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!
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Sunday, May 22, 2005
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.
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.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
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!
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!
Thursday, May 12, 2005
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!?
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!?
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
"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
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
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