P. C. is hurting. If boys are stupid, girls are crazy. And he can pretend he's not upset all he wants to ~ as I told him last night, I saw the expression on his face when he got off the phone. At one point, I just wrapped my arms around him, kissed the top of his head (the patented Pobble Panacea when nothing can fix, help or remedy a situation) and said "Oh my dear friend."
His response was to stiffen and say "Don't pity me."
The vehemence of my response surprised me. See, I find pity an incredibly insulting and disrespectful emotion. I cannot respect someone I pity. I cannot feel respected by someone who pities me. Yet, I hurt with my friends when they are hurting and I appreciate when my friends hurt with me when I am hurting.
After my short, if empassioned, diatribe, he relaxed again, put his head on my shoulder and said "Okay, I'll take your compassion."
And so many cogs fell into place for me. For thirteen years, I worked human services with some truly desperate clients. Something in me always resented some of the volunteers but not others. For my entire adult life, I have worked with teenagers, trying to teach them to be gentle with each other (no mean feat if you remember the politics of teen years.) Some, I knew got it ~ others just didn't somehow, eventhough every other adult thought they had. The word I have always used was "respect" though that wasn't quite right either. I intuitively knew what I wanted to express; I just couldn't find the right words.
However, P. C., in his frustration and hurt, got the semantics in one. He handed me the words I have always searched for without being able to fully express: compassion v. pity. Is it any wonder I hurt for and with my friend but would never pity him?
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Monday, August 07, 2006
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Atmospheric Train Wreck
I am obsessed with the nation's weather right now. Weather.com has become my addiction. I don't want to look but I can't quite look away. It's hot. It's crazy, mad, wicked hot.
Yes, there is a cooling trend on the way. Yes, it has even already gotten to the west coast. But right now, here on the east coast ~ it's hot. Current actual temp here in Worcester right now is 94 and the heat index is 106. I grew up in the south. I don't care which side of the Mason Dixon line you're on. 106 is hot.
Next week, I'm going to be in California. There are three different places it is reasonable for me to expect I will be spending evenings. So I check their ten-day forecasts in order to start planning what laundry needs to be done. The highs are pretty similar. The lows ~ the expected evening temperatures ~ are 79, 75 and...43. Wait. What? 43? Forty-three? As in 11 degrees above freezing 43? Now, I get how I'm supposed to pack for seven days of 43. And I get how I'm supposed to pack for five days of 79 and 75. But how the hell am I supposed to pack for twelve days of 79 and 43? And to think, I had images of only using one suitcase. Silly Pobble.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Yes, there is a cooling trend on the way. Yes, it has even already gotten to the west coast. But right now, here on the east coast ~ it's hot. Current actual temp here in Worcester right now is 94 and the heat index is 106. I grew up in the south. I don't care which side of the Mason Dixon line you're on. 106 is hot.
Next week, I'm going to be in California. There are three different places it is reasonable for me to expect I will be spending evenings. So I check their ten-day forecasts in order to start planning what laundry needs to be done. The highs are pretty similar. The lows ~ the expected evening temperatures ~ are 79, 75 and...43. Wait. What? 43? Forty-three? As in 11 degrees above freezing 43? Now, I get how I'm supposed to pack for seven days of 43. And I get how I'm supposed to pack for five days of 79 and 75. But how the hell am I supposed to pack for twelve days of 79 and 43? And to think, I had images of only using one suitcase. Silly Pobble.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
An Unhappy Shout-Out
There are things I don't understand happening in the world. Things that are making me angry, tired, sad, frightened, confused... And I don't understand them. I will read everything I can get my hands on ~ I won't understand them. I will listen to anyone who has an opinion ~ I won't understand them. I may even come to understand the politics well enough that I pick a side ~ and I won't understand the things that are happening.
So, I offer you these, my dear cyberfriends. Four blogs. Two from inside Lebanon and two from inside Israel. I make no claims as to which is true ~ or even"truer". I do not claim to know enough to take a side. I can't even promise you they are good blogs. I found them in a google search and nothing more. I do know that these are voices from people who are living...horror.
Beruit Live
Boker Tov, Boulder
Hashmonean
Kerblog
As always, comments are welcome. Respectful discourse and intelligent disagreements will always have a home here. Freedom of speech and all that. Any comments that drift ~ or explode ~ into name calling (or worse) will be deleted. The world is already at war. Let's not open up a Pobble Thought front. Thank you.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
So, I offer you these, my dear cyberfriends. Four blogs. Two from inside Lebanon and two from inside Israel. I make no claims as to which is true ~ or even"truer". I do not claim to know enough to take a side. I can't even promise you they are good blogs. I found them in a google search and nothing more. I do know that these are voices from people who are living...horror.
As always, comments are welcome. Respectful discourse and intelligent disagreements will always have a home here. Freedom of speech and all that. Any comments that drift ~ or explode ~ into name calling (or worse) will be deleted. The world is already at war. Let's not open up a Pobble Thought front. Thank you.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Monday, July 31, 2006
The Boggart in my Cupboard
If you know the Harry Potter series, you understand the title of this post. If you don't (shame on you!), a boggart is a creature that takes the form of whatever its victims fear most, thus incapacitating the person completely. The counter to it is to think of something funny to turn the boggart into and shout Riddikulus! My boggart would appear something like this:
Screaming at me that, in spite of the city apartment, in spite of the streak, the tatt, the cool clothes, the cocky attitude, the high heels...the truth is I am actually banished to suburbia where I must return to being a housewife, wear sweater sets, loafers and be in bed by eleven o'clock every evening. Turn everything in; you're not allowed to live the cool life you want and have built. Someone in middle management lost a memo and got you confused with another woman and now she wants her life back.
Don't get me wrong. I am not, in any way, criticizing people who live that way. For some, it is the ideal and living my life would make them miserable. I do not wish that on anyone. It just isn't my life. Or, at least, not one I can live for very long. It's just that every now and then, I'm just a little...shocked...that it has all come together so well. That's when I start looking for that boggart.
Riddikulus!
HA!
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Screaming at me that, in spite of the city apartment, in spite of the streak, the tatt, the cool clothes, the cocky attitude, the high heels...the truth is I am actually banished to suburbia where I must return to being a housewife, wear sweater sets, loafers and be in bed by eleven o'clock every evening. Turn everything in; you're not allowed to live the cool life you want and have built. Someone in middle management lost a memo and got you confused with another woman and now she wants her life back.
Don't get me wrong. I am not, in any way, criticizing people who live that way. For some, it is the ideal and living my life would make them miserable. I do not wish that on anyone. It just isn't my life. Or, at least, not one I can live for very long. It's just that every now and then, I'm just a little...shocked...that it has all come together so well. That's when I start looking for that boggart.
Riddikulus!
HA!
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Recipe Sunday
Jumping on the recipe bandwagon (and it is still Sunday somewhere plus I haven't been to bed yet so it works for me), I have discovered the recipe for an unexpectedly good Saturday night when one's plans change at the last minute.
1. Start with your favorite rum
2. Add two trays of ice and your favorite daiquiri mix. Blend well.
3. Rent all three of the movies that were made after the mediocre success of the first one.
4. Grab puppies and snuggle down.
Popcorn and amazing, potentially life-changing phone call from a favorite nephew optional. It was truly delightful.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
1. Start with your favorite rum
2. Add two trays of ice and your favorite daiquiri mix. Blend well.
3. Rent all three of the movies that were made after the mediocre success of the first one.
4. Grab puppies and snuggle down.
Popcorn and amazing, potentially life-changing phone call from a favorite nephew optional. It was truly delightful.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Sunday, July 30, 2006
My Heart
Check him out...
Remember his face. One of these days, you'll know his name. He just won a national competition, signed a manager and two different agents. Apparently, the boy can act.
Pride is a very insufficient word...
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Remember his face. One of these days, you'll know his name. He just won a national competition, signed a manager and two different agents. Apparently, the boy can act.
Pride is a very insufficient word...
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Love/Hate Relationships
I have love/hate relationships. This, however, is progress from my last post where the love part didn't enter into it at all. The best I could offer then was you-don't-make-me-want-to-beat-you-with-a-brick/hate relationships. So, we'll go with love/hate, be pleased with the progress and thank the Goddess this doesn't happen every month.
1. Tampons. Now, I love tampons. Tampons are the reason I wouldn't want to live in any other time period. But by the end of the week... damn.
2. Butterfly Boy. Since the conversation where he said we could only be friends, he has: told me he checks online nearly every night to look for me; stopped flirting completely; told me how much he loves hearing from me; and hasn't been online in a week without a word of explantion. Dude. The Divine M was right; this guy really is my male counterpart. What do you want to bet I would end up on his list of love/hate relationships, too.
3. The Pobble Mobile. The Pobble Mobile is a rag-top, unairconditioned jeep wrangler. It is hot in the summer, cold in the winter and always noisy. But she's mine, free and clear. She gets me where I need to go, even in bad weather. Still, when it's hot like it is now...I really wish she was a sedan.
4. Talking. God, I hate talking. I don't mean chatting or catching up. I mean talking. As in "We need to talk." As in "Can I talk to you about something?" As in "Why are you so worried about me really?" As in "What happened between us?" As in "Who are you trying to protect, me...or you?" The problem is I also understand how important it is, how vital. My father was a professor of communication most of my life, for God's sake. But damn, whichever end I'm on, I hate talking.
5. My pens. (A quick aside, especially for GoodNightGirl ~ this doesn't apply to my fountain pens!!!) I love my pens. I write a long hand first draft more often than not. They are everywhere ~ my car, my desk, my calendars, every room in my house, tucked behind my ear or into my hair. Hell, I even have one by my tub, just in case. So why the hell can I never find one when I need one?!?
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee, to sip on while you wait for this week to finally be freakin' over!
1. Tampons. Now, I love tampons. Tampons are the reason I wouldn't want to live in any other time period. But by the end of the week... damn.
2. Butterfly Boy. Since the conversation where he said we could only be friends, he has: told me he checks online nearly every night to look for me; stopped flirting completely; told me how much he loves hearing from me; and hasn't been online in a week without a word of explantion. Dude. The Divine M was right; this guy really is my male counterpart. What do you want to bet I would end up on his list of love/hate relationships, too.
3. The Pobble Mobile. The Pobble Mobile is a rag-top, unairconditioned jeep wrangler. It is hot in the summer, cold in the winter and always noisy. But she's mine, free and clear. She gets me where I need to go, even in bad weather. Still, when it's hot like it is now...I really wish she was a sedan.
4. Talking. God, I hate talking. I don't mean chatting or catching up. I mean talking. As in "We need to talk." As in "Can I talk to you about something?" As in "Why are you so worried about me really?" As in "What happened between us?" As in "Who are you trying to protect, me...or you?" The problem is I also understand how important it is, how vital. My father was a professor of communication most of my life, for God's sake. But damn, whichever end I'm on, I hate talking.
5. My pens. (A quick aside, especially for GoodNightGirl ~ this doesn't apply to my fountain pens!!!) I love my pens. I write a long hand first draft more often than not. They are everywhere ~ my car, my desk, my calendars, every room in my house, tucked behind my ear or into my hair. Hell, I even have one by my tub, just in case. So why the hell can I never find one when I need one?!?
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee, to sip on while you wait for this week to finally be freakin' over!
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Hand Over the Brownies and No One Will Get Hurt
I have PMS. Boy howdy, do I. Have. PMS. This means I am fat, ugly, unlovable and totally friendless. This is okay though because it also means I am incapable of loving anyone or anything, pissed at the world, and don't want any friends. It all works out nicely. (And please ~ don't try to counter this right now. Today it will just piss me off; tomorrow it will be irrelevant.)
The Lovely Cats, lucky woman that she is, is coming to visit today. You envy her, don't you? I knew you did.
Here are a handful of things that have pissed me off in the last 12 hours or so:
~ saying one thing and doing another. Don't tell me everything is fine and then change your behavior completely. That means everything is not fine. Grow a pair and tell me. Asshole.
~ negligent parents. I am backing out of my driveway. You are watching me do so. Get your child out of the fucking road.
~ blaming me. Don't whine to me that we haven't seen each other recently when you haven't initiated contact with me in months.
~ poor manners. I could give a shit which fork you use. But how about treating other people with a modicum of respect. She is your server, not your servant. And the occasional "please" or "thank you" won't cause your tongue to jump out of your mouth.
~ dating. God, I hate dating. What's wrong with emotional constipation? What's wrong with having intimacy issues? Who the fuck needs growth anyway? This self-awareness crap is really over-rated.
And on that note, I'm going to go crawl in a hole and growl at people as they pass by.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
The Lovely Cats, lucky woman that she is, is coming to visit today. You envy her, don't you? I knew you did.
Here are a handful of things that have pissed me off in the last 12 hours or so:
~ saying one thing and doing another. Don't tell me everything is fine and then change your behavior completely. That means everything is not fine. Grow a pair and tell me. Asshole.
~ negligent parents. I am backing out of my driveway. You are watching me do so. Get your child out of the fucking road.
~ blaming me. Don't whine to me that we haven't seen each other recently when you haven't initiated contact with me in months.
~ poor manners. I could give a shit which fork you use. But how about treating other people with a modicum of respect. She is your server, not your servant. And the occasional "please" or "thank you" won't cause your tongue to jump out of your mouth.
~ dating. God, I hate dating. What's wrong with emotional constipation? What's wrong with having intimacy issues? Who the fuck needs growth anyway? This self-awareness crap is really over-rated.
And on that note, I'm going to go crawl in a hole and growl at people as they pass by.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Reposting The Actors' Studio
A friend is bored and requested a blog post. I'm busy so don't have time to do her justice ~ and I wanted to help out anyway. Therefore! I am reposting my favorite quiz-thingy. This comes from the t.v. show Inside the Actors' Studio. Feel free to consider yourself tagged, leave an answer or two in my comments section, or ignore this completely. :) At least everybody has something new to read now...
1. What is your favorite word? both, followed closely by yes
2. What is your least favorite word? wrong
3. What turns you on, creatively, spiritually or emotionally? intelligence
4. What turns you off? unearned arrogance
5. What is your favorite curse word? fuck and all the derivatives thereof
6. What sound or noise do you love? wind through trees
7. What sound or noise do you hate? any being in pain, emotionally or physically (ok, and that really annoying person who thinks it's okay to start yelling because s/he's drunk at 3 a.m.)
8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? casting agent
9. What profession would you not like to do? garbage collector or hygiene assistant
10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? They're over there; just follow the singing.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee (and hopefully make your day go a little faster, too!)
1. What is your favorite word? both, followed closely by yes
2. What is your least favorite word? wrong
3. What turns you on, creatively, spiritually or emotionally? intelligence
4. What turns you off? unearned arrogance
5. What is your favorite curse word? fuck and all the derivatives thereof
6. What sound or noise do you love? wind through trees
7. What sound or noise do you hate? any being in pain, emotionally or physically (ok, and that really annoying person who thinks it's okay to start yelling because s/he's drunk at 3 a.m.)
8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? casting agent
9. What profession would you not like to do? garbage collector or hygiene assistant
10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? They're over there; just follow the singing.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee (and hopefully make your day go a little faster, too!)
Monday, July 24, 2006
Holy Yearly Recap, Batman!
I just realized that, as of last Thursday, I have been blogging for a year. And an interesting year it's been, too...
July 2005:
~ The Pobble Who Had No Toes made its first official appearance; things were coming to a head with my divorce and my biofamily. It got nastier but made me stronger and gave me relationships I could trust and depend on. And it got me blogging.
August 2005:
~ The Lovely Cats, the Divine M, and the Muppet all made their first appearances here; I clicked on "next blog" because I was bored and was given the blessings of the Mad Gay Housewife (who I still miss and still have linked ~ anybody know anything?), CrackerLilo, the Butler, Hirkaru and, of course, my beloved DonDon009; New Orleans imploded; I traveled to Chicago and the Basement; broke up with the ex; and was luckily enough to recognize a favorite lyric from a favorite show and meet a favorite person
September 2005:
~ Rita hit; I broke my foot; a friend decided the pain was too much and put a gun to his head; I "celebrated" my last wedding anniversary; and sold my books (TTG for that last one ~ September was kinda depressing, huh?)
October 2005:
~ I celebrated my birthday for the whole month; my blog friends rallied around my reality friend who was a victim of a hate crime; I loved living and being in Boston; and sadly made the decision to move to Worcester
November 2005:
~ Back to the Basement and face to face time with Jaded; the Woo move; and a visit with my Dear One
December 2005:
~ Tookie Williams was executed; my clothes started to get too big; I Want a Hippopotomus for Christmas got stuck in my head (aren't you glad I mentioned that one!); and the holidays were delightful
January 2006:
~ Lionel and Daisy came into my life and inadvertantly brought along SpiderGirl, Tai and Wolfgrrrl; my first book showed up on Amazon and I actually finished the damn thing
February 2006:
~ My Heart came for a visit; NYC got record snows; my mother started getting a clue; the SGM was an ass; and I outted myself as a slob and a lover of Brian Dennehy (and have now spent some time mulling over that particular post, I admit it)
March 2006:
~ Once more into the Basement, dear friends, this time with pictures as the Pobble makes her first appearance on her own blog; the Lovely Cats had a birthday; and I started an interesting round robin about the hierarchies and categories of sex
April 2006:
~ I went into an episode but managed to control it; moved dirt; started posting on the porn store; and met Yahoo Billy (ah...Yahoo Billy...)
May 2006:
~ you know, May was an interesting month... not sure I can sum that one up. which doesn't suck if you think about it. :) It did include a visit from my Dear One; the use of the word "cunt"; clean lung x-rays; a great debate on scary; the discovery of Aisha T, Zoom and Krystal; and finding friends in unexpected places
June 2006:
~ I held my book in my hands; I lost the One in VA; I spent over an hour on the phone with Dondon009; the tat, the streak, the t-shirt and the Pobble all showed up online; I made my deadline for the current book; and I started to heal...
And that's the way it was. I have "met" truly, truly amazing people (and if I didn't mention you specifically, please don't be offended! It simply means I don't remember the exact month you showed up in my life/blog!) Thanks for coming along and sticking around for the ride. Shall we do it again? :):):)
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
July 2005:
~ The Pobble Who Had No Toes made its first official appearance; things were coming to a head with my divorce and my biofamily. It got nastier but made me stronger and gave me relationships I could trust and depend on. And it got me blogging.
August 2005:
~ The Lovely Cats, the Divine M, and the Muppet all made their first appearances here; I clicked on "next blog" because I was bored and was given the blessings of the Mad Gay Housewife (who I still miss and still have linked ~ anybody know anything?), CrackerLilo, the Butler, Hirkaru and, of course, my beloved DonDon009; New Orleans imploded; I traveled to Chicago and the Basement; broke up with the ex; and was luckily enough to recognize a favorite lyric from a favorite show and meet a favorite person
September 2005:
~ Rita hit; I broke my foot; a friend decided the pain was too much and put a gun to his head; I "celebrated" my last wedding anniversary; and sold my books (TTG for that last one ~ September was kinda depressing, huh?)
October 2005:
~ I celebrated my birthday for the whole month; my blog friends rallied around my reality friend who was a victim of a hate crime; I loved living and being in Boston; and sadly made the decision to move to Worcester
November 2005:
~ Back to the Basement and face to face time with Jaded; the Woo move; and a visit with my Dear One
December 2005:
~ Tookie Williams was executed; my clothes started to get too big; I Want a Hippopotomus for Christmas got stuck in my head (aren't you glad I mentioned that one!); and the holidays were delightful
January 2006:
~ Lionel and Daisy came into my life and inadvertantly brought along SpiderGirl, Tai and Wolfgrrrl; my first book showed up on Amazon and I actually finished the damn thing
February 2006:
~ My Heart came for a visit; NYC got record snows; my mother started getting a clue; the SGM was an ass; and I outted myself as a slob and a lover of Brian Dennehy (and have now spent some time mulling over that particular post, I admit it)
March 2006:
~ Once more into the Basement, dear friends, this time with pictures as the Pobble makes her first appearance on her own blog; the Lovely Cats had a birthday; and I started an interesting round robin about the hierarchies and categories of sex
April 2006:
~ I went into an episode but managed to control it; moved dirt; started posting on the porn store; and met Yahoo Billy (ah...Yahoo Billy...)
May 2006:
~ you know, May was an interesting month... not sure I can sum that one up. which doesn't suck if you think about it. :) It did include a visit from my Dear One; the use of the word "cunt"; clean lung x-rays; a great debate on scary; the discovery of Aisha T, Zoom and Krystal; and finding friends in unexpected places
June 2006:
~ I held my book in my hands; I lost the One in VA; I spent over an hour on the phone with Dondon009; the tat, the streak, the t-shirt and the Pobble all showed up online; I made my deadline for the current book; and I started to heal...
And that's the way it was. I have "met" truly, truly amazing people (and if I didn't mention you specifically, please don't be offended! It simply means I don't remember the exact month you showed up in my life/blog!) Thanks for coming along and sticking around for the ride. Shall we do it again? :):):)
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Sunday, July 23, 2006
Weekend Ramblings
1. I have a loveseat in my kitchen. The last thing my most recent ex did for me was break my futon. Only he didn't tell me he broke the futon so I didn't realize it until a few months ago when the Muppet and Peaches spent the night ~ and literally rolled out of bed. So, I ordered a loveseat. This one, only in crushed red velvet. 
The place I bought it custom makes them so it has taken this long to get it. Last Monday, they called and told me they would be delivering on Tuesday. Oooops. I didn't have time to get the futon out of the spare room. Now, I have a broken futon in my guest room and a loveseat in my kitchen. This will be remedied by the end of the week but for now, Lionel and Daisy are more than a little confused.
2. A couple people have asked about the post where I had the knee-jerk reaction about JMB. If you missed it and need further clarification, it can be found here:
JMB Explanation
3. I'm working out again. What makes this blog-worthy is it also means I am eating again. :) My doctor told me to cut back on the formal workouts, focusing on simply being active in life, until I started eating again. Guess what??? :):):):) My body has that wonderful, achy, well-used feeling that I love so much and miss when I can't work out.
4. I went on a date last week. A real, official, meet-the-guy-for-dinner date. It was very nice. We met in Boston for tapas. No butterflies ~ but a really nice guy. Got caught several blocks from the Pobble Mobile in a major thunderstorm so I was a drowned rat (in a white tank top ~ ooops) by the time I got under cover. Still, that just added to the fun. And we like dating, right? Right.
5. I'm heading to California next month. The latest book is kicking my ass and I need some face to face time with my collaborator. I'll spend a week in Tahoe with my mother, her husband, and my biological sister and her family before heading down to L.A. for five days to visit one of my oldest, dearest friends, blow off steam and have a bit of a vacation before heading back east and getting back to work. While in Tahoe, the local bookstore wants me to come in a sign a bunch of the books; the library wants me to come in a do...something; and the advanced English high school teacher wants me to come talk with her summer school students. This just keeps getting curiouser and curiouser.
6. And speaking of curiouser, Butterfly Boy has offered me a day on his beach while I am in L.A. We're going to meet. It will be nice to meet my friend. And yes, we are friends and I am well aware that we are just friends. I'll keep you posted ~ on all of it.
The place I bought it custom makes them so it has taken this long to get it. Last Monday, they called and told me they would be delivering on Tuesday. Oooops. I didn't have time to get the futon out of the spare room. Now, I have a broken futon in my guest room and a loveseat in my kitchen. This will be remedied by the end of the week but for now, Lionel and Daisy are more than a little confused.
2. A couple people have asked about the post where I had the knee-jerk reaction about JMB. If you missed it and need further clarification, it can be found here:
3. I'm working out again. What makes this blog-worthy is it also means I am eating again. :) My doctor told me to cut back on the formal workouts, focusing on simply being active in life, until I started eating again. Guess what??? :):):):) My body has that wonderful, achy, well-used feeling that I love so much and miss when I can't work out.
4. I went on a date last week. A real, official, meet-the-guy-for-dinner date. It was very nice. We met in Boston for tapas. No butterflies ~ but a really nice guy. Got caught several blocks from the Pobble Mobile in a major thunderstorm so I was a drowned rat (in a white tank top ~ ooops) by the time I got under cover. Still, that just added to the fun. And we like dating, right? Right.
5. I'm heading to California next month. The latest book is kicking my ass and I need some face to face time with my collaborator. I'll spend a week in Tahoe with my mother, her husband, and my biological sister and her family before heading down to L.A. for five days to visit one of my oldest, dearest friends, blow off steam and have a bit of a vacation before heading back east and getting back to work. While in Tahoe, the local bookstore wants me to come in a sign a bunch of the books; the library wants me to come in a do...something; and the advanced English high school teacher wants me to come talk with her summer school students. This just keeps getting curiouser and curiouser.
6. And speaking of curiouser, Butterfly Boy has offered me a day on his beach while I am in L.A. We're going to meet. It will be nice to meet my friend. And yes, we are friends and I am well aware that we are just friends. I'll keep you posted ~ on all of it.
7. In previous posts, I have mulled over the difference between a female friend and a Girlfriend. Female friends are wonderful, don't get me wrong. But then there are your Girlfriends. I still can't explain what takes a woman from one to the other. I'm not even 100% sure what the difference is ~ or at least know I can't verbalize it. You either understand it instinctively or you don't. I do know that BegoniaGraziella has made that transition. Over the past several months, we have gone from nodding to each other and passing pleasantries, to hanging out some, to definitely being friends, to being Girlfriends. Considering I moved to Worcester with the expectation of keeping my head down, getting my work done, and traveling into Boston (or Philly or Connecticut or wherever) in order to hang with my friends, this is a delightful surprise. I'm a lucky, lucky woman.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.Saturday, July 22, 2006
Truck? What Truck?
Wolfgrrrl had this test up on her site. As I was bored (and, okay, I love these things; they are my guilty pleasure), I decided to take it. If you don't understand why this is so amazingly funny, delightful and unsurprising, be sure to check out this month's post from July 5th entitled Pobble Songs
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
And God Smiled...
Today is the Divine M's birthday. I will leave it up to her to tell people how old she is. ;)
So, happy birthday, my dearest friend. The world is a better place for your presence in it. I love you.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you a Pepsi.
So, happy birthday, my dearest friend. The world is a better place for your presence in it. I love you.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you a Pepsi.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Adjusting
Earlier tonight, I was on the phone with a person I had met at Nemeria's wedding when my call waiting beeped. I quickly looked at the caller i.d. and saw it was BioSis. I ignored the call and kept talking. When the phone call was over, I checked my messages. The message went something like this (okay, it went exactly like this):
Pobble? Did I lose you? No, I got your machine. ... Oh God. ... I can't talk.
And then silence.
I returned her call. She had been in a dressing room of a department store, had a question and her cell phone died on her. Nothing major, totally innocuous. And she had had little enough signal that she wasn't even sure if she was leaving a message or not.
However, my immediate reaction upon hearing the message was JMB! He's back. Then I remembered he was dead.
Goddess forgive me, I'm glad.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Pobble? Did I lose you? No, I got your machine. ... Oh God. ... I can't talk.
And then silence.
I returned her call. She had been in a dressing room of a department store, had a question and her cell phone died on her. Nothing major, totally innocuous. And she had had little enough signal that she wasn't even sure if she was leaving a message or not.
However, my immediate reaction upon hearing the message was JMB! He's back. Then I remembered he was dead.
Goddess forgive me, I'm glad.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Playing Hooky is Good for the Soul
BegoniaGraziella invited me to be the fourth on a trip to WaterCountry in New Hampshire today. Two of her other friends, who I know and like, had decided we should all take the day off from work and go play. Not having ever been to a water park as an adult, I wasn't sure what to expect. Not being much of a water lover, I wasn't sure what to expect. And knowing that I burn in about three seconds flat, I was afraid I knew exactly what to expect.
I am relaxed in a way I haven't been in a month. I am delightfully tired. And thanks to liberal and regular applications of SPF 45, I am tan, tan, tan. We had a great day. We talked and laughed and took goofy pictures. And the three of them didn't even mind when the introvert of the group needed to simply sit in the shade and read Harry Potter for a bit after having been surrounded by crowds for five hours.
A friend has been telling me for nearly a month now that I needed to take a mental health day. And I've been telling him I couldn't for this reason or that reason or the other reason. Today, I had no choice. I couldn't work; everything was too wet. It simply wasn't an option. I didn't drive so I couldn't cut the day short in order to get back to my computer. Once I had made the decision to go, there was nothing to do but let myself be there in the moment and enjoy it. So that's what I did.
Playing hooky is definitely good for the soul.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
I am relaxed in a way I haven't been in a month. I am delightfully tired. And thanks to liberal and regular applications of SPF 45, I am tan, tan, tan. We had a great day. We talked and laughed and took goofy pictures. And the three of them didn't even mind when the introvert of the group needed to simply sit in the shade and read Harry Potter for a bit after having been surrounded by crowds for five hours.
A friend has been telling me for nearly a month now that I needed to take a mental health day. And I've been telling him I couldn't for this reason or that reason or the other reason. Today, I had no choice. I couldn't work; everything was too wet. It simply wasn't an option. I didn't drive so I couldn't cut the day short in order to get back to my computer. Once I had made the decision to go, there was nothing to do but let myself be there in the moment and enjoy it. So that's what I did.
Playing hooky is definitely good for the soul.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Sunday, July 16, 2006
A Final Post on Love
Here's what it looks like, in case you were wondering...
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Saturday, July 15, 2006
A Drive By Tagging
SO! Zoom didn't really tag me. She didn't really tag anybody. And I don't usually post twice in a day. HOWEVER! A very special person is having a hard day and needs reading material. This seemed like a good way to help him out just a little bit.
Therefore, without further ado because I know you are all just too excited about reading this...
The Pobble's Five Things Tag!
5 Things in my Purse:
Already I'm causing problems. I don't carry a purse. Hm... How about 5 Things in the Little Wallet-Thingy I Do Carry Because I Gotta Keep Shit Somewhere. That works.
5 Things in the Little Wallet-Thingy I Do Carry Because I Gotta Keep Shit Somewhere.
1. Cash. This is dwindling right now to a lone, limp, raggedy single one dollar bill.
2. A silver dollar. My grandfather, Papa, carried it with him. It went from his wallet into mine and has been with me ever since.
3. The Lovely Cats' business card. She's my emergency contact so if I get hit by a bus, they'll call her.
4. Quarters for parking meters. Parking meters no longer accept anything but quarters up here. This is just wrong on many, many levels.
5. Two fortunes from fortune cookies. The last two times Peaches and I have gone out in Boston, it has been to one particular Chinese restaurant. My fortunes read: You have an unusally magnetic personality and You are a bundle of energy, always on the go. I decided I liked them and kept them.
5 Things in my Fridge:
1. Half and half for my coffee. If there is ever a day when this isn't in my fridge, something has gone very badly in my world.
2. Something that looks like it was once take-out or delivery or something. I'm not willing to explore further.
3. Tortillas. These are comfort food for me. With my appetite the way it is recently, it's been nice to have these around.
4. Ghiredelli (sp?) chocolates. Too hot to leave 'em out and, for once in my life, I actually have them left over longer than the usual 17.4 seconds it takes me to go through a bag.
5. Girl beer. I can't stand beer. But I don't always want a mixed drink. Instead, I keep Hard Mike's or Smirnoff around. This is what the Muppet calls "girl beer." Currently, I have both in my fridge. (hmmm...and it's Saturday night...) Lime flavored by chance.
5 Things in my Closet:
1. Um...clothes. Or is that too much of a no-brainer?
2. Boots. Several pair. In fact, had I wanted to, I simply could have listed off five different pair of boots and been done with it. And not come close to listing all of them.
3. My ritual robes. I don't worship skyclad.
4. Hmmm... I'm causing problems again. My closet is really very boring apparently.
5. Carpeting. Re-read #4.
5 Things in the Pobble Mobile:
1. Pens. I have pens everywhere.
2. Change for tolls. Going into Boston, I need bills but heading to the Blackbelts' house, I need change.
3. An EZ-Pass. Again, to visit the Lovely Cats. I drive there; she pays my tolls.
4. Napkins from Dunkin Donuts. I go through their drive thru a lot. Every time, I get napkins. Every time, I put them in the compartment between the front seats. I could paper the world.
5. Three unpaid parking tickets. Yeah, I know...
There you have it. I'm not tagging anyone specifically but feel free to help yourself. Especially if you, like many of us out here, are feeling a bit blog-stuck in the heat of summer.
Those are Pobble Thoughts ~ with a little help from Zoom. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Therefore, without further ado because I know you are all just too excited about reading this...
The Pobble's Five Things Tag!
5 Things in my Purse:
Already I'm causing problems. I don't carry a purse. Hm... How about 5 Things in the Little Wallet-Thingy I Do Carry Because I Gotta Keep Shit Somewhere. That works.
5 Things in the Little Wallet-Thingy I Do Carry Because I Gotta Keep Shit Somewhere.
1. Cash. This is dwindling right now to a lone, limp, raggedy single one dollar bill.
2. A silver dollar. My grandfather, Papa, carried it with him. It went from his wallet into mine and has been with me ever since.
3. The Lovely Cats' business card. She's my emergency contact so if I get hit by a bus, they'll call her.
4. Quarters for parking meters. Parking meters no longer accept anything but quarters up here. This is just wrong on many, many levels.
5. Two fortunes from fortune cookies. The last two times Peaches and I have gone out in Boston, it has been to one particular Chinese restaurant. My fortunes read: You have an unusally magnetic personality and You are a bundle of energy, always on the go. I decided I liked them and kept them.
5 Things in my Fridge:
1. Half and half for my coffee. If there is ever a day when this isn't in my fridge, something has gone very badly in my world.
2. Something that looks like it was once take-out or delivery or something. I'm not willing to explore further.
3. Tortillas. These are comfort food for me. With my appetite the way it is recently, it's been nice to have these around.
4. Ghiredelli (sp?) chocolates. Too hot to leave 'em out and, for once in my life, I actually have them left over longer than the usual 17.4 seconds it takes me to go through a bag.
5. Girl beer. I can't stand beer. But I don't always want a mixed drink. Instead, I keep Hard Mike's or Smirnoff around. This is what the Muppet calls "girl beer." Currently, I have both in my fridge. (hmmm...and it's Saturday night...) Lime flavored by chance.
5 Things in my Closet:
1. Um...clothes. Or is that too much of a no-brainer?
2. Boots. Several pair. In fact, had I wanted to, I simply could have listed off five different pair of boots and been done with it. And not come close to listing all of them.
3. My ritual robes. I don't worship skyclad.
4. Hmmm... I'm causing problems again. My closet is really very boring apparently.
5. Carpeting. Re-read #4.
5 Things in the Pobble Mobile:
1. Pens. I have pens everywhere.
2. Change for tolls. Going into Boston, I need bills but heading to the Blackbelts' house, I need change.
3. An EZ-Pass. Again, to visit the Lovely Cats. I drive there; she pays my tolls.
4. Napkins from Dunkin Donuts. I go through their drive thru a lot. Every time, I get napkins. Every time, I put them in the compartment between the front seats. I could paper the world.
5. Three unpaid parking tickets. Yeah, I know...
There you have it. I'm not tagging anyone specifically but feel free to help yourself. Especially if you, like many of us out here, are feeling a bit blog-stuck in the heat of summer.
Those are Pobble Thoughts ~ with a little help from Zoom. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Horoscopes I Can Get Behind
Libra
According to Western astrology, I'm a Libra. And very much so: Diplomatic and urbane; Romantic and charming; Easygoing and sociable; Idealistic and peaceable. On the dark side....Indecisive and changeable; Gullible and easily infuenced; Flirtatious and self-indulgentAccording to Chinese astrology, I'm a Rooster.
Rooster
Just see here: Rooster is very straightforward and rewards others' honesty in kind. If you show your hand, the Rooster will respect you for it. Being noticed and admired is an aphrodisiac for Roosters, and they can go a long time on a few kind words. Roosters also adore being out on the town.According to West African astrology (my favorite), I'm the Traveler.
The Traveler
Infinitely so: The character of those of you born under this sign comprises a marvelous mix of fluctuation and permanence. You have a twofold destiny. Your departure makes your village sad but also very hopeful. So you can expect that your arrival in a new place will raise both fear and admiration. More sentitive than you can bear to be, you must rely on your intuition and go on without illusion. Thus, reconciling your outward and inner travels, you will know how to temper your affections and limit your movements to what is strictly necessary.HOWEVER! According to BegoniaGraziella's horoscope, I am this:
Courtesean
Let the games begin! Libra will try anything once. Twice to make sure they liked it. Three times to be absolutely sure. Libras are mental creatures that believe in living and fulfilling fantasies that they haven't done in real life...which is rare because they have done almost EVERYTHING. They are accident prone, they lose bras, underware, condoms....they also accidentally end up in bed with people. Amazing how THAT works! They are never just ONE sex. They can always feel what the opposite sex feels. Which is why they are rarely clingy, except in rare circumstances when they have been led on, then watch the manipulative side of the scales swing. Who are they really? It depends on what day of the week it is. They believe that life is too short to date ugly people in more ways than one. So if you are being shagged by a Libra, there is a good reason. Whether you are attractive physically, emotionally, mentally or have a fantastic sense of humor, there is always a reason for a Libra to be fucking you. But they HATE vulgarity. They despise feeling like they are on a waiting list to get your attention...worse yet, feeling like they are your groupie. That won't last long, then. But, if you get past all that, expect long luxurious nights talking and playing Strip Tarot or Naked Chess. They are the Graceful Slut...but not slutty and yet accident prone. They are the eternal Courtesan or Concubine. They are sex therapists, porn writers who knows?And according to Buttrrflyy's horoscope, I am this: Libras gave birth to the term "shopaholic". These folks have every credit card known to man. And while their taste is undeniably impeccable, it can get them in trouble at bankruptcy court. What's really at stake here is a quest for beauty. Enjoying simple but inexpensive pleasures like nature walks and museums can quell the urge to splurge.
shopaholic
Well now. I believe this is what is known as "being cut from whole cloth."
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
A Musical Interkude
Ass-Kicking Rock and Roll ~ After unknown number of trips to visit the Lovely Cats in Connecticut, I finally have found the radio stations to get me there. 104.1 WBCN from Boston gets me to I84 West with Nine Inch Nails, Pearl Jam, Ranconteurs, Chili Peppers...you get the idea. At the 84 exit, I pick up 106.9 out of Hartford. They bring on the metal. Then there's AC/DC and its ilk out of New Haven once I get off 84 from 99.1. The drive just got a hell of a lot more fun.
Muzak ~ As a general rule, I'm not much of an outdoorsy type o'gal. Because of this, I tend not to pay all that close attention to the change of season outside of a religious context. Logistically, summer is simply the time of year I switch out my black and earth-tone velvets and cashmeres for black and earth-tone cottons and linens. And even when I worked outside the home, I tended to take my vacations in autumn. So, imagine my surpise when I stopped at the rest area on the Pike on the way to the Lovely Cats' only to discover the place packed with people on their roadtrips and family vacations. In my rest area. That wasn't the biggest shock, though. The biggest shock was the musak. Apparently, during summertime, the Pike pipes bad, pseudo-calming music into the women's room. They might pipe it into the men's room as well. I don't know; I didn't check. However, walking into the rest area with AFI's Miss Murder in my head and switching to something that would have been too sweet for John Tesch was enough to strip my gears handily.
Girl Pop ~ Okay, so I don't know the official name of this type of music. Work with me. The Princess Kitten informed me that her favorite rock star was Hilary Duff. Being a good aunt, I managed not to heave right there in her lovely lavender room, nor lecture her on the difference between rock and ... whatever it is Hilary sings. Instead, I made slight corrections to her "rock moves" (tuck the thumb in when you are making that sign ~ again, whatever it is ~ with your fingers. Think devil horns, not ASL "I love you.") She is seven. In five more years, I'm introducing her to AC/DC. I'm the outrageous aunt. That's my job.
Hip-Hop ~ The purpose of today's drive was to see the Princess Kitten's dance recital. Wow. Eleven 6, 7 and 8 year olds all onstage, all listening to the same music, all watching the same teacher do the same moves...and not a one of them doing anything remotely like the child next to them. Looking with our hearts, these little ones were fly! Looking with our eyes ~ well, that was still worth the drive, just for different reasons. If you have never seen this, I highly recommend it.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Muzak ~ As a general rule, I'm not much of an outdoorsy type o'gal. Because of this, I tend not to pay all that close attention to the change of season outside of a religious context. Logistically, summer is simply the time of year I switch out my black and earth-tone velvets and cashmeres for black and earth-tone cottons and linens. And even when I worked outside the home, I tended to take my vacations in autumn. So, imagine my surpise when I stopped at the rest area on the Pike on the way to the Lovely Cats' only to discover the place packed with people on their roadtrips and family vacations. In my rest area. That wasn't the biggest shock, though. The biggest shock was the musak. Apparently, during summertime, the Pike pipes bad, pseudo-calming music into the women's room. They might pipe it into the men's room as well. I don't know; I didn't check. However, walking into the rest area with AFI's Miss Murder in my head and switching to something that would have been too sweet for John Tesch was enough to strip my gears handily.
Girl Pop ~ Okay, so I don't know the official name of this type of music. Work with me. The Princess Kitten informed me that her favorite rock star was Hilary Duff. Being a good aunt, I managed not to heave right there in her lovely lavender room, nor lecture her on the difference between rock and ... whatever it is Hilary sings. Instead, I made slight corrections to her "rock moves" (tuck the thumb in when you are making that sign ~ again, whatever it is ~ with your fingers. Think devil horns, not ASL "I love you.") She is seven. In five more years, I'm introducing her to AC/DC. I'm the outrageous aunt. That's my job.
Hip-Hop ~ The purpose of today's drive was to see the Princess Kitten's dance recital. Wow. Eleven 6, 7 and 8 year olds all onstage, all listening to the same music, all watching the same teacher do the same moves...and not a one of them doing anything remotely like the child next to them. Looking with our hearts, these little ones were fly! Looking with our eyes ~ well, that was still worth the drive, just for different reasons. If you have never seen this, I highly recommend it.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Wednesday, July 12, 2006
Bye, Bye Butterflies
Butterfly Boy just wants to be friends. Lots of heartbreak from being in the Navy (leave it to me to fall for a former Squid; even when I think they're accountants, there's military in there somewhere)... Long distance relationships that have ended badly...He's too guarded...We're great friends...I am valued...
It's interesting. I have been on the other side of this so often. I realize how carefully he chose his words. How delicately he chose to tread. I appreciate the care he took with me. Having been in his shoes before, I know it's not easy and I recognize when it's done well. He did it as well as it could have been done.
So I think I do have a friend. And, if his words were genuine (as I think ~ hope ~ they were) and not just platitudes, a pretty good one at that. Time will tell.
As the Divine M puts it, at least I can take solace in the fact that I have met my male counterpart in terms of being wary and guarded. Of course, it would have been nice had the person I risked lowering the guards for had been able to risk lowering his for me ~ but I'm selfish that way. :) The fact that he's right only helps so much. Long distance relationships, when neither one is able to relocate, end badly. Hell, my first instinct had been to simply Dear John him instead of asking him if what I was feeling was mututal because of the distance. Let's face it ~ he's scared the hell out of me. So I am proud of both of us for being so courageous. Me for asking and not just running. Him for answering ~ and still not running.
I didn't, however, have the courage to ask if things would be different if we were closer. Some questions, I don't want the answers to.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
It's interesting. I have been on the other side of this so often. I realize how carefully he chose his words. How delicately he chose to tread. I appreciate the care he took with me. Having been in his shoes before, I know it's not easy and I recognize when it's done well. He did it as well as it could have been done.
So I think I do have a friend. And, if his words were genuine (as I think ~ hope ~ they were) and not just platitudes, a pretty good one at that. Time will tell.
As the Divine M puts it, at least I can take solace in the fact that I have met my male counterpart in terms of being wary and guarded. Of course, it would have been nice had the person I risked lowering the guards for had been able to risk lowering his for me ~ but I'm selfish that way. :) The fact that he's right only helps so much. Long distance relationships, when neither one is able to relocate, end badly. Hell, my first instinct had been to simply Dear John him instead of asking him if what I was feeling was mututal because of the distance. Let's face it ~ he's scared the hell out of me. So I am proud of both of us for being so courageous. Me for asking and not just running. Him for answering ~ and still not running.
I didn't, however, have the courage to ask if things would be different if we were closer. Some questions, I don't want the answers to.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Love and Other Mushy Stuff
Recently, I have had several occasions to be thinking about, talking about, and mulling over love. Nemeria's wedding. The New York Supreme Court. Online dating. Begonia's relationship. Even JMB's death. What causes people to love? And why are people so nervous about it?
I have always felt that love was a gift. Even if it is not reciprocated ~ to be loved by another person... How special is that? It's a gift I don't think enough people appreciate, understand or value. Perhaps if we did, we could be more gentle with one another.
Our language doesn't account well for love either. I mean ~ "love." What does that mean? Sure, we differentiate between loving and being in love with but how easy is that to confuse? The phrase is still "I love you." I say that to my nephew and I said it to the SGM. I wrote it to appsrus earlier this evening, giggled it to the Divine M and whispered it to the puppies. My first words to Dondon009 (once I knew who he was) were "Oh my God, I love you so much." Yet eventhough I have butterflies for a certain person (Butterfly Boy, as Jaded dubbed him this evening), I am a long way from loving him. Loving is easy for me. Loving isn't. And how the hell are both of those statements truisms? The language fails us.
I love many, many people. Hell, odds are good that if I am in a relationship with you ~ whatever that relationship may be ~ I love you. Whatever it is that you bring to our relationship, if it's worth me keeping you around, it's worth me loving you for. Simplistic, perhaps, yet true for me. At the same time, I have only been in love a small number of times.
Over the years, I have learned to be careful with the phrase "I love you" because it does mean such different things to people. It makes people a little nervous ~ even if they know what I mean. I haven't said it to any of the guys I've met on my site, most of my fellow bloggers or several of my Girlfriends. It's too easily misconstrued, which makes people ... uncomfortable. Frankly, I think it's a shame. I think we need to be able to say "I love you" far more often. I think if we could recognize what a gift love truly is, it would be one we could share more often, be more comfortable expressing, be more comfortable accepting in and from others.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
I have always felt that love was a gift. Even if it is not reciprocated ~ to be loved by another person... How special is that? It's a gift I don't think enough people appreciate, understand or value. Perhaps if we did, we could be more gentle with one another.
Our language doesn't account well for love either. I mean ~ "love." What does that mean? Sure, we differentiate between loving and being in love with but how easy is that to confuse? The phrase is still "I love you." I say that to my nephew and I said it to the SGM. I wrote it to appsrus earlier this evening, giggled it to the Divine M and whispered it to the puppies. My first words to Dondon009 (once I knew who he was) were "Oh my God, I love you so much." Yet eventhough I have butterflies for a certain person (Butterfly Boy, as Jaded dubbed him this evening), I am a long way from loving him. Loving is easy for me. Loving isn't. And how the hell are both of those statements truisms? The language fails us.
I love many, many people. Hell, odds are good that if I am in a relationship with you ~ whatever that relationship may be ~ I love you. Whatever it is that you bring to our relationship, if it's worth me keeping you around, it's worth me loving you for. Simplistic, perhaps, yet true for me. At the same time, I have only been in love a small number of times.
Over the years, I have learned to be careful with the phrase "I love you" because it does mean such different things to people. It makes people a little nervous ~ even if they know what I mean. I haven't said it to any of the guys I've met on my site, most of my fellow bloggers or several of my Girlfriends. It's too easily misconstrued, which makes people ... uncomfortable. Frankly, I think it's a shame. I think we need to be able to say "I love you" far more often. I think if we could recognize what a gift love truly is, it would be one we could share more often, be more comfortable expressing, be more comfortable accepting in and from others.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Friday, July 07, 2006
...and I Cried 'Cause I Felt Nothing.........
I just received an interesting phone call from my biosister.
BioSis was in an incredibly abusive relationship with JMB from the time she was 17 until she was 28. This was not a nice man. Even after the divorce, JMB continued to be cruel. Twice he tried to kidnap My Heart. The harrassment and threats to my family went on for years. I have literally put my life on the line on two or three occasions to stand between this man and my biosister and her child. My biosister is the reason I became a domestic violence counselor in the first place.
Don't misunderstand me ~ we didn't live in fear or let him terrorize us or anything. The women in my family are made of stronger stuff than that. My father and the SGM were brilliant, too. We took appropriate steps and were smart, not victims. Still, there was always an edge to it. The screen door has always been locked. There has always been a lock on the inside of the bathroom door. My Heart lives in Nevada now and is starting an acting career. The question has been "What happens when JMB sees him?" Things like that.
For me, though, it has been more personal. Before BioSis finally left JMB, I'm the one who gave My Heart ~ at age three, mind you ~ his code word for when it was safe to come out of hiding when JMB would be pounding on the door with a gun before the police arrived. I was the one who talked BioSis into leaving. She came to live with me in CO when JMB tried to kidnap My Heart ~ both times. I'm the one who taught My Heart to yell "This man is not my father" if JMB tried to snatch him off the street. It was a hellish time.
Today we learned JMB is dead. He stopped eating about ten days ago and died surrounded by empty tequila bottles. After 22 years, my biosister and my nephew can stop looking over their shoulders. For the first time in My Heart's enitre life he is free.
I called the Lovely Cats. JMB is the only person I've ever known her to be openly rude to and even then it was only once. Being her, she finally said "It's a sad time." But I told her I don't think it is. There were parts of JMB that didn't totally suck. They were destroyed by anger and pain years ago ~ but they existed at one point. And my faith is such that I believe wholeheartedly that those parts are now free of the anger and pain. I believe wholeheartedly he is at rest and has a peace he never knew on earth. So, if my family is safe, I am able to put down this sword, and JMB is finally at peace ~ I can't quite bring myself to say it's sad.
Mind you, I don't know exactly what I'm feeling. Numb. Shocked. ... ... Glad. I don't know.
I know it's over. Finally.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
BioSis was in an incredibly abusive relationship with JMB from the time she was 17 until she was 28. This was not a nice man. Even after the divorce, JMB continued to be cruel. Twice he tried to kidnap My Heart. The harrassment and threats to my family went on for years. I have literally put my life on the line on two or three occasions to stand between this man and my biosister and her child. My biosister is the reason I became a domestic violence counselor in the first place.
Don't misunderstand me ~ we didn't live in fear or let him terrorize us or anything. The women in my family are made of stronger stuff than that. My father and the SGM were brilliant, too. We took appropriate steps and were smart, not victims. Still, there was always an edge to it. The screen door has always been locked. There has always been a lock on the inside of the bathroom door. My Heart lives in Nevada now and is starting an acting career. The question has been "What happens when JMB sees him?" Things like that.
For me, though, it has been more personal. Before BioSis finally left JMB, I'm the one who gave My Heart ~ at age three, mind you ~ his code word for when it was safe to come out of hiding when JMB would be pounding on the door with a gun before the police arrived. I was the one who talked BioSis into leaving. She came to live with me in CO when JMB tried to kidnap My Heart ~ both times. I'm the one who taught My Heart to yell "This man is not my father" if JMB tried to snatch him off the street. It was a hellish time.
Today we learned JMB is dead. He stopped eating about ten days ago and died surrounded by empty tequila bottles. After 22 years, my biosister and my nephew can stop looking over their shoulders. For the first time in My Heart's enitre life he is free.
I called the Lovely Cats. JMB is the only person I've ever known her to be openly rude to and even then it was only once. Being her, she finally said "It's a sad time." But I told her I don't think it is. There were parts of JMB that didn't totally suck. They were destroyed by anger and pain years ago ~ but they existed at one point. And my faith is such that I believe wholeheartedly that those parts are now free of the anger and pain. I believe wholeheartedly he is at rest and has a peace he never knew on earth. So, if my family is safe, I am able to put down this sword, and JMB is finally at peace ~ I can't quite bring myself to say it's sad.
Mind you, I don't know exactly what I'm feeling. Numb. Shocked. ... ... Glad. I don't know.
I know it's over. Finally.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Thursday, July 06, 2006
The Three Greatest Sounds in the World
According to George Bailey (from It's A Wonderful Life for you poor souls who might not know), the three greatest sounds in the world are train whistles, plane engines and anchor chains. This is not a stupid man. See, I'm a traveler. I have been aware of haivng wanderlust since before I knew the word. When I was very young, my mother used to tell me that, had I been born in medieval times, I would have bound my breasts and been a wandering bard. To this day, I like the idea. In West African astrology, my sign is the Traveler. That symbol was my first tattoo and lives on my hip as a gentle reminder against complacency.
One year, I was between the ages of six and eight (we were living in Texas so I know the age range if not the exact age), my grandparents gave me my very own suitcase for Christmas. It was dark blue with hot pink flowers (the 70's people, the 70's) and was the most amazing thing I had ever seen, let alone owned. I literally ached to use it. I even packed it, just in case. My parents refused to check me into a hotel in order to try it out. Not even my promises to sit quietly and not leave the room could persuade them ~ TTG!
Even now, thirty years later, nothing gives me the same thrill as buying the next plane ticket or standing in an airport. But it doesn't have to be a great adventure or even have a destination. Sometimes, it's better when it doesn't.
I love to drive. Put the window down, turn on the music and go. It feeds the wanderlust nicely without me having to drop a ton of cash. At one point, again while we were in Texas, I saw two pictures. One was of the California coast. The other was the New England coast. Immediately, I knew I wanted to drive those roads. I even knew how: the West cried out for a convertible; the East demanded a motorcycle.
To and from Nemeria's wedding, I found another drive I want to take again. Route 15. The Merritt. Hutchinson Parkway. It had several names just in the short time I was on it. The trees canopy overhead. The roads winds. The temperature is a good five to ten degrees lower. Even in my hurried excitement to get to Nemeria and my exhausted readiness to get home, I couldn't help but slow down, breathe it in.
Come autumn, I will make this drive. For no reason but to relish it. I have no idea how long it is, where it goes or if it stays that beautiful. I'll find out. And love every minute of it.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
One year, I was between the ages of six and eight (we were living in Texas so I know the age range if not the exact age), my grandparents gave me my very own suitcase for Christmas. It was dark blue with hot pink flowers (the 70's people, the 70's) and was the most amazing thing I had ever seen, let alone owned. I literally ached to use it. I even packed it, just in case. My parents refused to check me into a hotel in order to try it out. Not even my promises to sit quietly and not leave the room could persuade them ~ TTG!
Even now, thirty years later, nothing gives me the same thrill as buying the next plane ticket or standing in an airport. But it doesn't have to be a great adventure or even have a destination. Sometimes, it's better when it doesn't.
I love to drive. Put the window down, turn on the music and go. It feeds the wanderlust nicely without me having to drop a ton of cash. At one point, again while we were in Texas, I saw two pictures. One was of the California coast. The other was the New England coast. Immediately, I knew I wanted to drive those roads. I even knew how: the West cried out for a convertible; the East demanded a motorcycle.
To and from Nemeria's wedding, I found another drive I want to take again. Route 15. The Merritt. Hutchinson Parkway. It had several names just in the short time I was on it. The trees canopy overhead. The roads winds. The temperature is a good five to ten degrees lower. Even in my hurried excitement to get to Nemeria and my exhausted readiness to get home, I couldn't help but slow down, breathe it in.
Come autumn, I will make this drive. For no reason but to relish it. I have no idea how long it is, where it goes or if it stays that beautiful. I'll find out. And love every minute of it.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Pobble Songs
The men I have dated have always "given" me songs. This is not uncommon, I realize. My parents' song was Blue Moon. The SGM and I danced to Bryan Adams' Everything I Do at our wedding. For another, it was Crawl by Nil Lara. Still another decided on Queen's Fat Bottomed Girls. (Anyone want to guess why he's an ex?)
What is interesting though isn't that I have had special songs with men. What is interesting is that I have had the exact same special songs with men. Seriously. Even if, as in the above cases, we had songs that were "just ours", every single guy I have ever dated has given me the following five songs:
1. Lady by Styx
2. Ruby Tuesday by The Rolling Stones
3. The Lady in Red by Chris DeBurgh
4. Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton
5. Killer Queen by Queen
Dear God, what a flattering list this is. Truly. Have you listened to any of these songs recently? Of course, at one point during a bad time I was crying to my biosister about them, telling her that every man told me these were my songs, how much it hurt and she came up with a fabulous reponse for me. She has suggested that, when a man tells me these are my songs, I reply "You're right. And I'll take them with me when I go!" Hahahahahahahahaha ~ easily amused.
Seriously, though, I am always deeply moved when these songs become the Pobble for a man I care about. And I have faith one of these days, I won't have to take them with me when I go because, well, I'll meet someone and neither one of us will go anywhere. Until then, I'll keep taking them back. :) Of course, the fact that any one of them could be my theme song is helpful as well if I'm going to be keeping them. None of them are my theme song ~ but they could be.
So what is my personal theme song?
Indiana Jones, baby. Every day of the week.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
What is interesting though isn't that I have had special songs with men. What is interesting is that I have had the exact same special songs with men. Seriously. Even if, as in the above cases, we had songs that were "just ours", every single guy I have ever dated has given me the following five songs:
1. Lady by Styx
2. Ruby Tuesday by The Rolling Stones
3. The Lady in Red by Chris DeBurgh
4. Wonderful Tonight by Eric Clapton
5. Killer Queen by Queen
Dear God, what a flattering list this is. Truly. Have you listened to any of these songs recently? Of course, at one point during a bad time I was crying to my biosister about them, telling her that every man told me these were my songs, how much it hurt and she came up with a fabulous reponse for me. She has suggested that, when a man tells me these are my songs, I reply "You're right. And I'll take them with me when I go!" Hahahahahahahahaha ~ easily amused.
Seriously, though, I am always deeply moved when these songs become the Pobble for a man I care about. And I have faith one of these days, I won't have to take them with me when I go because, well, I'll meet someone and neither one of us will go anywhere. Until then, I'll keep taking them back. :) Of course, the fact that any one of them could be my theme song is helpful as well if I'm going to be keeping them. None of them are my theme song ~ but they could be.
So what is my personal theme song?
Indiana Jones, baby. Every day of the week.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
Saturday Ramblings on Wednesday
1. Nemeria's wedding: Is this weekend. I head out tomorrow for five days of keeping her calm; last minute shopping; manicures, pedicures and other salon stuff; eating lots of really good food; general girl stuff (yes, contrary to popular belief, I am a girl); and celebrating two of my favorite people. It promises to be a great weekend.
2. Butterflies: I got 'em. And the crazy thing is I got 'em over a boy who lives in California of all places. The thing that sucks is, of all the guys I've met on my site, all the guys who have already asked to meet me or think they are in love with me, even the other guys I really like and want to get to know better ~ this guy is the one who gives me butterflies. And he likes me too, I just don't know how much or if I give him butterflies. At least I know I can get butterflies still/again. It's been several years, several boyfriends, and a couple of friends with benefits since I've had butterflies. I'm a girl but I'm rarely girly. Seriously, though, they're kinda nice. As much as they suck.
3. The Fourth of July: I'm a goob. I admit it. For me, the Fourth of July is about the founding of this country. It's about the men who sat in that hot, sticky room in Philadelphia and risked their lives so we can live in this great country. And it is a great country ~ even with everything that's going on right now. There's a reason one of my few heros is John Adams. In the midst of all the fun, the friends, the cookouts and fireworks, please take just a moment to remember what we're celebrating. As Jaded will understand: I have crossed the Rubicon. Let the bridge be burned behind me, come what may, come what may.... They did an amazing thing. They crossed the Rubicon. They changed the world.
4. Getting my appetite back: No, I still haven't done it. But I have even more motivation than I did before. There is a place here in Woo called The Armadillo Depot and they claim to serve "Real Texas BBQ." Now, I'm skeptical ~ but I gotta try it. It's not decent Mexican food (something New England is notorious for doing badly) but I'll take decent Texas BBQ.
5. Boston: I'm back to writing full-time. This means I am no longer as desperate as I was to get back into the city. I will still go back, don't get me wrong. It's still home and its only flaws (in my opinion) are that the T stops running too early, there aren't enough 24 hour joints and it's an entire flipping country away from California (see Ramble #2). All of which means, I'll get my ass back there as soon as possible. But I'm writing again. And that makes Woo worth it.
6. The Gothic Charm School: We started with Nemeria so we might as well end with her, as well. She sent me a link to the Gothic Charm School. It's over there with the rest of them now. Apparently, I not the only one who appreciates thigh high boots and Emily Post. And that doesn't suck.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
2. Butterflies: I got 'em. And the crazy thing is I got 'em over a boy who lives in California of all places. The thing that sucks is, of all the guys I've met on my site, all the guys who have already asked to meet me or think they are in love with me, even the other guys I really like and want to get to know better ~ this guy is the one who gives me butterflies. And he likes me too, I just don't know how much or if I give him butterflies. At least I know I can get butterflies still/again. It's been several years, several boyfriends, and a couple of friends with benefits since I've had butterflies. I'm a girl but I'm rarely girly. Seriously, though, they're kinda nice. As much as they suck.
3. The Fourth of July: I'm a goob. I admit it. For me, the Fourth of July is about the founding of this country. It's about the men who sat in that hot, sticky room in Philadelphia and risked their lives so we can live in this great country. And it is a great country ~ even with everything that's going on right now. There's a reason one of my few heros is John Adams. In the midst of all the fun, the friends, the cookouts and fireworks, please take just a moment to remember what we're celebrating. As Jaded will understand: I have crossed the Rubicon. Let the bridge be burned behind me, come what may, come what may.... They did an amazing thing. They crossed the Rubicon. They changed the world.
4. Getting my appetite back: No, I still haven't done it. But I have even more motivation than I did before. There is a place here in Woo called The Armadillo Depot and they claim to serve "Real Texas BBQ." Now, I'm skeptical ~ but I gotta try it. It's not decent Mexican food (something New England is notorious for doing badly) but I'll take decent Texas BBQ.
5. Boston: I'm back to writing full-time. This means I am no longer as desperate as I was to get back into the city. I will still go back, don't get me wrong. It's still home and its only flaws (in my opinion) are that the T stops running too early, there aren't enough 24 hour joints and it's an entire flipping country away from California (see Ramble #2). All of which means, I'll get my ass back there as soon as possible. But I'm writing again. And that makes Woo worth it.
6. The Gothic Charm School: We started with Nemeria so we might as well end with her, as well. She sent me a link to the Gothic Charm School. It's over there with the rest of them now. Apparently, I not the only one who appreciates thigh high boots and Emily Post. And that doesn't suck.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Sunday, June 25, 2006
72:20
One hour, twelve minutes and twenty seconds. That's the amount of time that passed between the time I answered the phone and the time I hung it up. For two self-professed phone haters, we ate up some time. We talked about living life and grief and apartments and Boston and riding public transportation and the power of listening and, and, and... The similarities we expected were truly there. The personalities we expected were truly there. The love we expected was truly there. The first words I heard were "I have balls." The last words I heard were "Love you, dear. And thank you."
Thank you. To me. He said thank you ~ to me. This person I have emailed, instant messaged and leaned on from over a thousand miles away. Said thank you, to me. I'm the one who's honored. Never doubt that true affection can grow over a computer link.
Dondon009's voice was the sweetest sound I've heard in a long while.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee. But not much of a wine buzz.
Thank you. To me. He said thank you ~ to me. This person I have emailed, instant messaged and leaned on from over a thousand miles away. Said thank you, to me. I'm the one who's honored. Never doubt that true affection can grow over a computer link.
Dondon009's voice was the sweetest sound I've heard in a long while.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee. But not much of a wine buzz.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
Always the Bridesmaid...
This is an interesting time. As I have mentioned previously, I am in three weddings this year. First is Nemeria's this weekend. I spent this morning at Target getting all those things an honor attendant should have with her ~ tiny scissors, emery boards, breath mints, safety pins ~ you get the idea. Angry Girlfriend's wedding is next. I spent the early afternoon designing and picking out invitations for her shower. Finally, last but never least, is my Wonder Twin's wedding. TTG I'm "just" a bridesmaid for that one. I couldn't do right by Wonder Twin's fiancee as her honor attendant.
What makes it interesting, though, isn't the weddings. It's my reaction to the weddings. Over the three or four years since my marriage went sour, several friends have gotten married. I have even been in some of the weddings. And each time, regardless of how I felt about the couple or how strong they were together, I wanted to shake them and scream "Don't do it!"
Until now.
Understand, I still know the statistics. According to the numbers, two of these couples will divorce, will go through the hell I've been through. While I hope that's not the case ~ and don't forsee it ~ those are the stats. However, my change of heart isn't about the stats. It isn't even about the couples themselves. I had the "run" reaction when the Blackbelts got married and they are the strongest couple I know.
The change of heart is about me. My own healing. My own remembering that love can and does exist ~ and is a good thing. Am I racing out and finding a man to marry? Aw hell no. Let's be honest. There's probably a reason the men I like the most on my site are hundreds, if not thousands, of miles away. The difference is I can now be truly, deeply happy for my friends. And I'll take that for now.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
What makes it interesting, though, isn't the weddings. It's my reaction to the weddings. Over the three or four years since my marriage went sour, several friends have gotten married. I have even been in some of the weddings. And each time, regardless of how I felt about the couple or how strong they were together, I wanted to shake them and scream "Don't do it!"
Until now.
Understand, I still know the statistics. According to the numbers, two of these couples will divorce, will go through the hell I've been through. While I hope that's not the case ~ and don't forsee it ~ those are the stats. However, my change of heart isn't about the stats. It isn't even about the couples themselves. I had the "run" reaction when the Blackbelts got married and they are the strongest couple I know.
The change of heart is about me. My own healing. My own remembering that love can and does exist ~ and is a good thing. Am I racing out and finding a man to marry? Aw hell no. Let's be honest. There's probably a reason the men I like the most on my site are hundreds, if not thousands, of miles away. The difference is I can now be truly, deeply happy for my friends. And I'll take that for now.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Friday, June 23, 2006
Thoughts on Tim Russert
For the past week, I have been blog-stuck. Don't get me wrong ~ there have been plenty of things to write about: the amazing conversation I had with my fiction editor; the special men I have been meeting on my site; the...not so special but definitely interesting men I have met on the site; Nemeria's wedding; the Summer Solstice; giggling before sleep because my life was just so damn good... You get the idea.
But none of it felt right somehow.
Sunday was Father's Day. It's one of the three days that still consistently sting. My mother sent me a Father's Day gift. Tim Russert's new book. This has certain duality for me. First and foremost, Tim Russert is my single favorite journalist working today. He will go in the annals with the likes of Cronkite and Koppel. The night of the Bush/Gore election when he was sitting there with a white board and erasable markers, I remember thinking "I wonder if he realizes his life is about to change and he's about to become the news' 'It-Man'" Secondly, I am learning he is a good father.
I don't know Tim Russert. I will never know Tim Russert. Six degrees of separation be damned ~ this man and I will never be friends. Which means I have never seen him parent. I don't have to.
When you are raised by a man who loves you, respects you, likes you ~ all unconditionally ~ you know what it sounds like when you hear it in someone else. Tim Russert is a good dad.
He is also an amazing writer. His stories are gentle, almost soft, and yet I find myself wanting more of his stories, less of the stories he is setting up. Yes, I can read Big Russ and Me, the book that started it all. But that's not what I want to read. I want to read more of his stories about his son, Luke, and how the two of them relate.
So, if you are looking for a good book this summer, to enjoy under a nice tree with a glass of whatever, or on the beach, or sitting in front of your air conditioner ~ may I recommend Tim Russert. He' worth it.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
But none of it felt right somehow.
Sunday was Father's Day. It's one of the three days that still consistently sting. My mother sent me a Father's Day gift. Tim Russert's new book. This has certain duality for me. First and foremost, Tim Russert is my single favorite journalist working today. He will go in the annals with the likes of Cronkite and Koppel. The night of the Bush/Gore election when he was sitting there with a white board and erasable markers, I remember thinking "I wonder if he realizes his life is about to change and he's about to become the news' 'It-Man'" Secondly, I am learning he is a good father.
I don't know Tim Russert. I will never know Tim Russert. Six degrees of separation be damned ~ this man and I will never be friends. Which means I have never seen him parent. I don't have to.
When you are raised by a man who loves you, respects you, likes you ~ all unconditionally ~ you know what it sounds like when you hear it in someone else. Tim Russert is a good dad.
He is also an amazing writer. His stories are gentle, almost soft, and yet I find myself wanting more of his stories, less of the stories he is setting up. Yes, I can read Big Russ and Me, the book that started it all. But that's not what I want to read. I want to read more of his stories about his son, Luke, and how the two of them relate.
So, if you are looking for a good book this summer, to enjoy under a nice tree with a glass of whatever, or on the beach, or sitting in front of your air conditioner ~ may I recommend Tim Russert. He' worth it.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
PT S..Revisited
FAEE: Guess what I have on my desk?
Pobble: I don't know.
FAEE: I actually have tears in my eyes.
Pobble: *gasp* Is Boyfriend there? Did he propose? Is it a ring?
FAEE: nope
Pobble: A job offer?
FAEE: Try again.
Pobble: I don't know...you're killin' me. Tell me.
FAEE: Guess.
Pobble: O.M.G. is it the book?
The FAEE gave me her desk copy of Test Words You Should Know today. It's a book. It's an honest to goodness, real, actual book. It will hit shelves in 2 to 4 weeks. But I've got my copy in my hot little hands.
We have toasted ourselves, our friendship, our partnership and my grandmother. We have flipped through and examined sentences and paragraphs and oohed and aaahed over the cover. We have laughed over the fact that neither one of us knew what the hell we were doing when we started this process. And now we have a book.
Then it was over to Peaches' place. She rescheduled her evening so that we could stretch out on her bed and flip through the book. She is my fellow word-freak friend. We ate lots of Chinese food and giggled and laughed and talked about how annoying it is when people use apostrophes incorrectly. The inscription on her copy is going to read: To my favorite misanthrope. She's thrilled.
And finally, I was picking P. C. up from work tonight. When I handed him the book, he asked "PT S...who's that?" And, as if I had scripted it, I got to say "Me." Big grins all the way around ~ and he pretended to throw it out the window. Trust me, this is a compliment and means he is happy for me. He's one of those men. ;)
So ~ I have a book. I don't just have a contract or a manuscript. It's a book.
Hot damn. I know I have to sleep again eventually ~ just not yet.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Pobble: I don't know.
FAEE: I actually have tears in my eyes.
Pobble: *gasp* Is Boyfriend there? Did he propose? Is it a ring?
FAEE: nope
Pobble: A job offer?
FAEE: Try again.
Pobble: I don't know...you're killin' me. Tell me.
FAEE: Guess.
Pobble: O.M.G. is it the book?
The FAEE gave me her desk copy of Test Words You Should Know today. It's a book. It's an honest to goodness, real, actual book. It will hit shelves in 2 to 4 weeks. But I've got my copy in my hot little hands.
We have toasted ourselves, our friendship, our partnership and my grandmother. We have flipped through and examined sentences and paragraphs and oohed and aaahed over the cover. We have laughed over the fact that neither one of us knew what the hell we were doing when we started this process. And now we have a book.
Then it was over to Peaches' place. She rescheduled her evening so that we could stretch out on her bed and flip through the book. She is my fellow word-freak friend. We ate lots of Chinese food and giggled and laughed and talked about how annoying it is when people use apostrophes incorrectly. The inscription on her copy is going to read: To my favorite misanthrope. She's thrilled.
And finally, I was picking P. C. up from work tonight. When I handed him the book, he asked "PT S...who's that?" And, as if I had scripted it, I got to say "Me." Big grins all the way around ~ and he pretended to throw it out the window. Trust me, this is a compliment and means he is happy for me. He's one of those men. ;)
So ~ I have a book. I don't just have a contract or a manuscript. It's a book.
Hot damn. I know I have to sleep again eventually ~ just not yet.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Sunday, June 18, 2006
To Blow Off Steam
"to do or say something that helps you get rid of strong feelings or energy."
http://www.idioms.thefreedictionary.com
Yeah, that's about right. It was a good weekend. Now I can get back to work.
Those are totally steam-less Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
http://www.idioms.thefreedictionary.com
Yeah, that's about right. It was a good weekend. Now I can get back to work.
Those are totally steam-less Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Father's Day
Happy Father's Day, Weenie.
I love you even more than I miss you.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
I love you even more than I miss you.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Saturday Ramblings, Again
* Dancing has always, is and will probably continue to be my second favorite way to blow off steam.
* The Lovely Cats was in town for a few hours yesterday. We had the single most Pobble-defining moment possible. She wrote about it far better than I ever could so click here:
Yep, that's me. A thigh-high wearing etiquette fiend.
* 3:30 in the morning is not a good time to discover the clean laundry you dumped out onto your bed earlier didn't fold and put itself away.
* Did you know Lancelot was a 12th century addition to the Arthurian legend? (Okay ~ did anyone besides the Lovely Cats know this?) Nope, me neither. Originally, although Camelot still fell, Arthur went down fighting with Guinevere by his side. Now this is a legend I can live with. (The early Christians really had a thing about women being villains, didn't they? Sorry...digressing again...) Anyway, it's amazing what you can learn when you chat with a cool person instead of a Topekan blood-sucker.
* Paraphrasing the greatest joke EVER:
I don't have a boyfriend. I do have someone who would get really pissed off to hear me say that.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!! I am so easily amused.
* I am learning I am bad at writing scripts for slasher films. Too much plot. Too much character development. Too much talking. Silly me, I actually want there to be a reason these kids are where they are and getting chopped to bits. Give me a trashy romance novel anyday. Those folks love talking.
* I want a maid all the time. I need a maid during crunch time. Ugh. Somehow I don't think the elves that steal the sticky notes off my desk are going to do my dishes, though. Afterall, they didn't fold the laundry.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
* The Lovely Cats was in town for a few hours yesterday. We had the single most Pobble-defining moment possible. She wrote about it far better than I ever could so click here:
The Lovely Cats and the Pobble-defining Moment
then come back.Yep, that's me. A thigh-high wearing etiquette fiend.
* 3:30 in the morning is not a good time to discover the clean laundry you dumped out onto your bed earlier didn't fold and put itself away.
* Did you know Lancelot was a 12th century addition to the Arthurian legend? (Okay ~ did anyone besides the Lovely Cats know this?) Nope, me neither. Originally, although Camelot still fell, Arthur went down fighting with Guinevere by his side. Now this is a legend I can live with. (The early Christians really had a thing about women being villains, didn't they? Sorry...digressing again...) Anyway, it's amazing what you can learn when you chat with a cool person instead of a Topekan blood-sucker.
* Paraphrasing the greatest joke EVER:
I don't have a boyfriend. I do have someone who would get really pissed off to hear me say that.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!! I am so easily amused.
* I am learning I am bad at writing scripts for slasher films. Too much plot. Too much character development. Too much talking. Silly me, I actually want there to be a reason these kids are where they are and getting chopped to bits. Give me a trashy romance novel anyday. Those folks love talking.
* I want a maid all the time. I need a maid during crunch time. Ugh. Somehow I don't think the elves that steal the sticky notes off my desk are going to do my dishes, though. Afterall, they didn't fold the laundry.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Friday, June 16, 2006
Only In My World, Take 2
I have found an online dating/personals site I really like. The people are more like me, less like everybody else. Admittedly, I have only been on for about two days now but so far, it's good. With one exception.
In two days, I have managed to pick up Yucky Boy. In fairness, I also managed to lose him. It went like this (as I explained to Angry Girlfriend earlier):
Pobble: we IM'd lsat night for about 15 minutes. lots of things i didn't like about the conversation but figured it's IM and what the hell. i didn't have to be rude. so, he tells me he likes blood sucking. BLOOD SUCKING um... no. i make it very clear that i'm not interested. he says ok and we keep chatting. then he tells me he will pay for half my ticket to fly out to topeka, kansas (which is as offensive to me as bloodsucking, honestly)
Angry Girlfriend: Topeka!?
Pobble: in an attempt to be nice (again, mistake) i tell him i rarely leave massachusetts because it has everything i need. now, you and i both know this is BS but i didn't want to go off on him about how effing stupid that was. as soon as i type that i rarely leave MA, he says "we're done here. bye." i say "ta" and think "oh thank god!"
Angry Girlfriend : this is all I can must up in response. I am laughing and amazed and so many other things that there is no emoticon
Pobble: next thing i know i have a comment on my profile from him reading "i feel sorry for this person. she is pathetic." at which point, i refuse to engage. i mean ~ are we adults or in high school? ~ but i do write the webmaster, explain the whole situation and ask what can be done.
Angry Girlfriend: But seriously he is a blood sucking man from Topeka Kansas. Can you be anymore pathetic
Pobble: they remove the comment from my profile and assure me that if i have any other problems with this guy, they will take further action. a bloodsucking guy from topeka kansas who bonds so quickly he is willing to fly someone out to him after a 15 minute instant message. dude...
Angry Girlfriend: wow hmmm wow up hmmm
Pobble: i'm thinking perhaps the webmaster read over the instant message conversation (you know they archive them) and realized that i related the conversation accurately
Angry Girlfriend: Only you Pobble. Me I would get on the same site and meet an accountant.
At which point I snorted my coffee.
Even I could not make this shit up.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
In two days, I have managed to pick up Yucky Boy. In fairness, I also managed to lose him. It went like this (as I explained to Angry Girlfriend earlier):
Pobble: we IM'd lsat night for about 15 minutes. lots of things i didn't like about the conversation but figured it's IM and what the hell. i didn't have to be rude. so, he tells me he likes blood sucking. BLOOD SUCKING um... no. i make it very clear that i'm not interested. he says ok and we keep chatting. then he tells me he will pay for half my ticket to fly out to topeka, kansas (which is as offensive to me as bloodsucking, honestly)
Angry Girlfriend: Topeka!?
Pobble: in an attempt to be nice (again, mistake) i tell him i rarely leave massachusetts because it has everything i need. now, you and i both know this is BS but i didn't want to go off on him about how effing stupid that was. as soon as i type that i rarely leave MA, he says "we're done here. bye." i say "ta" and think "oh thank god!"
Angry Girlfriend : this is all I can must up in response. I am laughing and amazed and so many other things that there is no emoticon
Pobble: next thing i know i have a comment on my profile from him reading "i feel sorry for this person. she is pathetic." at which point, i refuse to engage. i mean ~ are we adults or in high school? ~ but i do write the webmaster, explain the whole situation and ask what can be done.
Angry Girlfriend: But seriously he is a blood sucking man from Topeka Kansas. Can you be anymore pathetic
Pobble: they remove the comment from my profile and assure me that if i have any other problems with this guy, they will take further action. a bloodsucking guy from topeka kansas who bonds so quickly he is willing to fly someone out to him after a 15 minute instant message. dude...
Angry Girlfriend: wow hmmm wow up hmmm
Pobble: i'm thinking perhaps the webmaster read over the instant message conversation (you know they archive them) and realized that i related the conversation accurately
Angry Girlfriend: Only you Pobble. Me I would get on the same site and meet an accountant.
At which point I snorted my coffee.
Even I could not make this shit up.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Thursday, June 15, 2006
June 15th
I'm going to make my deadline. It was questionable there for a little while, which is an unhappy, very yucky first for me. We ~ the FAEE, my collaborator, and I ~ were all a little concerned. Luckily, we're gonna make it. Whew.
Over the past two weeks, I haven't: seen much of my friends; checked my phone messages; I didn't go to NY to see the Duck and meet new Santa Fe kids (or see Alan Cummins in Three Penny Opera ~ whimper). I haven't cleaned my apartment or my car. I haven't returned the movies I rented at the beginning of crunch time. I have been a bad honor attendant to not one but two different brides and have been a worse bridesmaid to a third.
Over the past two weeks, I have: lost another four pounds; taken care of Lionel and Daisy; had breakfast with the Lovely Cats and her parents; and met my deadline. Luckily for me, I have also instant messaged with Pharmyard and P. C. who keep writers' hours eventhough they are, obviously, not writers. Goddess love them ~ they are always willing to tell me if a definition makes any sense or not when my eyes have started to cross and I just don't know any longer.
So, that's where I've been. Making sure I was gonna make this deadline and instant messaging with two friends who've been awake, willing to read definitions and help keep me sane. Crunch time is over now so I'll be back again. After I blow off a little steam, of course. >:)
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Over the past two weeks, I haven't: seen much of my friends; checked my phone messages; I didn't go to NY to see the Duck and meet new Santa Fe kids (or see Alan Cummins in Three Penny Opera ~ whimper). I haven't cleaned my apartment or my car. I haven't returned the movies I rented at the beginning of crunch time. I have been a bad honor attendant to not one but two different brides and have been a worse bridesmaid to a third.
Over the past two weeks, I have: lost another four pounds; taken care of Lionel and Daisy; had breakfast with the Lovely Cats and her parents; and met my deadline. Luckily for me, I have also instant messaged with Pharmyard and P. C. who keep writers' hours eventhough they are, obviously, not writers. Goddess love them ~ they are always willing to tell me if a definition makes any sense or not when my eyes have started to cross and I just don't know any longer.
So, that's where I've been. Making sure I was gonna make this deadline and instant messaging with two friends who've been awake, willing to read definitions and help keep me sane. Crunch time is over now so I'll be back again. After I blow off a little steam, of course. >:)
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
The Grief Process
According to people who know this stuff, the grief process is generally accepted to work something like this: 1. Denial 2. Anger 3. Bargaining 4. Depression and 5. Acceptance. (The truth of this concept and the psychological accuracy of the process can wait for another post, please.) I have watched it in clients; I have held friends while they lived through it. What I'm realizing is I've never been aware of going through all five steps personally. The deep losses in my life didn't lend themselves to all of the steps. There was no room for denial or bargaining. That just hasn't been how loss and grief have presented themselves to me.
Until now.
The One in VA saw the pentacles.
In all the time I've been Pagan, she never knew until I outted myself here. Even then, she didn't say anything. Then I posted the pictures. Because I am more out here than I am in my "real" life, I didn't worry that the necklace showed around my neck. I lifted my pantleg high enough to show the pommel of the tattoo sword.
And she saw the pentacles.
For her, it is devil worship. It is witchcraft. It is evil. My assurances that it is none of these things have been met with silence. My faith is tainted by stereotypes and frightened teachings. Its beautiful, peaceful, inclusive nature is overshadowed by fear, loathing and misunderstanding.
Prior to this, we would have told you there was nothing we would not do for the other one. Apparently, we were wrong. Her religion suffers not a witch to live and, if I prefer the term "Pagan" to "witch," that is irrelevant. My religion is too important to me (as religions should be, in my opinion) to turn away from.
And so, for the first time, I am dealing with the official grief process.
1. It's just a misunderstanding. Surely this person will be able to see past the stereotypes and demonization of my faith. I just have to find the right words to explain the truth of the matter.
2. What the fuck. It's 2006. Paganism is a beautiful, peaceful religion that has brought me closer to God than Christianity ever did and isn't that the point? Who the fuck is your minister to preach against my faith?
3. Okay, fine. I'll out myself fully, work toward education and breaking down barriers if she'll get it. (Which goes hand in hand interestingly enough with...) I'll go back in the Pagan closet. I'll worship quietly. Just let her get it.
4. She's been my friend since 1989. How can this really be happening? We're on the phone several times a week. We instant message almost every night. I don't want this. Her loss will leave such a hole... My heart is breaking. Oh Goddess, help me.
5. Sigh. Yes, it is 2006. Yes, it's a beautiful religion. And yes, there are still people who don't get it and are afraid. Sadly, the One is one of them. My coming out before I'm ready or going back in the Pagan closet will not change any of that. My anger will not change any of that. It is...what it is. Sigh.
I have no doubt that she will always pray for my soul to be saved from the "evil" that has taken it over. I will always continue to hope that one day she can understand the truth of my faith. And I will look forward to the day when we meet on the otherside so we can embrace in friendship again, having both been "right" ~ neither of us evil or damned.
For now, there are many reasons I worship quietly. Why I'm not "out" many places but here. The grief process is only one of them.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Until now.
The One in VA saw the pentacles.
In all the time I've been Pagan, she never knew until I outted myself here. Even then, she didn't say anything. Then I posted the pictures. Because I am more out here than I am in my "real" life, I didn't worry that the necklace showed around my neck. I lifted my pantleg high enough to show the pommel of the tattoo sword.
And she saw the pentacles.
For her, it is devil worship. It is witchcraft. It is evil. My assurances that it is none of these things have been met with silence. My faith is tainted by stereotypes and frightened teachings. Its beautiful, peaceful, inclusive nature is overshadowed by fear, loathing and misunderstanding.
Prior to this, we would have told you there was nothing we would not do for the other one. Apparently, we were wrong. Her religion suffers not a witch to live and, if I prefer the term "Pagan" to "witch," that is irrelevant. My religion is too important to me (as religions should be, in my opinion) to turn away from.
And so, for the first time, I am dealing with the official grief process.
1. It's just a misunderstanding. Surely this person will be able to see past the stereotypes and demonization of my faith. I just have to find the right words to explain the truth of the matter.
2. What the fuck. It's 2006. Paganism is a beautiful, peaceful religion that has brought me closer to God than Christianity ever did and isn't that the point? Who the fuck is your minister to preach against my faith?
3. Okay, fine. I'll out myself fully, work toward education and breaking down barriers if she'll get it. (Which goes hand in hand interestingly enough with...) I'll go back in the Pagan closet. I'll worship quietly. Just let her get it.
4. She's been my friend since 1989. How can this really be happening? We're on the phone several times a week. We instant message almost every night. I don't want this. Her loss will leave such a hole... My heart is breaking. Oh Goddess, help me.
5. Sigh. Yes, it is 2006. Yes, it's a beautiful religion. And yes, there are still people who don't get it and are afraid. Sadly, the One is one of them. My coming out before I'm ready or going back in the Pagan closet will not change any of that. My anger will not change any of that. It is...what it is. Sigh.
I have no doubt that she will always pray for my soul to be saved from the "evil" that has taken it over. I will always continue to hope that one day she can understand the truth of my faith. And I will look forward to the day when we meet on the otherside so we can embrace in friendship again, having both been "right" ~ neither of us evil or damned.
For now, there are many reasons I worship quietly. Why I'm not "out" many places but here. The grief process is only one of them.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Sunday, June 04, 2006
'Nuff Said
It will be legible if you click on it...
Those are Wiley's Thoughts and Pobble's Life. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Those are Wiley's Thoughts and Pobble's Life. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Friday, June 02, 2006
Answers
Again, thank you for the very, very nice things you said about me, my shoes, my tat, my shirt and my boobs. We all thank you. Now, I have gotten some requests for information about where they all came from. The boobs are genetic so I can't help you there. As for the rest of it...
The t-shirt comes from one of our own ~ Cracker Lilo. I am not skilled enough with HTML to get the cafe press link here. For some reason, it's fighting me (and it's winning) so, here is the address: http://www.cafepress.com/scarylikelove Cut, paste and shop. She has linked the shop to her site as well so you can always click here: Cracker Lilo's Porch and follow her lead. She beat the evil HTML code in a way I just couldn't.
The shoes are a brand called "The Highest Heel." Here is my favorite place to buy them: pretty, pretty shoes
And the tat. My beautiful, beautiful tat. *sigh* The genius behind that is Natan at Darkwave Studios or Lightwave Studios. Here's how you find him: Natan
Those are Pobble Thoughts, getting by with a little help from her friends. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
The t-shirt comes from one of our own ~ Cracker Lilo. I am not skilled enough with HTML to get the cafe press link here. For some reason, it's fighting me (and it's winning) so, here is the address: http://www.cafepress.com/scarylikelove Cut, paste and shop. She has linked the shop to her site as well so you can always click here: Cracker Lilo's Porch and follow her lead. She beat the evil HTML code in a way I just couldn't.
The shoes are a brand called "The Highest Heel." Here is my favorite place to buy them: pretty, pretty shoes
And the tat. My beautiful, beautiful tat. *sigh* The genius behind that is Natan at Darkwave Studios or Lightwave Studios. Here's how you find him: Natan
Those are Pobble Thoughts, getting by with a little help from her friends. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Thursday, June 01, 2006
Pictures
I'm being brave and posting pics here ~ and pics actually of my face. Okay, of my calf, my boobs and my face. If I'm gonna do it, I might as well do it, right?
Fire symbols tattoo. There it is. As promised.
Isn't it bee-yoo-tee-ful?
And the boobs. In a t-shirt designed by Cracker Lilo (I can't get the link here but trust me ~ you NEED one of these shirts!)
And finally ~ Me. The Boston Pobble. Full-face and everything.
Those are Pobble Thoughts (with a comment or two from Cracker Lilo!) That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Fire symbols tattoo. There it is. As promised.
Isn't it bee-yoo-tee-ful?
%20064.0.jpg)
And the boobs. In a t-shirt designed by Cracker Lilo (I can't get the link here but trust me ~ you NEED one of these shirts!)
And finally ~ Me. The Boston Pobble. Full-face and everything.
%20015.jpg)
%20055.jpg)
Those are Pobble Thoughts (with a comment or two from Cracker Lilo!) That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)