PantheaCon

Was amazing.  I came home very thoroughly Poached.  Almost recovered, I suppose.  Among other things much harder to describe, I have not been so thoroughly intellectually challenged in quite a while.

Exercise

I got my shit together and went to a water aerobics class this morning.   I really and for trulio cannot remember the last time I was in the water.  I'm sore in some weird places, too.  While I'm not saying I won't go back, I will look for other things, somewhere else.  The facilities were somewhat lacking for the price.  Or maybe that's just the California inflation at work again?  The bathing suit issue is still an issue, too.  Those cute tankinis float all around and get in the damn way.  I need a simple swimsuit that's large enough *and* long enough.  Apparently, that's not a simple requirement.


One of the ladies in the pool was talking about all the snow much of the rest of the country is getting, while we're having days in the 50's and 60's.  She was saying that her mortgage was offset by the lack of the price of fuel for heating.  I'm not sure I'd buy into that completely, but then, I'm biased.

Also, I keep thinking about chickens.  As in, maybe I am interested in keeping them, for the eggs.  (I'm far too cowardly to keep them for meat.)

Oracle

I realize that I'm getting over the move.  I still intend to go home one day, but I'm much less angry about it all. Still, this is *work*, this building a new life.  I can also foresee, in my Delphic way, that when I do get to go home, I'll have to do it all, yet again.  Just because it's home doesn't mean that I'll have a life waiting for me there.  If I go back to the city, some things will be easy, but not many.  If I settle somewhere else in the valley, all will be new.  Another thing; my sons are growing up in California.  Will they want to stay here when I go home?  Will my need to go  home be trumped by my need to be near my boys?  This is all annoying and exhausting to contemplate.   

It's all very irritating, even if I am feeling better.  I suppose I should just pull a Scarlett and not think about it.  I have enough to deal with in the here and now.

So, I Hit Him

Perhaps I should start by saying that I'm sick and twisted and only hit folks I like, when they have made bad puns or been smart arses or somesuch.  What this says about my psyche, I dunno'.  If you figure it out, give me a holler.

This afternoon, I was out running errands with That Man.  Somewhere in conversation he said that I was obviously better since the surgery.  I asked him how, and he said I wasn't as tired, I wasn't as grumpy, and (he's on a roll now and grinning slyly) I'm not as mean.  So I punched him on the shoulder and he took back the not as mean part.

Now that's an amusing little story, but it got me thinking, about things I've been thinking about anyhow, about what the overall result of the hysterectomy will look like in the long run.  Every woman I've spoken to who has personal experience in this matter talks about how fabulous she felt, a couple of months later.  As it happens, tomorrow is one month to the day.  And if That Man has already noticed that I'm not as tired or grumpy (see paragraph two), where will I be, a month from today?  How much of my life and energy was eaten by this issue, before I ever knew about it?  I know there's no way to know these things precisely, because I change every day anyhow, but I surely do wonder.

What about important decisions I made while under this influence?  Should I spend any time looking back?  If so, *how far* back? 

I suppose I should just say okay and keep moving forward.  Most of the unhappy decisions I've had to make in the last few years are irrevocable anyway, so no use bothering about them.

Thank You, Robert Morse

I have a cold.  It was rotten earlier in the week, now, it's just a cold.  Stuffy nose, cough, etc.  I'll get over it eventually.

However.  Today I'm singing.  And that's a surprise.  It's been a long time.  As a personal barometer, me singing show tunes means good things.

So, just for giggles:

Now there you are.
Yes, there's that face.
That face that somehow I trust.
It may embarrass you to hear me say it.
But say it I must,
Say it I must

You have the cool clear
Eyes of a seeker of wisdom and truth,

Yet, there's that up turned chin
And the grin of impetuous youth.

Oh, I believe in you,
I believe in you.

I hear the sound of good
Solid judgment whenever you talk.

Yet, there's the bold, brave spring
Of the tiger that quickens your walk.
(roar, roar!)

Oh, I believe in you,
I believe in you.

And when my faith in my fellow man
All but falls apart,
I've but to feel your hand grasping mine
And I take heart,
I take heart.

To see the cool clear
Eyes of a seeker of wisdom and truth,

Yet with the slam, bang, tang
Reminiscent of gin and vermouth.

Oh, I believe in you,
I believe in you.

Stand Offish?

So, I've spent much of my life looking for community.  I've also noticed that people tend to keep their distance from me.  Which would explain why I look for community, as it's often lonely out there.

I have a thing.  I can't see it or explain it, it is invisible to me.  I can only describe it's effects.  The world keeps its distance, there is a glass wall.  People are perfectly pleasant, but not overly friendly.  What is the common denominator?  Ummm, yours truly.  I have presumed for some years that I give off some kind of distancing vibe.  I don't know if it says, "fuck off" or, "I'm a little busy just now, please go away" or even if it varies between the two, but people seem to slide by me.  Or I slide by them, somehow just not being able to connect in a significant *enough* fashion.  (enough for me, that is)  I end up with acquaintances, when I think I have friends.

We can insert all sorts of stuff about being raised Roman Catholic, in a dysfunctional family, about my essential distrust of people, about my cautious, possibly paranoid outlook on life.  Blah, blah, blah.  What can I do, today, to find a door through the glass wall?  My family of origin?  Well, the wall can stay up for them.  But, if I'm lucky, I've got another 40 years of life in front of me, and I want it to be different than the years behind me.  So, *I* have to do the changing, as the world is bigger than I am.