sex and the city....

I have a friend who recently started a myspace page. So she loves all the online quizzes. She also got me started on Sex and the City. So, I took this quiz. If you have ever seen the show or if you really know me, you know that this is a good fit.

You Are Most Like Carrie!

You're quirky, flirty, and every guy's perfect first date. But can the guy in question live up to your romantic ideal? It's tough for you to find the right match - you're more than a little picky. Never fear... You've got a great group of friends and a great closet of clothes, no matter what! Romantic prediction: You'll fall for someone this year... Totally different from any guy you've dated.

Which Sex and the City Vixen Are You?

In other news, I am well.
Saw Gillian Welch the other night. The best show I have seen since Calexico. Better even. Also saw an intense play called Arrangement for Two Violas Heavy. Naked gay-acting sexy men onstage--two feet away. Yes, I am not kidding. Strange to see the father of a former student kissing another man right in front of you. Even stranger yet to be with a man you hardly know while this is happening. Who said life was uncomplicated?

I am between books and music--need a title, a theme.
Thanksgiving is coming up and I
am
so
glad
.

simplicity, remember?

Becky's Michael

Lilly and cousin Michael--the terrible two

The sun is streaming through the window giving me a false sense of time. It is almost 5p.m.
Been having nightmares the past few nights. A plane crash. A chase. A murder. Ex-boyfriends. Not sure what to do with it.
The start of a new cycle--a new semester?

I missed him yesterday, or at least thought of him. What does that mean?

"...and one for the road"

You'd never know it, but buddy I'm a kind of poet
And I've got a lot of things I'd like to say...

Thanks for the cheer
I hope you didn't mind
My bending your ear
But this torch that I found, It's gotta be drowned
Or it's gonna explode

Make it one for my baby
And one more for the road

Gee, thanks Frank...or was it Billie who said it best?
I dunno.

November 5. Two years and two days since I blew the joint and started fresh. Still, it looms like it was yesterday. Bad memories usually do.

I am unusually calm for the season. I hate HATE the holidays.
Never used to. It just seems the family has become more and more a glorified ideal than a reality for me. Same with relationships, actually.

This time of year is tough for everyone who is single. But when people say that it reminds me of the same rhetoric I hear when people defend Shakespeare and why his works are still relevant today. The same tired response. Explain that to a mostly aliterate society who don't plan to vote this Tuesday. They are too busy shopping at Walmart.

I have "let go" of a few more hangers-on men. These are men who are not able to return calls, emails or common communication exchanges in a timely manner. These are men who when invited to an event they wait until the day of to text the woman and say they "feel bad but would not be good company..."
THEN! They drop a line randomly just to keep the poor woman hanging on but the exchange means nothing to him.
These are also men who are seeing someone, whether seriously or casually, and want to keep their options open. Disgusting. I want to call up the oblivious girlfriend and fill her in on the boyfriend's extra curricular flirting. That will stop the wedding planning right away. But not that I would know anything about this. Shit, it has never happened to me three times or more in the last year.

So what else? I need a project. I am currently bored and boring.
Time to change that. Do I sound bitter or jaded? Both, perhaps?
Good. At least I am transparent.
And you?

hallo'ween 2

more photos from tonight:

hallo'ween

a trying weekend. not sure if it is the time zone change or just everything else.

Don't answer that--I know it is everything else.
There has to be something more than this for me.
on a positive note:

THE INFORMATION is a great album.
And how are you?

"Action/Adventure"

...so when you think you’re on the fast track
you find it’s just a cul-de-sac back
in that adult lifestyle community
where all your little boys, your action toys are duty free

so i wonder what you got your persona for
cause there’s a 2-for-one down at the corner-store
and i wonder could ya pep it up a bit
you know throw a fit
you go ahead and dance
i’ll just sit

but if you think i’m wasting your time again
no, you’re wasting mine
when you’re playing for a prime-time dream
the c n b scene
now i’m just another split in your seam the i in your team...

Sometimes that is what it feels like for me. Today is one of those Sundays when it's freezing outside, cloudly and the only thing that sounds good is to bundle up under the covers.
I am playing the what-is-wrong-with-me game again in my head. Can't help it. It's so hard to be happy with myself when it seems no one else is.

Been reading Invisible Mosnters lately. Very disturbing book. Can't necessarily relate to the characters but the relationships I can.

Still hard to make it through Sunday.

fall pics

cheese Monday night

silly head Monday night

back porch

pasture view

"Pepita"-Instrumental fm. Feast of Wire

--Calexico

Feast of Wire is a great album. Check it out if you can (see previous post for web identification).
Some things you just don’t miss until they are gone. Fireplaces on cold Sunday afternoons, for instance. It’s freezing here--moody outside and I long for the smell of wood smoke and warm fire.

Other things I don’t miss at all: Messes made by others, beer bottles and hair in the shower, for instance.

What a sacrifice we must make for complete bliss, isn’t it? A friend of mine would call these concerns of luxury. And I do see Tony’s point, I do. But sometimes the beer bottles became much more than clutter.

I am ok today. Blame the weather, blame the change in seasons, blame the moon…still a part of me deep down groans and cries as the leaves blow and crunch around me. It is all too much for me.

Standing with both feel planted is marvelous. Problem is, I’ve never known this sensation. While brushing my teeth I thought of you. Thought, “if only he had met me now…”

Honestly, it would have made little difference.

Acquaintances sidle up to me and ask, “So are you dating anyone?”
You can see they are afraid to ask but dying to know.
“No,” is the standard, honest reply.

Guess I'm not ready for the rest stop yet.

guess who?

Musings and Strange Geometry

Leaving came to us just like a song
A dull geometry of lawns
The sense that you are still a stranger
But we were born to fade away
Like light looking sideways into life
There is no reason we should stay here
-Fm. Geometry of Lawns (The Clientele)

Things I am thinking about today:

*While catching up with a dear old friend yesterday, he stated that men are basically like goldfish: they have two basic needs-- food and sex. When I mentioned that I was not looking for Mr. Right, he said that I must not be ready…”I mean do you pull off at a rest stop when you don’t have to use the rest room?”
Bruce is a person I am glad to have in my corner.

*Music is really happening right now. There are 5 (new) albums I must have:
Yo La Tengo (I am not afraid of you and I will beat your ass)
Beck (The Information)
Calexico (Feast of Wire) that one isn’t so new..Great show last Sunday!
Carrie Rodriguez (7 Angels on a Bicycle)
The Decemberists (The Crane Wife)


*I was inspired by Lotus that swept through Bloomington this weekend. The vibe in town was festive and mellow. Under the full Aries Harvest Moon the pulse was impressive.

* Today I attended a ceremony for a friend who lost her battle to cancer in September. She wanted to return home for the final days, (Olympia WA) so my friends (Gaylah’s son) Ari and Karen had the memorial service back here for her Bloomington family. It was amazing to witness how many people had been touched by Gaylah. She was one of those people whom you may only speak to for an hour, but she will stay with you forever.

*I am reminded again that there are some people in my small circle that choose not to be straight with me. When confronted, they ignore my questions, they make excuses for not spending quality time, they cross me off the “to do” list. Others ask me why do even bother trying to maintain friendships with people like this?
‘Well, “ I sigh and say,” people need lots of chances to figure it out, “ and I add,“ Patience is important.”

* You know when talking to someone whether they have been around a few times. I know a few old souls. Lucky for me, I am old too. When you meet an old soul the conversation changes drastically. There is a mutual understanding and intensity that comes as you look deeply into each other eyes and see the soul. When you meet a like soul, your sense of timing changes and there is a warmth that passes through your whole body. I (re)met a few old souls this weekend. Ever happen to you?

*In addition to PASTE Magazine, which I would love to subscribe, I found a new magazine today that looks fascinating: ADBUSTERS Strange stories. Sad but inspiring. Check it out.


So that’s me lately. Did I mention that fall is a difficult season for me? Ask me, and I’ll tell you why.

I'm back...or was I ever there to start?

like mother, like daughter

taken Sunday, October 1, 2006


While walking out with my boss last week, she commented on how different I was this year. "You seem so vibrant, grounded.."
I smiled and said, "Yes, I am back."

To be honest, I am better than I ever have been. The old me was such a different person than who I am now. Was I really ever there to start? Needless to say, things are good. Finally, at 36 1/2, things are great.


Lilly and I took a long walk today to "the forest". We explored and found mushrooms, 2 deer, an assortment of wild native flowers and spider webs.
I thought to myself of a few men that I know who spend too much time at work. I could say this about myself in my past life, but I felt sorry for them.

I wouldn't give up this time for any promotion, for any trip to a foreign country.

Life must be a balance. I think I have finally figured that part out.
Now, back to Lilly...

Indiana Summer

Occasionally in life things happen that cause ones insides to be ripped wide open. The loss of someone close, whether to death or divorce, the trauma of a horrific car accident where one has survived, flashbacks for vets of war, for instance all come to mind.
This weekend, I had an experience that will definitely go on the list . I hope a similar occurrence will never again happen to me, to my daughter, or to my friends and their children who were involved.
I will preface this simply by saying there is nothing worse than watching your child suffer or to hear your child scream in excruciating pain. Far worse when there is little you can do it make it stop….

Saturday noon. Indian Summer. Beautiful Indiana weather. What sounds like fun? Taking your child to Karst Farm Park to watch your high school soccer team play with several other teachers and their same-aged children. And it was delightful for the few minutes of swinging and climbing and running through the trees.
Unfortunately with Indian Summer also comes a host of bees and wasps, hornets and yellow jackets trying to make the best of the warm days until they are killed off by the first frost.

I think you see where this is going.

The yellow jackets started stinging Ben, the oldest of the children first. His mother began swatting, as the rest of us processed what was happening. And as if in slow-motion our reaction times were slow.
My Lilly was next, stung on her back, and then covered with the jackets, in her jeans, her hair, her arm was stung next and she was hysterical. We moved away from the area but they followed, stinging her again on the wrist. It was a strange dance, we trying to protect our children and as we shook, and swatted, it seemed to make matters worse. I was also stung at least once--who knows after--as the adrenaline kicked in, I found it hard to feel anything. I remember my daughter repeating “I want to go home I want to go home..” over in over as the Yellow Jackets attacked.

She didn’t want to go outside after that. To be honest, I didn’t either. And every itch or unusual sensation on my skin or in my clothes, I begin savagely swatting myself. I double check my drinks, step cautiously through the grass and always wear my shoes.

We won’t be going back to Karst Farm for some time. Well, not until it freezes over.

“Nice Guys Don’t Necessarily Finish Last, But He Who Hesitates is Lost”

I started my study of what we’ll call Female Seeking Male a few sordid years ago. I like to call them The Lost Years. Even so, I was well-schooled by friends, therapists, doctors, colleagues and bartenders on the do’s and don’ts of the subject.

I read the books: The Rules, How NOT to do The Rules, Finding True Love, Embracing Solitary Life, The Single Mom’s Survival Guide to Dating, on and on…

I even started a club with a few women friends who were recently in a similar place with their love lives. We called ourselves The Divorced Wives Club. Each of us had different circumstances, but all interesting and worth a biography, no doubt. I swore over many glasses of wine and laughter and tears that I would someday commit the stories to print and sell the rights to a Battered Women’s Shelter.
“This book is dedicated to THE DIVORCED WIVES CLUB"

So much for a prologue.

I have had varied experience with men. My favorites are the spontaneous times when they share what they are truly feeling, something more than, “Oh Right There Baby.”

So, in the mixed messages that I have read, the grandmotherly advice instilled and the submissive role I was brought up to play, how am I to go about finding Mr. Right, or more appropriately stated, Mr. Right Now?

Rejection, Ignoring the topic at hand, Moving to far-way states, Not answering messages--this is the way 99.5% of the men I meet respond to me. I am starting to wonder if I am a "But-her-face" Girl. (NOTE: If you don't know about this term, it means everything is just right, but her face is ugly.)
And I swear I am not a stalker. I just expect a straight answer from men and it seems they are unable to share that with me. WHY?


My best girlfriend has a similar problem, but the other side of the coin. She can’t keep the men away. She is as forward and daring as me, perhaps a little less, but is certainly more accessible.
I say that she is Ginger and I am Mary Ann from Gilligan’s Island

It seems no one is interested in Mary Ann these days. And it is killing me.