Snow!

If you live in Seattle, you know that "snow" means that wet, slushy, heavy stuff that falls out of the sky in big, juicy, fluffy flakes and becomes a slushy mess that occasionally pockets itself into hunks of black ice. It's not like the snow in most other places, that accumulates on contact and causes freeways to shut down when people that aren't used to it (a.k.a everyone in Seattle) drive on it.

Today, we got some of that "real snow": it's fluffy, it poofs into a cloud of white when you kick it, and unless you're wearing boots it rides up into your pants. It's the kind of snow that lasts for hours - days, even - and stops an entire city from doing much of anything.

For those of you that often get "real snow," this won't be as spectacular, but us Seattlites still have to post about it.

When I got up there were a scant few inches of the stuff, and it had stopped coming down.

No big, right?

Wrong. A few hours later...





Those are cat prints. Simon really wanted to go outside...it was a bad idea for him.

Here's a comparison shot, taken just a couple of hours apart.

By 5pm we had seven inches in Rainier Beach. That's un-fucking-heard of.

And, of course, the dog had a great time playing in it.

"What is this stuff...?"


"...Mom?"


"Whatever it is, I kind of like it!"




"WOO HOO!"



This is the hill I would have had to climb if I'd gone to work:

The buses were on snow routes, though, which meant the closest one stopped over a mile from mile house. Luckily(?) my boss had me bring work home yesterday afternoon. Later in the day, I saw two guys trying to shovel the entire hill with small snow shovels.

Yeah, right.

shock

between the ice and the concrete

the vegetation is in shock

Oh my.

It's been a while.

I'm now writing on Viva la Resolution and have gone to two therapy sessions. Both are going well.

I have photos awaiting the interwebs, but first I need to get my computer de-virused.

Please be patient.

(I need to put all of my blogs together. I'm always lagging on at least one.)

Family

When it comes to the holidays, I have too many families. One side always administers a kind of pressure that always makes me feel guilty...but this year I'm standing my ground.

And I'm doing it without malice.

*collapses*

I did an hour of ballet this morning.
I keep hearing that if you work out in the morning you'll have more energy.
I have determined that this is a lie.

Loved

Last night, I told my dad that I'm going to therapy. Then I explained what caused the issues that brought me to this point.

He was so supportive.

I feel loved.

Write

Guess what Kristy got me?


I think I'm going to say "no" to this weekend and spend time doing the exercises in it.

This Could Be Your Last

These are the images that have been assailing me lately:

an unbloomed rosebud

ticking clocks

empty cups of coffee

and lengthening hair.

A study in focus, in seizing moments.

Forced Hand

Restless, bored, and irritated at Resistance 2's shitty "co-op" feature, I went to Tutta Bella at 9pm last night. I ordered a cappuccino ("For...here? Okay..."), took out my pen and paper, found some inspiration, wrote a little, lost my inspiration, finished my cappuccino and went home.

I called four people first, so it wasn't intentional writing - in fact, it was kind of forced - but I still call it a win.

PS: I have a lonely photo of the event, but since my home computer's still out of commission I'll have to upload it at another time. Photo uploaded.

Progression

Livejournal is down, which is frustrating because I'd like to use it to find a counselor that is familiar and/or comfortable with alternative sexualities and practices - LJ seems to be the best place to get recommendations for things like that.

Obviously, Richard and I talked last night. From what we can gather, my past abuse took over and I became completely self-destructive, digging at anything I thought would hurt him.

I never went to therapy because I was always cognizant of my own issues and triggers. This event - though it only happened once and never has before - has shown me that there are little buried time bombs ticking down, waiting for the right circumstances to explode.

That is finished.

I will not be betrayed by my own mind.



As much as I'd like to end my post there, I will kick myself later if I don't note a few other points:

I handled the conversation very well. This experience has helped me tremendously in being progressive and productive instead of guiltily going numb and beating my chest about it.

Richard has forgiven me, but things aren't better (though he says they're "mostly better"). He didn't expect me to handle the fallout this well.

I'm not "forbidden to drink" but Richard and I came up with a drinking rule: three-drink maximum. He vetoed "no drinking;" I was being harder on myself than he was.

Barring any new insight, we've determined that this incident was not a product of the new experimentation in our relationship. I did push that button, but I pushed every other button, too: I was spoiling for a fight.

Richard asked if I wanted a "consequence," then told me that said consequence is that I must play Resistance 2 with him all weekend. Then he bought me a new controller. (Oh, that man...)

I'm afraid of therapy, mostly because I'm afraid of finding out that I'm not in control of myself. This recent rude awakening has negated that excuse, so as soon as I choose a therapist with availability on Saturday and an open mind about sexuality, I'm making my first appointment.

Lashing Out

I'm really disappointed that I did exactly what my post said I wasn't going to do.

On Saturday night I lashed out at Richard. We'd had a really good weekend (which included positive social growth on many levels) but after the place cleared out we went walking (so I could sober up) and I turned on him. The worst part is that I remember everything that happened after I lashed out - including his response - just not what I said to hurt him. Richard isn't inclined to tell me, and though I don't want to understand or accept that, I do. Whatever it was, it was bad enough that he slept at his parents' house on Saturday and the couch on Sunday.

It will take him a while to sort through his feelings, and until then I'm trying something new: instead of feeling horribly guilty and shutting down (crying in bed, alone) I'm talking about my feelings with Sarah and Cass and determining the most productive way to move forward until(?) Richard and I are able to communicate.

As scary as it is to appear weak in front of others, doing so has helped me realize that it's okay to ask for help. It's also okay to be barely able to put a sentence together while asking for that help...and it's okay to write a post about it that seems totally disjointed.

Here's the refreshing thing: it's so simple. I fucked up. I said something really hurtful to my partner. He's allowed to be angry, and he's allowed to not want to talk about it. There are no sides, here, because I agree with him. And the unintended side effect of him saying that I'm "on my own on this one" is that I'm forced to reach out in other directions...and feel less "on my own."

As much as it hurts - yeah, it's tearing me apart - I'm growing.

Leftovers

After watching today's special comment by Keith Olbermann and re-reading My Ishmael I've decided I want to learn survival skills and live in the wilderness.

Instead I'm eating left-over chocolate skulls and feeling emotionally rocky. Between that and the nausea, I think it's time to switch birth control pills.

No, I haven't been writing or doing yoga or meditating, god damn it.

I don't know that Richard and I got very far in our "team meeting" on Saturday. However, I worry if I think about it too much I'll over-analyze and self-fulfill, so I'll shoo it away like so many fruit flies.

On an unintended metaphoric note: Those fuckers take FOREVER to die out, even after you've scrubbed the kitchen and removed every speck of food from the disposal.

What Could Go Wrong?

I've started taking Ned on short walks. The primary purpose is to get him used to the rain - which he loathes and fears - but some of the positive side effects are that he and I get more exercise, he's learning to heel (all over again) and we're starting the slow process of making him a bit less skittish. I'm glad the work is starting now: soon enough he'll have a neuter appointment, and I can only hope that he'll be obedient enough that I can keep him from running up the stairs and tearing his stitches.

Tomorrow I'm going out to breakfast with Kristy, and I have tentative plans scheduled for Friday with Sarah (the latter with Richard, the former without). Add the drama of Saturday's Game Talk 2008 and a horoscope that insinuates a new job or a raise, and it should be an exciting week.

Pretty girls and waffles. What could go wrong?

The Way It Is

Sometimes this is just the way it is.

And that's okay.

Flooding of the Mind

Nothing got done last night.

I came home to lights on and a locked deadbolt. I don't have a key for the deadbolt. Richard's car wasn't in its usual spot and besides, he had class last night.

Someone was in my fucking house.

Already late, I ran downstairs and hollered toward Ned's room: "Ned? You up there?" His whine was comforting. Next, I ran up the stairs to our neighbors' house; they hadn't seen anything.

Blunt and I decided to try jimmying one of the windows, but as we came back down the stairs I saw the door open.

Richard was home. His ringer was off (so he didn't hear my frantic calls or his wake-up-and-go-to-school alarm) and it took the dog's persistant whining to wake him.

I spent the rest of the night drinking beer (Marti gave me one), trying to calm down, and watching Richard play Fallout 3.

Things My Body Knows

I made a list of things to do this evening to keep me on track. The downer? I forgot to add "dinner" to the list. Without it, I'm still moving at a break-neck pace until 9:45pm, at which point I still have to shower, wind down, and get ready for bed.

Richard and I are going to have a "team meeting" this weekend to examine our work loads and (hopefully) renegotiate who does what. My biggest concern is whether he can get organized enough to remember to do the things he already does, let alone any new things we add to his list. (Richard isn't good at everything? That's crazy talk!)

I've been feeling knotted up for the past couple of days, and it hasn't been about the election. If I listen closely, I can hear my body whispering to itself: "Prepare to be overstressed. It's coming, and it's coming fast. This is not a drill. I repeat: this is not a drill."

Sometimes my body intuits things that my brain can't. (Other times it freaks out for nothing.)

Thank you, America.

Our Next President

I'm so proud of my country.

Important Things

It felt good to take Cass shopping last night. We found a well-fitting cardigan and lace tank, so she bought different colors of each. (We also avoided buying the things she liked that fit her poorly, mostly in the chest area.) It seems that my "shopping niche" is to steer people away from their obsessions - for Cass it's jackets and sweatshirts - and toward what they actually need.

It made me feel good to be so helpful, especially after accidently double-booking our scheduled hang-out day (today), which I do entirely too often.

It's election day today. I'm a little nervous, which is not something I expected. From the moment he threw his hat in the ring, I've been saying that he'll go all the way - even placing bets on it - and so far, I've had the opportunity to gloat at each victory. It was an easy way to lighten the dark mood that has come over the country in recent months, but now that mood is like a storm, swirling around us all and giving me chills.

The Dead

Though it wasn't as focused as I would have liked it to be, my Day of the Dead party went well. Next year I'll find more ways to make people comfortable with talking about their dead instead of the delicious guacamole.

Also: Sarah made me feel beautiful.







"The Dance of the Dead" - I think it's fitting. All three photos link to her blog.

Things That Move Me

I still need face paint and classic red party cups.

Last night I went on a twenty-minute walk, did some hip-opening yoga, took the garbage and recycling out, showered and watched bits and pieces of Bring It On. (I then tried to hide the latter from Richard; he found out anyway.) I even tried to meditate - post-yoga in corpse pose - but there was just too much on my mind and, sadly, I didn't have enough time to get it all out.

Tonight is party-prep night, so tomorrow I can deal with whatever comes up, gets in my way, or goes wrong. Richard also insists that I play Little Big Planet with him.

Lastly, I'm in the process of deleting my MySpace. Only two more people need to read my "contact information" message before it goes - I've already transfered all of my photos and blogs.

Now if I could only focus on work for ten minutes, I'd really feel accomplished. Instead, I'll take deep breaths and remember that the moment I get off the bus I'll be rewarded with this:

Prophecies

In Chinese astrology, I'm The Pig. This upset me for many years, but I'm mostly over it. Other than my shame at being mud-covered and snorting, I never really got into the eastern astrology thing. After stumbling across chaoselemental's recent post and doing some link-clicking, though, I'm going to take my horoscope at face value and work it for all it's worth. Who cares if it's delusion as long as it's inspiration?

Forecast for 2008
...Much attention needs to be paid to legal matters, financial details and any paperwork...the Pig needs to be extremely selective in who he confides in. A lot of personal soul searching and decisions will also be made this year...May and August will be important months for career advancement.

This is all eerily correct: my case settled, my confidants went tits-up, and during these last few months I've become a very different person. If I'd been paying attention, I would have pursued all those writing opportunities I had with Shoreline and Lindsay in the spring and summer months.

Here's the clincher, though:

Forecast for 2009
2009 should prove to be a lucky and encouraging year for all Pigs. Interesting offers and chance meetings can occur at any time of the year and the Pig needs to be alert and aware for any lucky breaks. With such a hectic year, it’s important for the Pig to make time for fun and relaxation and travel may be one way to do this. It’s also an excellent year to review his diet and fitness regime, as he needs to be in top form for such an active schedule. April to July will bring happy times for love and relationships, while August and September bring interesting offers on the work front, particularly in relation to publishing and writing.

That means I need to start working. Now. Right now.

...and take the time to relax, too.

And. Um. Find twelve more hours for each day.

Shit.


[Astrological information found here; go to my LJ for a more detail entry.]

Nervous

Last night I slept.

Well, I mostly slept. Richard met me after work and we drove to Seward Park for a dinner of Philly cheese steak sandwiches (delicious!). I hadn't slept well the night before, so when we got home I curled up in bed, intending to get up once Richard was ready to go downstairs. Instead of dragging me out of bed he climbed in with me; we slept from seven p.m. to six a.m., with a short dog-and-birth-control break at midnight. I'm well-rested, but as far as accomplishments go I've got nothing.

My night-before-mare centered on being powerless against a stronger male presence. I re-gained the power, lost it, and only re-gained it again when I got angry. The dream reminds me that I put too much focus on Richard as a source of protection and should focus on determining my own abilities instead. (A side note: When I dream, I often lose all strength in my hands - a lovely metaphor - but in this dream I actually used my hands to disable an attacker. A step forward?)

The problem is this: I'm fighting any additions to my already full-seeming schedule. Yes, I'd love to take aikido, but what happens to my once-a-week "relaxing night" if I add two nights away from home? What happens to the dog's play time, the housework, and the few minutes I want to spend ignoring my phone and going comatose in front of a movie?

It makes me nervous.

Things That I Finished

I started taking fish oil again this morning. I forgot that it makes me feel like I'm burping sushi. This isn't good unless you've actually been eating sushi.

The weekend was just what I thought it would be: incredibly busy. Richard forgot his mom's birthday, so on Saturday we added photo printing, framing and wrapping to our list of things to do. (We used the photo to the left.) We got everything done, though - including cleaning the kitchen floors - before Sarah and her friend Billy came over. Haunted housing was a bit of a bust, but feeling the divot in Sarah's freshly-shaved leg made up for it.

Cindy and Rob didn't come over until late Sunday afternoon, so I had a chance to do something that's been on my list for a while: clean the downstairs bedroom. I managed to stay focused (no multitasking!) and all that's left to do is put the now-clean sheets back on the bed and throw a blanket on top. Now our Day of the Dead guests will have a place to pass out without being forced to cuddle with boxes of our memorabilia.

I have no doubt that I will be unproductive this evening, but I'm hoping to at least move around a little before curling up for a post-weekend sleep-a-thon. However, I recommend betting against me.

Social Things

I've found that listening to Pandora.com keeps me focused at work. Thusfar, I feel accomplished.

Last night I said that I'd "either take the dog on a walk or have him out...then [meditate] or put the focus on Richard, depending on what he needs." I kept to that plan, loosely: Richard and I talked while Ned bounced around with us, then went downstairs to beat things up (Castle Crashers). I tried to decline the beat-em-up so I could meditate, but then Richard explained that it was important to him that I spend time while he's distracted. (The nice thing about four years with someone is that an "explanation" can be as simple as a sad look and a vulnerable tone when asking, for the second time, "Please, honey?") I relented, and we beat things up.

It's another school night for Richard, so I have grand walk-to-the-store plans. I also need to freshen up on my local politicians and send my election ballot in. GoBama.

If I have time, I'll start putting together the wish list my mom asked for. I can work on that with Ned out, or while laundry is going. Either way.

It's going to be a busy weekend:

Saturday: Take Ned to his bath appointment; pick up birth control; pick Ned up; meet Sarah for haunted house-ing, dancing, or a night in.

Sunday: Rob and Cindy come over.

What people (read: Richard) don't often realize is that having friends over means cleaning. The kitchen, the living room, the dog's room: these are three places that everyone is definitely going to see, whether I want them to or not. The downstairs mess often needs to get picked up and rearranged, too, for comfortable video-gaming. Richard said he'd help out on Friday night and Sunday morning, so I'm in hopes that my frustrations don't have a chance to get the best of me.

The Death of a Relaxing Evening

I bought peppers (two of the cute little ones in the corners on the main page), twelve-hour candles, a Day of the Dead paper display, sugar skull molds and meringue powder.

I love the market.

There were some beautiful calveras and the wood carvings were 20% off, but nothing leapt at me screaming, "Jen, I'm yours! Don't leave without me!" (except for a weasel, which was 825$, and the otter shown in this blog, which is 450$) so I kept my purchases to a minimum. Other than making sure I have enough sugar (and buying perishable food two or three days before the party) I'm all set.

Because of the hefty and awkward purchases, though, I won't be walking partway home. I may try taking the dog for a walk - it's a definite arm workout - since it looks like Richard will be staying home from school today. (He left work early and is at home now.)

So, new plan: either take the dog on a walk or have him out while I'm cleaning (living room); then an honest attempt at meditation or put the focus on Richard, depending on what he needs.

Alone

I have a hard time convincing myself to run errands alone. Once I start driving I feel better - yeah, I'm the girl listening to the classical station at full volume - but the concept of spending an hour or two running errands, by myself, is daunting. No one to talk to? How will I survive?

Last night I drove to Seward Park to buy new dog food (Avoderm, which should help his skin and coat), then to the local Safeway to pick up milk and cereal. I have another grocery run to make later this week (using an actual list) and as a package to mail. Maybe I'll be brave on Saturday and do both.

Other than the errands mentioned above, it wasn't a very productive evening. I finished a book I've already read twice and talked with Cass online. Come to think of it, the talk was productive: I'm making quality people one of my priorities, and Cass has quality. (We made tentative plans for next next Tuesday.)

Richard has school tonight, so I'm going to take the opportunity to leave work a half hour early, get off the bus at Henderson, and walk home. Forced exercise, hoo-rah! After I wheeze in the door I'll let Ned out for love and vacuuming. Then, maybe, some meditation...if it's not too late in the evening.

Old Things

The drama continues.

Calvin sent a scathing, tantrum-reminiscent email last night. I haven't responded yet, and am not sure if I intend to. What relationship do Calvin and I have? Is it better to suffer the frustrations of making an attempt at a (wholly unlikely) resolution? Or is my initial reaction - to fix the boo-boo - a reflex: do I feel the need to resolve the issue because that's just what I do...whether or not we're actually friends?

Maybe this Buddhism thing is sinking in a little.

Richard is - or was - friends with Calvin, though, for seventeen years. He already made his decision, but he's still having a hard time, and I'm doing my best to console and distract him by turns. It's not enough; it never is when one of your closest friendships begins to unravel like an old sweater: it didn't fit anymore, but that doesn't mean you want it to fall apart.

I should vacuum while the dog's out tonight - he'll find it interesting. If I haven't been to the store by then, I'll also need to pick up dog food. And milk. And crackers.

Things that Stink

I woke up early on Saturday and took Ned out to run-n-play while I hosed down his defecation area, then had to chase him when he bolted into our neighbor's yard. Far from minding, Marti took the opportunity to show me her hysterectomy scar and introduce me to her mother. Ned managed to transfer dog poop from Marti's backyard to her foot via his paw.

It was gross and I thought you should know.

Feeling accomplished and naturally pretty despite my feces-filled morning, I didn't spend much time primping for Richard's company party. Other than our raffle wins (him: a crappy mp3 player; me: $25 to Starbucks and a plastic container filled with 520 pieces of candy corn - I guessed 512) and our hand-holding stroll through the park, it was uneventful.

We were supposed to game later that evening, but miscommunications led to tantrums and our plans fell through. Rob, Ben, Richard and I had dinner and played Castle Crashers instead.

The miscommunications and tantrums led into Sunday, which was shot by the time we figured out that nothing would get resolved. We missed out on plans with Sarah, but did get the chance to go to Vivace with Ben later in the evening.

As far as priorities go, I don't feel terrible about the weekend. Ned got some attention, the necessary housework got done (and nothing further), and I spent time with two quality people outside of our usual gaming sessions. I would rather have kept plans with Sarah and focused on Buddhism a bit more (or at least worked out) but I'm not kicking myself for letting Calvin-gate get in the way. Richard is really torn up about it, and if there's one thing that's important to me, it's supporting Richard the best I can.

I have a doctor's appointment tonight, so my workout is going to be the walk to and from her office. My goal is to spend the majority of that walk focusing on my mind, and not on my mp3 player or a book.

Soap in My Brain

Kundalini Yoga tried to brainwash me, and now my back feels worse than before I used it. Sarah suggested we watch it drunk: I think that's the only proper use for it at this point. I certainly wouldn't give it to one of my friends for personal use.

Fully defeated, I'm going back to Yoga Conditioning for Women and starting my yoga DVD search from scratch. If you've come upon my blog and have a recommendation, please don't hesitate to comment.

Focus

I spent most of last night focusing on the animals. Simon and I had reading time together, and Ned followed me around and had some serious face-in-my-face time. His neck is healing nicely.



I also started What the Buddha Taught. Thusfar, it's inspiring.

This morning I tried the beginning meditations from my Kundalini yoga DVD. It was awkward, and definitely something I'll want to practice alone. However, my lungs felt clearer afterward.

I plan on finishing the Kundalini DVD this evening, spending time with the dog (nail clipping?) and doing a quick clean of the kitchen. In fact, I can probably clean the kitchen while Ned's out with me...

Isn't it funny that we never think of these simple ways to multitask?

Goals...big goals.

-Get a job in an industry that focuses on writing.
-Immerse myself in eastern philosophy and culture: study a martial art, meditate regularly, practice yoga, and study Theravada Buddhism.

The first goal is one I've had for years that hasn't been achieved because I fear failure. There are many ways to get to this goal, and lots of branches I can scramble off to once I reach it.

The second goal hasn't been achieved because I've been lazy. I'm not as driven as I used to be, and there's always something that gets in the way, something that takes less time, is easier to do, and yet makes me feel "accomplished" - for the moment anyway. I also balk at the idea of developing a connection to eastern practices because I hate the idea of being viewed as one of those people that gets kanji tattoos and looks like a douchey poser. However, Buddhism DOES focus on ridding oneself of the need for that kind of superficial acceptance...

I guess this journal is supposed to help me focus on these things, as well as push me to let go of the things that aren't important. Spending time with Richard benefits my life; re-organizing my closet doesn't. Cuddling with the dog is important both for him and for me; sitting in front of the computer and absent-mindedly petting him isn't.

Okay. Well then. Here we go.

Well, that was fast.

There are too many things I want to do, and too many other things that get in the way. I think it's time to whittle down my life to my big priorities, to the things that scare me.

I think I'll take a step back from the silly things that are holding me up and start standing under my own power. I think I'll take off the blindfold.

Inspiration

I use Livejournal for blogging, but Blogger is so...tempting. For now, click the link to be taken to my LJ and, if you have any suggestions as to what I should use this blog for, let me know.

I'd like to find something that inspires me.