Wednesday, December 31, 2008
BH was extremely sweet last night when he got home from work. He was later than usual, and I announced that the baby would not be getting a behavioral cue from me to assume catastrophy. If he gets the biological, well, I'm sorry. He also gets a biological dose of my wit. But, I am not going to pass down assuming the worst.
Regardless of that comment, BH was extremely sweet, and my first thought is to ask, why were you so sweet. I realize that is not going to come across as very sweet, and it is really irrelevant. So, instead I will say, you were so sweet. I felt very loved. I still feel loved today. And, not to be too new-agey, but I felt so much positive energy flowing from you. I felt very positive, too.
I started reading this book The Way of the Superior Man. I read on DID's facebook that it's one of his favorite books of all time, along with some other Man selfhelp-type books. I looked at them on Amazon, and decided this might help me understand the XY's. (Some women Amazon reviewers and on the jacket said it had been helpful to them.) It is ok, but he repeats himself a LOT. (YES, I do, too, but I am not writing a book, yet.) He uses the word ravish WAY too much. He calls the woman "your woman." That one really bugs me. And, his solution to the "crizaazzy, unpredictable, non-sensical, emotional woman," is simply to have sex with her. Ravish, of course. And he uses this phrase, "push your belly up against hers." This brings to mind an image of a fat, hairy, sweaty belly mushing into this poor, beautiful woman's flat tummy. I don't know why. The good points are he suggests a man (and I would add, everyone) needs to connect with God or Universe or whatever, to determine his Purpose in life, beyond his career, his spouse, his kids. I totally agree, and that is promised in the wedding vows we took. Be you, with God, then be with me, then lets make kids out of our love. And he suggests that if a man is spinning his wheels in career or especially if he is not connected to his purpose, everything else in his life will suffer. I think that taps into an archetypal concept to which I cannot relate, but am beginning to grasp, that a man feels he should be strong and competent for his family. Whereas for a woman, the concept is the nurturer. Off to teach, but more of my book review, later.
Monday, December 29, 2008
I put Hank in the swing, gave him milk in a cup, and he is asleep. For 25 minutes so far. I can't believe I have never heard a mom talk about mourning weaning. I know it doesn't mean he doesn't need me anymore. And I still have 5-10 pounds of milk in my C's. But it is the beginning of the end. A good thing. I would really like to walk through the sadness and joy at the same time without trying to distract myself or deny the "extreme emotional upheaval" I didn't believe the book about. And, no, I personally don't want to nurse a baby who can unbutton my shirt, but I do not have judgement for someone who does. I am almost back to my fighting weight, although my old jeans STILL do not fit. Also, OK. I hate to have to give the C's back, anyway.
Now, I can write those 2 books I have had in mind for the past 10 years.
yesterday, woke up feeling freaked out for no reason about nothing. walked through the morning as if all was calm, and it passed. this morning feel calm and optimistic, but I woke up about 3:30 am. I stared at the kid for about 30 minutes, then decided to get up and list more crap on eBay and craigslist. I am about to go ride the spin bike.
I MISS DID and dancing. New classes don't start until Jan. The most recent DVD's I have gotten from Netflix are stinky. I did get a Salsa CD for Xmas, so I danced some to that. It is fast, however, and my turns stink at anything faster than 60 bpm. I exaggerate.
watched Gone Baby Gone over the weekend. it was good. that little Casey Affleck is his own man. doesn't turn me on like bb Ben, but few do.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
I have never gotten along with new year's eve. For a while it was mutual hatred, expensive dry- cleaning bills and broken hearts. Now, we live with mutual civility, but we keep our distance. The first few new year's eves I remember were the dick clark ball-dropping extravaganzas. big whoop. now, I am sleepy. then, all of the sudden my expectations sky-rocketed to untenable heights fueled by John Hughes movies where the mildly attractive girl ends up with the hunk she hardly knows. we all know how ugly it got when I had my own fuel, so I won't go there. in sobriety, I have tried to sneak into the new year, pretended nothing would be different the next day. (psst...nothing was different.) now, I acknowledge it's coming. just try to be grateful and stay in today. it just bugs me, that, before one holiday is over, planning for the other one is already in the works. at least it is at Walgreen's.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
I turned 13, yesterday. In some ways, I feel 13.
I miss DID and my dancing classes. I tried some DVD's I had recorded from Netflix today, but they are not even close to dancing with DID or even some of my classmates. Last time I went to Salsa class, I was very impressed with the progress some of my fellow beginners had made. Classes don't start, again, until the beginning of the year. Boo. I have not yet raised enough capital from eBay to buy more lessons, either. Double boo. Maybe Santa coming to everyone will trickle down to mon store.
It kind of bugs me on a deep level that in dancing women follow and men lead, but at the same time, it doesn't bother me at all. One of my classmates, Catfish, asked me if I wanted to lead. I said yes. He thought that was hilarious. But, why can't we take turns leading?
I am watching It's a Wonderful Life for the 1000th time. It never gets old to me.
I have written all my thank you notes for Christmas gifts. I am going to have an open house in January, and I need to send out invites to that.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
I am feeling freaked out for no reason re:Christmas.
We are starting to wean Hank. It's going to take a while.
I am bummed I won't have any dance lessons or classes for a while - at least until after the new year. I have clearance, however, to move into Salsa II and Cha Cha II group classes. I am very excited.
I am selling some old concert tshirts on eBay. I have already sold 2 for the sum of $60, total. This is probably a net of $20, which, with inflation is probably a net of $0. But, I have made a Japanese boy and a German girl happy with some 1980's garb.
I LOVE the cold weather. I have been hot since about 3 months gestation with Hank. I used to always be cold. Now, I can walk around the 68˙ house with my tank top, shorts, and knee socks on.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
I am now facebook friends with Dance Instructor David. He has the great company of Michael Phelps, Jessica Hardy, other Olympians I don't know, and some actual friends. Judging from DID's wall, he has a large following of women who like/love him. I have to say I am one of them, in the brotherly way, of course. I think that dancing holds at least 2 or 3 layers of onion that will someday be peeled away. Oh, what a large onion I have. I think I am just now beginning to reveal the 1st of the 3 dancing layers, but I do feel like I am making progress, physically and spiritually. Maybe someday I will be able to watch myself in the mirror, dancing, with him in the room, watching, and not hide behind shyness or fear of looking foolish. Maybe someday. The other great news is I may be ready for Salsa II. Oh, boy!!!
Monday, December 08, 2008
The only recurring dream I used to have was the high school and naked or pajamas or I have to go back even though I have a PhD, graduated high school, etc.
I have been having this dream lately where I am somewhere, and I am trying to leave, and I keep going in all these wrong doors. [Trying to leave using the wrong door. I wonder where I am trying to leave.]
Last night I dreamed I was trying to leave my dance place (didn't at all look like my dance place.) I keep going through door after door. I finally get to what looks like the foyer. I finally get outside and am looking for where I parked my mom's car. I keep looking and looking down each side street I think I parked on, but I can't find it. I try the keyless entry to get it to honk. I do that a few times. Suddenly alarms go off and everyone is running around. Turns out, the car had a few packaged of microwave popcorn inside. Apparently, the horn honking set the popcorn popping. There is much ado about this. Lots of smoke. Lots of popcorn in the parking garage where I parked it. I have some friends sneak me into the garage because we think the garage attendants will try to detain me. Some guy participant tries to pick a fight with me. I call the police and they detain him. My "friends" all get in my car with all the popcorn and insist it would be better if they took my keys and cell phone, drive by and pick me up later. OK. Takes me a long time to get out of the garage. Deep wells and crazy staircases. I sneak out with some other track teams because suddenly I am with a lot of runners. I walk and walk thinking they will come by and pick me up. I am thirsty. Find some punk rock kids with a lemonade stand. Drink a large glass. Lie down and rest. Then, it's night time and I am in the middle of a bar/music festival. Some nice people buy me a drink. I think, well, I have been sober almost 13 years, but a few sips will be ok. [I get that one, I am coming up on my bday, and I usually have some drinking dreams, prior]. Finally, the festival is over. We get to leave. I walk against the foot traffic. Past the drag queen group, past a group dressed like scary devil people who talk like teenagers (giggly). I decide to help them clean up the festival by dragging long boards and sorting them into piles by size. [Totally lost with these]. Looking for my dancing teacher/Mr. Walsh, my 9th grade American history teacher, who is very sought after by lusty women, not by me per se. Can't find him. Alarm goes off.
Saturday, December 06, 2008
Friday, December 05, 2008
I was a little disappointed with myself after my lesson today with DID. I realized on the way home that, although one expects excellence from oneself, it does not mean that one will achieve instant excellence. DID said if dancing were easy, everyone would do it. I am getting hung up in some cha cha moves. I do feel successful with my salsa, so far. I am trying to persuade BH to accompany me to salsa class on Sunday. I went to rumba class last night. It was very challenging to get myself to go at 7 pm, but once I was on my way, I was happy to be going. I would have bet our lottery winnings that my instructor was gay. He is engaged to a woman. What has happened to my 7th sense? I enjoyed feeling like one of the coolest people in the room. On a scale of 1 to 10, where 1 is the least dorky, and 10 is the most dorky, I usually feel like I hover around a 6 or 7. Last night, I was definitely a 1 or 2. They are all extremely sweet, however, and I greatly enjoy the company of dorks. I have a new friend named Catfish. He swims at Barton Springs most days. I made him laugh by telling him the hard time I have being a follower is rooted in feminism. I thought it was mildly amusing, and I certainly am the one who thinks I am extremely hilarious, but Catfish out-enjoyed my wit. I was going to go to the salsa/merengue open house, but it starts and 7:30, I got up at 4, and I am too tired. I was thinking meringue was spelled with an i, but that is the dessert. The dance has e's.
As usual, I ramble. Peace.
Dear President-elect Obama,
I love you. I am so excited about the next eight years, your cabinet, the US behaving ethically on the world stage, a NCAA football championship playoff series, and the change in DC that will surely manifest under your leadership.
However, I urge you to add a comma to your slogan. Yes, we can.
Yes, we did. Yes, you are awesome.
Let's change Washington DC, not the King's English.