do that backpacking trip through Montana that I've been talking about since 1998. Right now, though, is no time to be thinking about vacations. Classes start on Monday, and I'm coordinating this very interesting thing called a learning community, so my life is about to turn into more of a swirling mass of activity than ever. I'm oddly excited about the impending stress. As always, I seem to work best when the pressure's on, the ulcer is flaring up, and sleep is at a premium. Plus it gives me less time to obsess over the opposite sex...

So speaking of which, I'm not sure where things are going with the new dude. I'm definitely into him--I've healed from the final Boy drama, and I feel good about moving on. And I'm convinced that this guy is totally perfect for me. He's out of his 20s, done with the whole party-obsession phase, settled into a good job, and has this laid-back attitude that I envy. Plus, he's tall, cute, and has a great sense of humor. I feel like he might be into me too, but it's hard to tell--maybe he's just one of those really nice guys? Whenever I talk to him, I feel like we're the only ones in the room. And those of you who know me are well aware of how I generally become an absolute babbling moron in the presence of guys I like, right? Not with this one. I swear, I'm actually comfortable around him. Is it a sign? Am I imagining all of this? Holy crap, I'm so sick of this demented game. Send me some happy vibes, everybody! I think the time may have come for the peacegrrl to enter the world of the emotionally mature relationship...

Anyway, that's just about all I have to report for now. I'm about to start my regular schedule of endless hours in the office, so I'm sure I'll be posting a lot more in the next couple of weeks. For now, though, it's time to grab some food, and then I'm off to a Colin Hay concert tonight. More soon!
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Exhaustion

OK, it's been over a month since I posted, and I'm sending out apologies to anybody who was wondering if I'm still alive. The last few weeks have been...challenging. The slow pace of the summer is over for me, and I can't seem to clear the cobwebs out of my brain and get rolling again. There are so many things that I've left undone that I hardly know where to begin. It feels like a train came by to pick me up for a trip that I hadn't even packed for yet. And here I am, rolling along at breakneck speed like I do every August, figuring that I'll find myself again when December rolls around and the wheels finally grind to a temporary halt.

I feel kind of obligated to give some updates, so here goes: visit with father...done, and with no major mishaps or politically-charged arguments. Assload of work to get ready for new learning community...check. It may even end up being successful. Relationship issues...resolved, to an extent. I visited The Boy and got some closure...for now, anyway. Let's face it. The Boy is a saga, and who knows if it'll ever truly be over. Suffice to say that the timing is wrong, the maturity levels aren't aligning, and I'm still convinced that there's a guy out there who will treat me with a little more respect and sensitivity. For now, and maybe forever, The Boy isn't that guy. So let's just say that the major chapters are pretty much completed as far as we're concerned. And that's about the sum total of my summer accomplishments. Not too shabby, I suppose, considering I could have spent it

Life is going to get fairly insane sometime in the next few weeks--the students are coming back, I'm carrying a huge workload, and I've got two more classes on my plate for the fall. Barring a nervous breakdown, I'm really hoping that I'll do some growing over the next few months. Feels kinda like another famous Peacegrrl turning point. And, of course, there's a new guy. Is this just the latest in a string of busts? Or could this one be The Man? It's way too earlier for any of that. I'm a rebounder at the moment, let's not forget. And before I start launching into super-crush-mode, it might be useful to attempt to determine whether or not the attraction is mutual (or, at the very least, confirm that he's actually aware that I exist).

Right now I'm exhausted beyond reason, so that's all for this post. But I promise to come back again sooner. I'm done with my summer hiatus and will once again spew forth my babbles for all to see!!!

Just a quickie...

Just putting in a quick plug for ALS research and awareness before I head out tommorow. If you've been following the fledgling scarf project and want to know more about Lou Gherig's Disease and what you can do to help, click here: http://www.mdausa.org Thanks! And if you're interested in ordering a scarf, just let me know! :-)
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The summer rages on...

So I guess I've gotten into a once-a-week posting habit. If I had anything witty or insightful to say, I'd post more often, but unfortunately the lack of interaction with students and the break from classes has turned my brain into mush. Occasionally something comes along to stimulate it...but it's usually bad news.

I woke up yesterday morning to the tragedy in London. One minute the spotlight is on Africa, and on maybe finally making some changes in this terribly uneven world...and the next we're lamenting the loss of innocent people and talking about the war on terror again. I'm sickened by all of it. I don't understand the human bloodlust that leads us to think that we can solve our problems and make things right by killing each other. Doesn't God get sick of hearing his name invoked for the sake of murder? When are we finally going to say enough is enough? Or will we not have our appetites for mass destruction sated until we've completely destroyed each other, and the planet along with us? I'm still young and idealistic enough to believe that there's no justification for killing people. The lives of fifty Londoners aren't any more valuable than the lives of a few thousand Iraqi civilians who got in the way of our coalition, are they? It's awful and wrong and devastating when people kill each other--no matter why.

I've got to stop thinking so much about stuff like this. I need to focus on the problems of my own little life instead of lecturing about global issues that I don't even understand. So let's change the subject. The big father-daughter reunion is coming up in a few days, and I'm kind of excited, though characteristically dubious and pessimistic. Stuff with The Boy is going pretty well. My cable is back on...but wouldn't you know it, my thirteen-year-old TV broke, so I'm stuck squinting at my 12-incher until I can save enough money to buy a new one. If it's not one thing, it's another.

And I think I have a name for the scarf project,thanks to Lauren who talked to an old friend who I thought hated me...maybe not? We're thinking "That's A Wrap!" How's that? Good? Bad? I've been knitting away during these summer months, so we even have a small inventory. I kind of wish I could do socks, because I had this idea to call it "Sock it to ALS!", but unfortunately, while I can handle scarves, hats, and ipod covers, the sock continues to elude me. Anyway, feedback on the name would be helpful, but you're not allowed to say you hate it unless you can think of something better. Is that fair?

Alrighty, well, I guess if I'm planning to take a week off, I should at least pretend to get a little work done before I go. So that's all for today...forgive the brief peacegrrl hiatus, but I don't want to blog from the padre's computer and have him stumble across it and decide he has an evil uber-left-wing commie for a daughter, leading him to withdraw all parental support. He drives me nuts, but I do love him and feel it best to spare him from my bleeding-heart rhetoric. He's getting old, and I don't know if he could take it...
Back soon!
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Not much to say

So haven't posted in a while, for the simple reason that I'm too pissy for the blog these days. I mean, I know negativity is sort of my trademark, but there comes a point where even I get tired of my own complaining. Plus, really, things aren't that bad, I'm just bored. And kinda bummed because numerous attempts to get together for a visit with The Boy have been failures, and I feel like we're at something of a stalemate. There's really not much to be done, other than just wait and see how it plays out, and we all know how lousy I am at waiting...

Well, the monotony will be broken up a bit next weekend, since I'm heading to Virginia to spend "quality time" with my father and stepmother. Our visits are always an exercise in caution and restraint. Since our relationship is pretty fragile (see this post for a recap), we spend most of the time jetting around sightseeing, and he spoils me something awful. Overall it's not too bad. It only gets wierd when we're eating dinner and he insists on watching Fox News and trying to bait me. Or when we're taking a long drive and he starts rambling on about affirmative action and Southern pride. Then I end up biting my tongue so hard that it bleeds, trying to keep my comments to myself and preserve the thin ties that bind us. At least it's not an election year...the last visit was especially painful. But every year I get a little more mature and better able to pick my battles. This time we're driving up to Baltimore and visiting my grandmother, and I'll get to watch the two of them snip at each other for a few days. There's nothing more uncomfortable than watching two family members you don't know very well argue about where to go for lunch. These heated debates can last all afternoon, so this time I'll be prepared with a Zone bar in my purse in case we don't end up eating until four.

This post is pretty weak, I know it. I seem to be fresh out of witty comments, and even my usually amusing "personal life" is mired in uninteresting details. Forgive me, I promise I'll try to be more interesting next time!
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Why do I care?

Most people who I'm close to (and a few that I'm not) are pretty well aware of my political views. Why? Because I can't seem to shut up about them. Whenever somebody in Washington does something idiotic, I seem to go a little crazy. I've probably written a letter to my congressional representatives once a week for the last six months (Tim Ryan always replies, too. He probably thinks I'm a stalker.), and during the lead-up and beginning months of the Iraq war Bush apparently felt I'd exceeded my quota for presidential letters (I started getting responses from one of his senior assistants instead). If there's a progressive rally or march within 50 miles, I'm bugging somebody to come along with me. I can't watch "Scarborough Country" because I'm too tempted to throw something at the TV. If I'm home or visiting my father and somebody feels the need to watch "The O'Reilly Factor," I literally have to leave the house.

Today I'm sitting at my desk stewing over Karl Rove's latest comments, which provide further proof that he's an idiot. I'm so pissed off about it that I can't even focus on my work. It's pathetic, how much misguided passion I pour into political issues when I can't even get my own life in order. So it's gotten me thinking, what's the point? Wouldn't I'd be happy if I were completely apathetic? I mean, is Bush (or Ryan, or Powell, or whoever I've written to lately) going to do a single thing any differently just because I've spewed my bleeding-heart rhetoric into a letter that he never reads? There are millions of Americans who don't give a flip about politics, and they probably sleep a lot better than I do. Why put so much energy into keeping up with something that seems so pointless?

But I know I'll never change. I pay too much attention to what's happening around me, and I can't dismiss the facts--my sister struggling to live without affordable health insurance; Ed's health failing and the hopelessness of thousands of ALS, Alzheimer's, and Parkinson's Disease sufferers who will continue to exist without the possibility of a cure because our government doesn't support stem-cell research; the orange-grey cloud of pollution that hangs over Houston; the ghost towns all over Ohio and the Midwest that have all but shut down thanks to outsourcing, unemployment, and the Walmart-ization of American commerce. I want to sigh and think, oh well, we're all on our own in this country, and we have to do the best we can. But I can't do it! I can't be okay with knowing that the resources exist to completely eliminate world poverty, and yet it's like pulling teeth to get the G8 to forgive the debt in some of the world's poorest countries.

I hate how self-righteous I probably sound, because it's not like I have any real answers. Like I said, I can't even manage the complications of my own relationships, let alone the massive debacles of world affairs. In the tradition of all great gen-X-ers, I blame my parents for my unreasonable zeal. They made me follow this rule from the time I was old enough to bitch out loud: "never complain unless you're willing to take action." It stuck, curse them. I'd love to be apathetic. Really, I would. But I can't do it. Bleh.

Just a few things

Okay, so to start off, I've replaced my blog profile picture and brought back the one with the beer. I admit it, I made a change, and it just didn't go over. The thing with the blog pic is that it's important to me that it's not a terribly recognizable shot. Granted, I've given WAY too many friends this URL so a lot of people know the peacegrrl behind the blog, but I don't want random folks--say, some moron I went to high school with, or a resident--to stumble upon this site and use the information about failed affairs, my personal vulnerabilities, etc. (that I so carelessly thrust out into the public domain) to ruin me. The beer pic is a favorite of mine, but unfortunately I made an error in judgement and put it up on my facebook page (facebook is this interesting quasi-blog thing all the college kids are doing, and I got shamefully sucked into it) without giving it a second thought. Unfortunately, those above me thought that a person in my professional position might be sending off the wrong message by publicizing a picture of myself gleefully indulging in a mug of Dundee's Honey Brown (my fave, by the way). And then I got to thinking, wow, maybe the beer picture is making me look like some sad party girl alcoholic. Therefore, fearful that the combination of the beer pic and some of the stupid shit I ramble about would send an unmistakable "lush" vibe, I decided to replace it with what will hereafter be referred to as the napkin shot. Taken in context, it's a pretty funny picture (not knowing that j-dog was taking a picture, I was asking a friend if I had anything in my teeth), and it meets the "fairly unrecognizable" prerequisite. But taken out of context, I just look like a moron hiding behind a napkin. Nobody likes the napkin shot. Two people have described it as "kinda wierd,"and today I returned to my computer and checked my IM messages recieved while away, only to find an note from The Guy that said very simply, "I really hate your new blogspot photo." Well, that did it. Is the napkin shot really the image I want imbedded in the minds of my reading public? And what if The Guy completely forgets what I look like, and all he has for reference is a tiny mug of me making a strange expression next to a napkin? I'm vain, and the bottom line is that I look good in the beer pic, so it's back up, and there it will stay.

On to the next thing. I'm reading a new book, and it's the wittiest, painfully dead-on reflection of gen-X pop culture that I've ever read. The book is Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs: A Low Culture Manifesto , by Chuck Klosterman. I definitely don't agree with everything in it (especially Klosterman's views on country music, John Cusack, and Coldplay), but most of the time the author is almost disturbingly (and definitely embarassingly) dead on. Most regular readers of this blog know that I am in the midst of the search for my soul mate; I'm convinced that a guy who reads this book and finds it half as amusing and observant as I do is probably a contender for the title. Just thought I'd throw that out there.

I still, still don't have cable, and I'm running out of creative things to do. The fourth season of Six Feet Under isn't on DVD yet. I'm so bored that I've started looking forward to working out and taking two-mile walks around campus. I have the NPR afternoon schedules of both the local and San Antonio affiliates memorized, and I caught myself humming along to the damn theme music of "All Things Considered" yesterday. This is not normal! Give me back my Law and Order and Talk Sex and my A Different World reruns! Maybe this is God's way of ensuring that I come out of this summer with a great tan, a smaller ass, and a more informed worldview. I just need to see the higher purpose.

There are other irritations, like the fact that it looks like The Boy and I aren't going to be able to orchestrate getting together anytime before September. Are the fates working against us? I'm trying not to dwell. Really, when I think about my short little life, this is one of the better summers. I've survived joblessness, an evil boss from hell, parental splitups, and pitiful boyfriend-dating-friend sagas in Junes and Julys past. Lack of cable and a fledgling quasi-relationship? This isn't so bad. I will persevere.

An old story

I knew a guy once, I guess I still know sort of know him, who liked Tequiza--you know, that tequila-and-lime flavored beer that Anheuser-Busch puts out. He liked Tequiza, and Corona, and Dos Aquis. This guy was one piece of work. Tall, and so good looking that it was almost surreal. He was the Cool Dude. The one who talked to everybody, even the unpopular folks. Who could do anything. Win anyone over. The Cool Dude knew more about music than me, which is pretty impressive. And when he would talk to you, you really felt like the only person in the entire world. He'd fix you with these beautiful eyes, his tall, tanned body towering over you, and you felt empowered and protected and fascinating, as though whatever you were saying had meaning only he could understand.
Obviously, like everyone else--men and women alike--I was in awe of the CD. We shared a love for the beach and deep John Mayer lyrics, a common hatred of our jobs, and, one night, a bottle of tequila and an impromptu "I know more songs than you do" singing match in the hot tub at a beach resort that probably almost got us thrown out of the place. I was way, way too smart to actually fall for him, though. Guys like the CD end up with beautiful blonde women, girls who are as amazing to look at as they are. It's just the way of things. The Cool Dude took over a room the instant he walked into it, bringing light into the absolute dullest of situations. An ordinary girl just couldn't hold her own next to him. So it would be absolute folly for me, a girl about as ordinary as they come (in looks, anyway) to even waste the energy.
But of course I shared the common infatuation with him...and then, eventually, became enamored with the idea that he needed saving. He had a broken heart--some girl had all but done him in. The more time I spent with the CD, absorbing his dynamic personality and his jokes that always made the right people laugh, the more I felt this enormously sad emptiness coming out of him. He was surrounded by people at work, at home, and his cell phone rang constantly. And yet he was so unhappy. Once you got used to the glaring light that he gave off, you could see it in his eyes. And you could read it in the way he drank (all the time, and he could put it away like no one I've ever met), the way he talked a mile a minute, the way he clung to people. Everyone always assumed that people were clinging to him, but I don't think that's the whole truth. I think he filled every space in his life with people, hoping maybe they'd fill the hole that girl had left. I knew something about that kind of emptiness. It got to be too hard to hang out with him, this gorgeous guy who I really just wanted to comfort in some small way. One night we both had an obscene amount of alcohol at the bar down the street, and I guess all that shared sadness and empathy backed up on me. We got back to his place and he threw up, while I sat and sobbed ( I have a terrible habit of doing that in lieu of the classic vomiting routine when I've had too much to drink) and said God knows what. For all I know I confessed my undying devotion to him. It was never the same between us after that night.

It wasn't hard for us to grow apart--his life is full of people, and I was just one more, and not one that he felt any responsibility to keep up with. And it cuts both ways; I never really bother to stay in touch. But I think about him when I'm feeling too ordinary or inadequate or ugly or whatever. I remember that emptiness, that sadness that he carried around. Someone like that--so perfect to look at, so adored, and so utterly fucked up. It's a humanizing reminder that nobody's perfect. I guess he's on my mind tonight because I'm drinking a bottle of Tequiza (don't make fun of me) and feeling cranky and confused about love and The Boy and my place in the world. I wonder what he's up to these days.

Tedium

I haven't posted in a while. This seems a little odd to me--work is slow, I'm taking a break from classes, and I have free time all over the place, so one would think I'd be blogging like crazy. But the truth is that I just haven't felt very inspired. My life is in the midst of a sort of stalemate at the moment. People are out of town--doing summer vacation stuff, or at new jobs, or just relishing the freedom of eight weeks away from the campus. I didn't opt to bail for the summer. It's partly because I wanted to work and save some extra money, and partly because I didn't want to face the misery of Texas in the summer, but that's not all of it. I know that a big reason I stuck around up here was to avoid the stress of home--illness, the maze of boxes that our house has become as everyone gets ready to move to Houston next month, my aunt's never-ending monologues, and the constant worry and overcrowding that always comes with a visit home. My family and I are connected by a steel-strong web of love and support, but I know that I don't have to be home to be a part of that. And yet here I am, moping about being up here while everybody is elsewhere.

I swear, a lot of this comes from the fact that I don' t have TV or men to use as a numbing salve against boredom and too much thinking. Every summer my life slows down almost to a standstill, and I get by pretty easily because it's Six Feet Under time, or I'm lusting after or dating somebody. Last summer I had plenty of diversions to keep me busy--packing for the migration to Ohio, being mad at The Boy, having fun with The Guy. This summer I don't have a short-lived infatuation to obsess over or a broken heart to rehabilitate. In the absence of conflict, I just feel restless. There's no sexual tension, no rage, no big work crisis or illicit affair to worry about. Does that say something about human nature? In all those damn theatre classes I took in college (before I got wise and switched to an English major) we went on and on about how "conflict" is the center of any good scene. Somebody has to want something from somebody else, or it doesn't work. And look at me now--I'm getting along with everybody, and I just feel like shit!

Father's Day is probably a part of it. I hate it. I haven't done Father's Day in six years. My stepdad is gone, and my real father is a good guy, but I don't have that father-daughter thing with him. He wasn't a part of my life until I was already 20 and the hard growing-up stuff was over. I think I subconciously think of him as an uncle or something. And our politics and values clash so badly that they're a huge sinkhole in an already delicate relationship. Every mid-June I feel guilty because I don't send a card, but I just can't do it. It would feel contrived and artificial and wrong. And maybe it would bring him some sense of deep satisfaction, but I don't know that I've decided he deserves that from me. Am I being hateful and selfish? Probably.

Geez, look at me overanalyzing everything. Forgive this morose post. Thank God summer only lasts for two months, and then I can get back to good old-fashioned work-related bitching.

What exactly do people without cable do?

So yes, I like to be smug and talk about the decline of modern television and how it's all crap, with a few notable exceptions. But let's face it--the idiot box is just about always on. I'm not even watching it half the time. I just like the noise. It serves as a nice, steady connection with the outside world. And there's always The Daily Show and reruns of The West Wing, plus the fact that TNT shows The Breakfast Club just about every weekend. So the last few weeks have not been good. My cable is broken. Some vital piece of fiber-optic technology has become defective, and thus been shipped off to the manufacturer for repair. No one seems to know when it will be back on. I held out hope while I was away in Texas that maybe I'd return to the bliss of sixty-five channels, but alas, it was not to be. Ordinarily I'd escape, go out and shop or read at Borders or hang out with my friends, but I'm sick with this disgusting cough, my second case of bronchitis in the last six months, and I feel too shitty to go anywhere. This sucks! I tried to be optimistic by using the experience as an excuse to catch up on my video-watching, but after five hours of Six Feet Under, along with a few shots of cough medicine, I'm starting to feel way too morose. I long for a few hours of good channel surfing. I'm not ashamed of my dependence on my TV! I grew up in the generation of Family Ties and The Cosby Show, for crying out loud! I need the stuff like I need AIR!

Enough. I haven't posted in two weeks, and there's plenty more interesting to talk about than my lack of media sustenance. So for those of you who've been holding your breath...yes, The Boy did show up on my doorstep as promised. Contrary to all of my disbelief and pessimism. He does, indeed, seem to be pretty different compared with the the person I said goodbye to last summer. And he seems intent on starting over, or making things right, or something like that. I want to believe that it's possible, and at the same time I know how jaded I am after all the games and bullshit. So all I can do is hang out and see what happens, take it as it comes, and try not to worry so much about it. I got some answers, and I think they were the ones I was hoping for. That's a start.

Blah...love, I tell you, what a mess. With all of the walls we put up, and the lies we tell, and games we play, it's amazing that two people are ever able to plow through all of that and really, truly love each other. I give props to all of the people in my life who've managed to find each other and are making it work every day--including the vixen, Alicia, my sister, and Mama Peacegrrl--she and Ed tied the knot on June first. You guys inspire me to believe that it's okay to open up, and to put away the cynicism and actually trust another person with my heart. And mom most of all, who constantly reminds me in word and deed that amazing things happen to those who are patient and believe that miracles actually happen.

That's enough sap for a Saturday night, don't you think? I'll be back in a few days, with some more recaps and an update on the Scarves for ALS project (somebody HELP, we need a better NAME!) In the meantime, everybody cross your fingers that the cable gods decide to smile upon me...
Peace out!

An interesting observation...

My blogiversary was Sunday--that's right, one solid year of verbal exhibitionism! And you know what I realized today? My very first post, back on May 22, 2004, was all about The Boy. And my last post, exactly one year later, was about...The Boy. Oh, man, I need to get a more interesting life. I can't believe that in a few days the boy and I are actually supposed to meet up. If he doesn't show, then it has to be over. The Boy saga will come to a close. I'll need to move on for good, to another (hopefully not doomed) romance to babble about. But if he appears as promised...who knows? Even though my anger from the last little incident has faded a little, I maintain that it was a good reality check. I will do my best to make sure good judgement prevails.

Bah! Enough about that sad topic. I'm off to Texas in less than 48 hours, which means I'm frantically doing laundry, packing, and trying to think of stuff I need to buy tommorow so I don't end up making a midnight trip to the 24-hour Giant Eagle less than twelve hours before the plane takes off, which is my usual pre-trip thing. It also means that I probably won't be able to post for a week or two. I know, I always say I'm going to post updates from the home base, but I'm never able to get on Mama Peacegrrl's computer long enough to string together any interesting thoughts. But I'm sure that when I get back on the 9th, there will be plenty of good updates and tales of humor and mishap.

An update on the knitting/ALS donation project...I've contacted the Northern Ohio chapter of ALSA (if you live around here, you should check out their site) and shared the idea, so hopefully I'll hear something soon. Still need to think of a snappy name--I just can't think of anything catchy. Any and all ideas are welcome. And thanks to the people who have voiced their support so far, via comments or e-mails or promises to buy a scarf. We're going to kick some serious ALS ass, I tell you!

Alrighty, it was a long day, and technically the last day of my contract. One year in Ohio gone! Holy cow, where did it go? Anyway, back to the point, I did a lot of working and walking and hanging out with my friends, and now I'm tired and it's time to check the status of the laundry and take a fabulously hot bath. So I'm out for now. Wish me happy flying, and I'll be back soon!
-pg
p.s...Not sure if she's a reader, but here's a goodbye shout-out to the Ney-ster! I miss you already, sista...guess I'll need to start wearing out the path between northeast Ohio and KY!

Hiding from the truth

I think I've made a big mistake.

I've spent the past month or so believing in this fairy-tale notion that The Boy had really changed, that maybe he isn't such a Boy anymore. Of course I got my badly-needed reality call in the form of a rumor that turned out to be true.

It's so funny how we choose what we're going to believe, and base our feelings entirely upon that. It was easy to create a fantasy that things could work out between us--because after a year, all I was left with was the good stuff and the notion that maybe he'd become the man that I knew he could be. There wasn't a whole lot of reality in the picture I drew in my head. And of course I feel stupid. And of course I hear a voice whispering "I told you so..." For all my rose-colored musings, I still never believed in my heart that things were going to work out. But I SO wanted them to. I so want him to have grown up. Is it wrong to love somebody in spite of their inability to love you back?

Is this the loneliness talking? The ten-month manless drought? Maybe. I keep trying to put God in a box, figuring that he's kept me waiting because something better is coming, and that something must have been The Boy--look at the evidence: the perfectly-timed phone calls! The message in the fortune cookie ("someone from your past has come to steal your heart")! But of course it doesn't work that way. This is another challenge. How can I move on to a mature relationship when I clearly still haven't moved past this one?

I'll survive. Maybe I really will see him in just a few days, like he promised. But my feet are back on the ground now. I'm not going to forget who I am, and what I deserve. A man, not a boy.

The Big Idea

My mind is clicking along on overtime lately. I've got this idea that I've been rolling around, bouncing off of a few people here and there, and chewing on to decide if it's the right thing right now. And think its time has come. Those of you who know me know that I tend to get a little excited about certain causes. And that I often feel a little empty, like I'm not doing enough in the world to make it a better place. I wondered for a long time what was stopping me from really jumping in and doing something BIG, something that would let me pour all of my passion and excess emotion into a project that might actually help someone else. And in giving my family one of the biggest challenges of our lives, I think God might have also handed me the kick-in-the-ass that I needed to get moving.

Ed, my mom's partner/companion/quasi-spouse, is dying of ALS. If you don't know what ALS is, read Tuesdays with Morrie, google Lou Gherig, or check out ALSA.org. It's a disease that attacks the voluntary muscles in the body. It's degenerative, and there isn't a cure. Sooner or later ALS patients lose the ability to walk, speak, swallow, and, eventually, breath. Ed's ALS started from the top down--since last July he has lost the ability to talk to us, breath properly without the help of a bi-pap machine, and swallow most liquids. And let me tell you about Ed. This is the man who, when my mom had a heart attack two years ago, drove all night to be with us, and sat at her bedside, fed her, held her hand, and kept my sister and I sane. He's the Great Love that my mom had been looking for and finally found.

Ed is a patient a Houston clinic funded by the Muscular Dystrophy Association that is working its ass off to research this disease. The thing is, it's still a mystery. Nobody knows enough about it to understand how it really works, how to predict it and prepare for it and cure it. There isn't enough research or money being poured into it and its relatives, Parkinson's and Alzheimer's. And that's where I start to feel like maybe I can be of some use. The first thing I'm doing? Telling everyone I know about ALS. Giving out red "strike out ALS" wristbands to anyone who will wear them. Pointing people to the ALS website. But that's not enough. There's something else I can do. I have a compulsive scarf-knitting habit (really, my closet is FULL of them). So why not make the idea of giving to charity a little more palitable to folks? I knit a scarf, charge $20 for it, keep $5 for materials and give the other $15 to MDA, ALSA, or Project ALS--buyer's choice. Can you imagine? If I made 50 scarves this summer (believe me, it wouldn't be hard) and got 50 folks to buy them, I could raise $750 for the cause. And get 50 people talking about ALS.

Of course, I don't know much about non-profit kind of stuff, and I need to start spreading the word--that's where the blog comes in. People who actually read this thing: does it sound like a good idea? Do you think people would be into it? Any suggestions? Any fellow knitters out there who want to jump on board once I get moving with this thing? Because I'm ready to go. It's too late to save Ed, and I know it. But it's not too late to save the hundreds of thousands who will come after him. Maybe Scarves for ALS can be his legacy, and finally give me a place to put all of my bleeding-heart compassion. Wish me luck!

Waiting

Okay, I'm getting a little impatient.

I'm waiting for the eye doctor to call and say my new glasses are ready. Waiting for my "Strike Out ALS" bracelets to get here in the mail. Waiting for residents to leave. Waiting for my knee to stop throbbing. Waiting for the police to give me information about my accident's status. Waiting for my internet connection to get set up, for May 28 to get here so I can head to Texas for a much-needed break, waiting for my grades, for a chance to get a good night's sleep, for it to be 5pm. Waiting seems to have become the new common theme in my life.

And it makes me wonder, is that what life really is? Just a bunch of waiting?

That's too profound for right now. Suffice to say that I'm a bit overwhelmed at present. It's probably more a result of lack of sleep than anything else. The last week of the semester has always been a tough one, but this one really seems to be kicking my ass. With all of the work in my buildings, I nearly forgot to do my finals. With all of the work on the finals, I barely remembered to make it to the lineup of judicial hearings I have to appear at this week. With all of THAT, I'm trying to keep the energy up to spend as much time with my friends as possible before everything changes. J-dawg will be gone on Saturday, and KN is taking off in less that two weeks--time is running out.

And then there's my mom, down in Houston while Ed gets a feeding tube put in. One of the beautiful things about ALS--it steals your abilty to swallow. Can you imagine? I'd never make it, as much as I love to eat! We keep making jokes about it, about slipping some pureed brussel sprouts in there when he's not looking, but it's our way of laughing about something that, if we really think about it, is scary as hell.

A year ago today I was up in Ohio interviewing for this job. I can't believe all of the things that have changed since then. And no matter what, I'm never sorry that I moved up here--even though I feel guilty for not sharing the family burdens; even though I miss my friends. This is where I'm supposed to be right now, and I'm glad for it. But at this very moment, I'm hungry, I need a nap, and my contact lenses are bugging me. Where the hell are my new glasses!?

"You look like you've been hit by a car!"

So the funny thing about the title of this post is that currently, in my case, it's true. I do look like I've been hit by a car. Probably because on Saturday night, I was hit by a car. Really. I was crossing the parking lot and some girl didn't see me. Now don't freak out, I'm okay. I got a black eye and my glasses broke, and my left arm doesn't work right, and I have some seriously gnarly bruises on my legs, but other than that I'm good as new. No broken bones, no concussion, just busted eyewear and bruised pride.

So top THAT for a lousy week! Seriously, though, how lucky am I? I have the coolest group of friends in the world: from islegavia who stayed with me Saturday night and joined me on my quest for new glasses this week, to G-lo and J-dog and KN and Tinier, who came and sat with me Sunday night until the pain medicine kicked in, and all of the coworkers who sent e-mails and called to check on me. My boss brought me dinner Wednesday night (Applebee's...mmm...), and somebody sent flowers (no idea who, so I don't know who to thank!) You know, I'm not always sure I made the right choice in coming up here. But the last week has told me that I've found a second family up here in godforsaken Ohio.

Other than that...the semester's almost over, so I'm working long hours to get the halls closed. Still eating vegetables and those surprisingly good low-fat devil's food cookies to get the butt smaller. Wondering if the latest contacts with The Boy will prove to mean that something big is in store for us, or if he'll fade back into my mental wasteland of regrets. Missing my mom, and LD from TLU for some reason this week, and Vixen (we HAVE to hang out when I get home!!). And the bluebonnets and the way Texas smells in the two weeks we laughingly call "spring." Up here it snowed on Monday, but today it's 75 and sunny, and everything's in bloom. Let's hope it lasts. Maybe by the time the big ugly black-blue-and-yellowish mark on my leg heals up, I'll actually be able to wear a skirt without freezing!

Think happy thoughts for the sore peacegrrl...
-pg

Spirit, spring, and other assorted stuff

I have this tattoo on the thumb of my left hand. It's an icthus, the little fish symbol used in Christianity. I got it a few years ago, and half the time I actually forget it's there. So today I was at this awards breakfast thingee, sitting next to a colleague who's known for being pretty open about his spirituality (and fairly conservative ideology). And I'm plowing into my lemon-poppyseed muffin (Six WW points, can you believe that crap?) and he notices the tattoo and starts chatting me up about its meaning. "Wow," he says, "You're a pretty spiritual person! I never had any idea." He seemed fairly astounded. I guess I'm known for many things around here--my politics, my passion for diversity, my impatience, and my pessimism, of course. But not my spiritual life. There are some (maybe even my breakfast buddy) who would probably argue that my politics contradict my beliefs--let's face it, I'm a Christian who isn't afraid to talk about God, but I also support gay marriage, Planned Parenthood, and the separation of church and state. I'm all for women in the clergy. I think the new Pope's dedication to conserving the sacred and ancient (and outdated) ideology of The Church is a bum deal. I don't think abortion should be criminalized. And, oh yeah...I vote Democrat! So I can see how I don't exactly fit the mold. To be honest, I'm perfectly okay with that. What bothers me, and what my friend made me starting thinking about, is that I think I've separated myself more and more from the spiritual part of my life since I came up here. I don't focus nearly enough on being at peace with myself, with what God has planned for me, with my shortcomings and strengths and challenges. I've always had trouble keeping my spiritual focus, but I used to have chapel every Sunday night, when I'd reconnect, and sing, and never feel judged. I haven't found that place up here yet. And I feel like I'm constantly fighting the forces greater than myself instead of letting them be, and accepting my total lack of control over every aspect of every minute of my life. I am a pretty spiritual person. At least I was. As my family continues to face the biggest challenge of our lives--watching one of us whither away because of a terrible disease called ALS--I desperately need to reconnect to that great life force, what I call God, and understand that I don't have to fight him anymore. That I'm better off sinking into the uncertainty and finding happiness in each day, instead of holding out for my whole world to be fixed and perfect.

So it's a gloomy day, cold and rainy and generally gross. Spring has left the building, and I don't know where the hell it went. I'd give anything for five days at a condo on Port Aransas, Jack Johnson on the stereo, and an Absolut screwdriver. And boy, am I feeling out of it. A two-hour conversation with The Boy on Monday night has me reeling with uncertainty, anxiety, hope...Do people really change? Have I really changed? Is it possible to move beyond so many mistakes, to have a new beginning? It's hard to focus on the pile of paperwork on my desk when I've got all of these Big Questions on my mind. I can't wait for Saturday, when I can let my mind wander. And sleep in. And shop (payday tommorow!) Although it will be hard to check out the strappy sandals and skirts when I just had to break all of my sweaters out again. They keep telling me that when spring and summer REALLY get here, it will be worth all of these miserable winter leftovers. I hope so. I want to get a tan this summer, and check out the hike trails at the park. And sleep in. And relish two long months without a single incident report, one-on-one, judicial hearing, or Hall Council meeting. It can't come soon enough...

Misunderstood

I haven't posted in over a week, and I hate to come back with a downer, but today is just not working out for me. Everything is crooked or backwards or isn't coming out right. Even the weather is confused--it's 40 degrees with melting snow outside. In late April. I guess it goes along with my mood.

The weekend was wierd, for one. It was a rare situation, but an unpleasant one anyway--one of those times when everybody has a place to go or a visitor or a set of plans that doesn't include me. It's bound to happen from time to time; there are things to do, homes to visit, old friends to bond with. Sometimes we need a break from the everyday crowd. And it's nobody's fault that I chose to move so far away from home that I don't have a real backup plan for times when my friends are otherwise occupied. In a way it was an opportunity...I caught up on sleep, did a lot of reading, cleaned my apartment, watched Sex and the City, cooked...all the while telling myself that this is what a single woman with no weekend plans does. I kept repeating to myself: It's not pathetic to have nothing better to do on a Saturday night than watch a four-hour documentary on FDR on the History Channel. I mean, I'm a single professional woman, not a college sophomore! But at some point on Sunday afternoon it dawned on me that I hadn't interacted with another human being in over 48 hours. Had I fallen and knocked myself unconcious, days would have passed before anybody found me. It's one of the bummers about living alone, one that I'm willing to live with, but it sucks all the while.

So I'm feeling a little reflective, a little grumpy, and a little alone in the world, and then comes Monday. There's this big incident going on in my building right now that I'm trying to puzzle out, and it seems to have taken on a life of it's own, and people are really starting to misinterpret what I'm trying to do. I'm sick in the pit of my stomach, knowing that someone thinks what I'm doing simply by virtue of the fact that it's my job and I care about the safety of my students is in some way meant to hurt or oppress them. The worst is that I can't do anything about it! I can't sit the student or students down and explain what's going on, because they won't come to me directly. I can't solve the problem that this whole thing stemmed from, because the investigation is out of my hands. I'm feeling so frustrated and so defeated. I know that I'll draw some wisdom out of this mess when it's all over, and that's the only consolation I really have. That and the realization that I'm probably being overdramatic and making work way too personal, yet again. One day I'll develop one of those "teflon" personalities--nothing sticks, it all just rolls off while I go with the flow without reading so much into everything.

The upside of all of this complaining (all I do is complain, I know, I'm sorry, faithful reading public) is that at least nothing majorly horrible is happening in what I sadly try to pass off as my love life. Nothing really good, but again, nothing bad. And I know why I'm alone right now. I'm so busy trying to do my job and adjust and be happy and bury the ghosts of old relationships that I don't have the emotional stamina to pour into making somebody else happy, too. I guess I'm all set to recieve, but I don't have enough in me to give at present. I need to deal with my own crap first.

So I wish I had happier things to blog about, and I promise to keep an eye out for them--so I'll post more often and be less depressing. That's the goal. Hold me to it!
-pg