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Wednesday, November 30, 2005

The Thing About the Holidays

Here's the deal ~ I love the holidays. Always have. The adult role models I had growing up continued to see them with the eyes of children and love them with a child's heart so it is perfectly normal to me that I always have done so as well. And yet, eight years ago...Daddy died on December 26th. Yes, it was eight years ago this December (which is impossible, isn't it?) but that doesn't seem to matter. When I miss him ~ as I do this morning ~ I miss him as much as I did at the beginning.

I think I know what's going on this year. I'm in boxes instead of settled. My decorations probably won't get unearthed to be unpacked, let alone put up. I'm further away from my friends than I've ever been. I'm completely single. And, for the first time in my life, I'll be a guest in someone else's home on the 25th instead of being in my own home. Mind you, I'll be going to the Lovely Cats's house which is as close to my own home as I can get without being here or in the basement. It's just...strange.

So, I admit I'm just a little ... off ... this season. I understand why. It's okay. It's just different for someone who has always been energized and more than a little pollyanna around the holidays.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you eggnog.

Sunday, November 27, 2005

Meeting Jaded

Jaded and the Pobble finally met today. Wow. What a neat lady! What a neat family. How lucky am I to know these people and count them as friends. I'll be back down here for my next scheduled trip in March ~ and will save time to crawl out of the basement and catch up with the Jadeds again.

How can you do anything but love a woman who not only has coffee for you but has chocolate raspberry coffee AND hot cocoa.

DonDon, somehow, some way, you're next...

Those are Pobble Thoughts (with, once again, help from Jaded). That and a buck fifty will get you chocolate raspberry coffee.

Friday, November 25, 2005

A Thanksgiving Riddle

How do you know when it's time to go home on Thanksgiving?


When the two-year old throws up all over the kitchen during dessert!

Ah well. We believe it was caused by the fact that she mainstreamed her piece of cake. Aside from that, it has been a good day! I must say, it's kinda nice when someone else hosts (the Divine M's sister, this year) and all you have to do is show up with the paper plates. Toasts were made to those who couldn't be with us ~ or with others we know and love; thanks were given for family and friends; and (aside from the vomit incident) everything was delightful.

Meanwhile, I hope you all have had a wonderful day as well (minus vomit ~ I think I got that covered for all of us.)

Those are thankful Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Back to Blogging from the Basment

Well, I'm back. The move went well. I am up to my ears in boxes and will be for a couple months now ~ and I'm going to enjoy my new place. It has room for my father's books and my grandmother's furniture and my artwork. And it's mine. Pictures to post soon!

Meanwhile, as the title says, I'm back in the basement. I think Thanksgiving with the Divine M and the Grill Master is going to become a tradition ~ and a cherished one at that.

Cultures are colliding here a little bit. In case I haven't said so in the past, the Divine M, the Grill Master, and the Poo are black. I, your Pobble, am white. Aside from the strange looks we tend to get when I tell people at the Philly airport I'm visiting family and then the Grill Master wraps his arms around me and swoops me into the truck, it has stopped registering on our radars LONG ago. Until this trip...

The Grill Master's 5 year old nephew is staying with them for a little while and it came time to introduce me.

"This is Miss Pobble."

Whoa!

For the Divine M, it's a sign of respect to one's elders. In our late-30's, she still calls Miss Phyl, "Miss Phyl" and wouldn't dream of calling her anything else. For me...well, I'm a white woman from the South. For me, it harkens back to "Miss Scarlett" and "Mister Ashley" and not knowin' nothin' 'bout birthin' no babies.

Luckily for us, the Divine M and I can talk about things like this. It is important for her that her nephew sees me the same way he sees the other, mostly black, adults in his life. To leave off the "Miss" will set me apart as much as adding the "Miss" did during the anitdiluvian era. And yeah, that makes sense to me. I still cringe a little when he says my name. Probably will for a little while yet. Yet, the reasoning makes sense to me. And, as powerful as words are, they only have the power we give them. So, I reject Miss Scarlet and embrace Miss Pobble. Or at least, I'm working on it.

Finally, in case I don't get on here again today, my very best wishes for a wonderful Thanksgiving to everyone. It's easy to forget all we have to be thankful for. Remember it this week and know you are counted among one particular Pobble's own blessings.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee ~ and a slice of pumpkin pie!

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

A Short Hiatus

Tomorrow, the packers come and pack everything up. Bob, My Hoo-Hah Computer (yes, that's his name; registered with Dell and everything) will be squatting with a friend so I will have limited and sporadic internet access (whenever I'm at my friend's place) for the next few days until everything gets set up in Worcester.

At which point, I will be back: The Boston-ish Pobble. ;)

Until then...

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee, even in Worcester!

Monday, November 14, 2005

Unusually Random Pobble Thoughts

1. I met the Muppet's parents. Mind you, we have been in contact via email and phone calls for the past couple years. That's what makes finally meeting them even cooler. We all agreed we were all as fabulous and as wonderful as we had expected.

2. I have a head cold. It's getting better but the timing on it sucked ass. I have a deadline with work; the packers come on Thursday; the movers come on Friday. Now was NOT a good week to have a head cold.

3. I have a new favorite doo-hicky. So something good came out of the head cold. It's a portable, mini, just this side of disposable vaporizer. Put a pre-vicks'ed-up pad in this thing and turn it on. It has moved from my bedroom to my office to my bedroom. Buy one of these. Even if you're not sick now. Winter is coming. You'll thank me.

4. I love my new landlord. To the point that I think I might actually have a friend in Worcester. Time will tell. Worst case though is I have the coolest landlord on the planet. And that is not a bad worst case scenario.

5. I have decided to pack all of my sex toys and my ritual tools myself and carry them in the Pobble Mobile rather than have them packed and moved by the packers. These are not items I particularly want other people handling. It does however make for an interesting pile of things in my living room awaiting boxes.

6. I remember, at one point last year, I was uber-busy at work; things with the divorce were going badly; and I was generally feeling sluggy. So, Angry Girlfriend (this is actually a compliment, trust me) offered to have her cleaning lady come over and do a major cleaning of the apartment so that I would at least have one less thing to worry about. I was also doing a nightly ritual at the time so my tools and altar were just out (normally, I store them; my place isn't big enough for a standing altar.) When I got home from work, Angry Girlfriend was waiting for me and started to laugh because her cleaning lady had swept and mopped around my altar but hadn't touched it. We laughed even harder when I went into the bedroom and discovered my sex toys lined up in their drawer organized by type and color. Sex toys she could handle. Ritual altar, no way.

7. Angry Girlfriend and Airman Elmo are finally getting married. I'm their maid-of-honor. And it is an honor. I've told her I will kill her if she puts us in hoop skirts and parasols. I mean, do you have any idea how many weddings I have been in down south and I've always managed to avoid hoop skirts. Luckily, she had impeccable taste in clothing (and men and friends...) so I'm not really worried. Unless she does it to spite me. Which is not beneath her.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

Holiday Gifts

The Pobble is back and feeling much better after a really lousy day yesterday. My not-ex-friend came over last night. We talked and ate Italian food and played cards in front of the fire and by the time he left, I felt like myself again. It's good to have friends.

That fine line is one I have always tried to walk. That one between allowing myself to feel emotions ~ even, especially, the icky ones that don't feel good and make me want to curl up and disappear ~ and not wallowing in those same emotions and letting them sink me into an abyss. Maybe it's because I am older. Maybe wiser. Maybe healthier. Or perhaps, just more jaded. Whatever it is (a combination of all of those things?) I know it's an easier line to walk than it used to be. While I don't have to hide from the negative feelings, I don't have to let them control the next several days of my life either. It's a nice gift to have given myself after so long.

While I was in Texas, the Duck and I talked a lot. She doesn't have a friend down there she can say anything to. While I was there she did, though, and so I did a lot of listening. I found myself wanting to be able to give her this gift. This gift of balance. Of feeling but not letting it consume you. Of not having to pretend everything is just fine, really when the exact opposite is the truth. Unfortunately, this is not a gift you can give, like a book or a day at the spa. This is a gift we each have to learn for ourselves. My wanting it to be easy doesn't make it so. God knows it wasn't easy for me to learn it.

However, if I had my way, it is the gift I would give everyone this holiday season. The gift of feeling AND perspective. The gift of realizing our own self-worth and that one bad day ~ or one person's perspective ~ doesn't make that any less. I want that for the people I love. For the people I don't love. For the people I don't even know. Until then, I will keep walking that thin line myself (and falling off of it occasionally, I'm sure ~ pobody's nerfect) and listening to those people who have honored me by choosing me to listen.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

A Taste of Honey

You know the one bad thing about getting to spend three hours with someone you love? It makes you want another three hours. And another. And another. And, and, and...

I have been in Houston the last five days. It's the trip I had to reschedule because of Rita the Bitch. Now, all five days were wonderful. The Duck and I can go weeks, months, years without ever being in touch and *POOF* it's like we have never been apart once we are indeed back together. Wonderful. But those three hours? Those were the three hours I spent just with my Dear One.

I finally got my arms around him. Touched him, held him, made sure he really was okay. And then we started to laugh. Honestly, I don't remember the last time I laughed that hard. For three hours, we talked about everything, nothing, and laughed and just were. I met Momma. I walked through his house so I can picture him on the computer when we chat. The tears were there when I had to say goodbye to him ~ but, honestly, at that point I was too tired to cry.

Still, I saw him. He's beautiful. I'll see him again. And I already miss him.

Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.