nina turns 40

Is it just me, or do I get depressed more and more often these days? I'm feeling pretty powerless about the whole work situation. In my younger, freer days, if I was unhappy in a job, I'd just quit. But of course, now there's a kidlet to support, and I have to think about grown up things like health insurance. And it's not like there aren't possibilities, but why quit one unsatisfying administrative job just to get another with another company? Part of the difficulty of my situation is that I want a major change. I miss working in food, and have thought about calling up the owner of a gourmet take out/retail shop I used to work for, but I worry about the odd hours and low salaries. Part of me wants to take the kidlet and just head for Mexico. I could teach English, and he could go to school there, and get to know his paternal grandparents. That solution has major flaws as well, though, the largest of which would be leaving cB behind, and the distance from my parents (not to mention friends and other support system). I used to be pretty good at not letting a less than ideal job get me down, but now it seems to affect me in much broader ways. It's not good for the body to sit on its ass all day in front of a computer screen and type--especially when boredom leads to major chocolate consumption (that's not even addressing the caffeine issue). My hands and wrists ache, my eyes are strained, and I don't move enough. So that's what my midlife crisis is going to be about--work, and in a broader sense, my place in the world. You know, nothing major...

Shortly after I made that last post I got a call from the receptionist to come to the front desk. Jerry had stopped by and left me some lavender cut from his backyard (which he knows I love). see? I can't help myself.

It has occurred to me that some day, I will be sick of spending time with Jerry, that the mere thought of seeing him won't make my heart speed up a little, that I won't be struck by his beauty every time I look at him. But now I'm still in that honeymoon stage: never get enough of him, can't keep my hands off of him, miss him all the time I'm not with him. Is it inevitable that I won't always feel this way? Even if it doesn't always burn this intensely, I swear I'm gonna keep the spark alive.

The kidlet's school is going to the aquarium today, and I'm supposed to be with them. Unfortunately, things are too crazy at work this week for me to take time off. Which also means I shouldn't be goofing off by blogging...

I forgot to mention that we finally broke open that bottle of 2001 Syrah from Syncline that we bought on our road trip. I was afraid that I'd liked it so much when I tasted it at the winery because I was groovin on all that road trip goodness, and I liked the winemaker, but last night cB and I both declared it outstandingly yummy.

I'm definitely getting a cold. dammit dammit hell.

Feeling the inevitable downward slide of my emotions now that the weekend is winding down. I also think I might be getting a cold. Last night went to cB's with the kidlet and made tomato sauce for the fresh ravioli that cB and I bought at the farmer's market earlier that morning. The kidlet was contentedly watching TV, I was at the stove, and cB was at the kitchen table, reading the NY Times--talk about domestic bliss. It was all I could do not to burst out in tears and run around hugging the two of them and telling them how much I love them. The kidlet even ate a good portion of ravioli (though he shunned my sauce), and later fell asleep in the living room while cB and I admired his dome (I'm tickled by how excited he is over this project, stay tuned to JCO for more details and fotos) under the stars.

Had the most decadent of days yesterday. After scrubbing down the bathroom and the kitchen, I went over to cB's to watch him and yet another guy named Jerry work on the truncated icosahedron cabin that he's pre-fabbing in his backyard. I wandered in and out of the house, I read The New Yorker and the Times, I read some blogs, I sawed some wood, I watched mindless TV shows, I ate popcorn, I read some more, all the while feeling slightly strange, as if I'd forgotten something. What I'd forgotten, of course, is what if feels like to have a stretch of free time during which I can goof off however I want. I felt decadent and lazy and indulgent and bizarre. I can't remember the last time I spent an afternoon like that. Certainly not since the kidlet was born. After the guys quit for the evening, cB and I went out to dinner (yes, to Jitterbug again), where I had a nice piece of fish and he had a salad followed by another salad (he's weird that way sometimes), and we just kind of sat there looking at each other, happy, and a little bit drunk.

I love this picture for the sheer joy and silliness it expresses, which encapsulates perfectly the times spent hanging out with cB and the kidlet.

It's Saturday morning of a three day weekend. I am kid free for approximately 24 hours, and cB doesn't have his until late next week. I've got time to myself, and then get to have grown up time with my man later. It's enough to make a girl jump up and down squeal excitedly, but don't worry, I'm managing to keep it under control (if barely). On top of that my landlords/upstairs neighbors are out of town, so I can use the washing machine at my discretion, which doesn't sound like that big of a deal, but believe me, considering how their clothes are always left in either the washer or dryer rather territorily, it is. Granted, it's still a crappy washer, and everything out there is completely covered in dog hair, but it's all mine. This is what a pathetic existence I lead. I get excited over access to wash clothes.

One of the moms at the kidlet's pre-school and I were chatting yesterday while picking up our sons. She asked me what I do. It was embarrassing to have to answer about my piddly little lowlife pink collar affair, especially since she was just telling me about the frustrations of grading college exams. Of course, I feel like who I am is much more than can be summed up by how I make my living, but it's endlessly frustrating to continually pour so much of my time and effort into something I don't like to fess up to in public.

On a happier note--and yes, you can mock me all you want--I was soooo excited when I figured out how to do the strikethrough on my text in yesterday's post. Expect, plan on, be sure to look for lots more where that came from.

Things we knew already

the kidlet's dad is totally irrational
divorce sucks
certain interior parts of the crawfish are really disgusting
cB is wonderful a smart ass
nina is always late to work
coffee is god
the one thing i miss most now that i'm a parent: sleep
passion is a good thing

After sending emails to everyone I could think of asking for support, and a tearful phone call to my mother in Florida (where she's visiting my sister), I feel ready to face the kidlet's dad tonight and get this divorce thing goin' on. It will probably be anti-climactic after all my fuss and worry, but it's not gonna be very much fun. Even though I'm long disillusioned with the man and the relationship, I did fall madly in love with him once, and he represents a time in my life when I was young and idealistic and open to the world. And of course, we made the kidlet together.

I love blogs

here's one that made me crack up so hard at work that I started choking on my chicken salad--always a sign of a good blog

I just called the kidlet's dad to set up an appointment to talk about the divorce. He hasn't wanted to believe it's really gonna happen, and I, for various complicated reasons, not the least of which is being scared of what he might do, haven't pushed very hard to get the legal side of things taken care of. We've been living apart for over three years now, though, and it's way beyond time. Tomorrow's the big day. I actually have had some papers drawn up, but I'm hoping to use those as a starting point, since they don't give him very much responsibility (or say) in his role as a parent. Who knows how much he'll be willing to rise to the occasion now that it's gonna be official. Thanks to those who have been gently (and not so gently) encouraging me to get this done--I appreciate your patience and understanding. I'm gonna need y'all more than ever as this proceeds. And who knows, maybe it'll just be a piece of cake afterall...

Discovered a cool new blog last night: Go Fish, and have been reading my way through the Uffish blogroll when I have the time. Another new favorite: Swirlspice. Yeah, I tend to read women's blogs more than men's. Not on purpose or anything, they just seem to grab me and hold my interest better. On the other hand, I'm totally jonesing for a new posting of Izzle Pfaff!. Nobody consistently makes me laugh out loud like Izzle, but he's off on his honeymoon right now, the bastad.

I know that this isn't exactly breaking news on the online quiz front, but i took the political compass test and I am such a freak! I'm waaaay out there (economic L/R -5.88, Authoritarian/Libertarian -6.97). I'm farther out there than Ghandi and Nelson Mandela and the Dalai Lama. I mean I knew I was a hippie chick and had some libertarian tendencies, but dang.

my not-quite-ex called this morning at seven friggin thirty to cancel his usual saturday gig of hanging out with the kidlet. having a not-quite-ex is ever so frustrating on so many levels. now i have to scramble around and see if someone can watch a-man while i go to italian class, and i'll get no time to myself today. and i'd really like some time to focus on myself and all the issues swirling around in my head: the article i just saw citing the fact that women over sixty-five are twice as likely as men the same age to be poor, my concerns and fears about committing to another LTR, my need to form a plan to get out of eVil corporation--in fact, i should be working on my resume right now...

Why are my friendships with women so much easier than my romantic relationships with men? Now there's a loaded question. I don't ask or expect as much of my friends, for one. I have sex with men, for another, and we all know how much sex complicates things. I wish I could relax and not worry so much about everything with men in general, and, of course, cB in particular. As I've noted earlier, things are going well. It's still new enough, though (just a bit over 6 months) that I'm not completely convinced it can't all go straight to hell. I'm not used to having the things I want come so easily to me. And to have him in my life for a good long time is something I want very much.

It's hailing right now, and I'm mesmerized by the pattern it's making on the window above my cubie. The sound is very soothing as well. I love having a slanted window/skylight right above my cubie, except that it makes it impossible to keep a steady temp. in here. It's either freezing cold or sweaty hot. And now, I'm shivering as I type.

My best friend S. brought over one of their many trucks last night to help me haul stuff around. Big Ugly Table is out of the apartment for good! We also stopped by the old house to pick up yet another "last" load of stuff. Pulling into the old neighborhood made me sad, and the house, with all the irises blooming out front, still looks like home. But upon returning to the spider hotel, my mood improved. I pushed Cute Little Table over to its place, and recycled another ton or so worth of cardboard boxes, and the place now looks spacious and (somewhat) orderly. Next step is getting more art onto the walls.

Wonder of Wonders

I slept all night long with no interruptions. Neither the baby upstairs, nor my own darling kidlet, nor my bladder woke me up in the middle of the night for anything. Just one long(ish) sleep. This happens--if I'm lucky--maybe once a week. Is it any wonder I get cranky?

I chided (gently) another blogger--who will remain anonymous--for using other people's fotos without giving credit. Felt really odd, it's not something I would normally do, but as someone who is starting to take more fotos and who hangs out with fotographers, I just couldn't let it go. The images being used are world class, and worth money to the artist.

Meanwhile, I'm in a funk. Same old existential crap.

Had a great Mother's Day up in Sequim with my mom, my son, and cB. I was really touched that Jerry agreed to go, and I felt quite spoiled getting to hang out with three of the most beloved people in my life. It seems that Jerry and I have turned a corner in our relationship--we're growing closer and closer and feeling more and more committed to it. It's wonderful, but I also find it rather terrifying. The challenges we'll face together will be big ones. But of course, there's no one else I'd rather dedicate myself to, even if he does think that "incentify" is a word.

The penny doesn't seem to be finding its way through the kidlet's digestive system as quickly as I thought. Everything else is moving through there just fine and dandy, (and I thought when he was out of diapers I wouldn't have to deal with this sh*t anymore--dream on mommy) but no penny so far. The Borg (cB's kids) have dubbed him the Copper King, but I prefer the Human Piggy Bank. cB claims I've been outvoted, so Copper King it is. It looks like that's going to be the story of my life from now on: being voted down by a buncha guys. Good thing I happen to be crazy about the lot of them. And of course, I have my wily feminine ways to use on them, too. I'd say one crafty female can take on a pack of unruly hombres any day--especially since the kidlet is still (though not for long) likely to side with me.

My workload at eVil corporation is getting to the point that I don't think I'll be able to blog from work much anymore. I don't know which is worse, being so bored that you have to entertain yourself in other ways, or being so busy that you can't take a break. The politics and paperwork that I'm asked to deal with lately are becoming bureaucratic to the extreme--almost Kafkaesque (and certainly straight out of Dilbert). And the latest rumor is that we're moving upstairs, which will take away the one thing I really like about my job, my cubie with a view.

fuck the patriarchy

I get spam for porn all the time. No big deal, everybody does. I usually find it annoying or silly or sometimes laughable, depending on the subject line and volume of messages i have to delete. But the latest round is really pissing me off--i keep getting messages that promise to show US Soldiers "punishing those Iraqi whores". No, I'm not naive enough to think that soldiers don't rape, but I am pretty disgusted that it gets filmed and packaged as entertainment. It gets my angry feminist self all up in a tizzy. So fuck you bush, fuck the military, and don't nobody mess with me today.

the kidlet and i had our first trip to the ER this afternoon. the culprit? he swallowed a penny. yes, a penny. don't know how, didn't actually see it happen, and i must confess i was darn glad to see a pale white disc show up on the x-ray (in his stomach), because if we went to all that trouble and found nothing there, i was gonna be one unhappy mama. At first I wasn't even thinking I would take him in at all (what goes in one end comes out the other), but he'd been complaining that his chest hurt, and we had to make sure said coinage wasn't lodged somewhere. anyway, it was all pretty uneventful, and I get the fun job of checking for copper in his caca over the next couple of days--can't wait to tell the pre-school teachers that one--but i'm really kicking myself that i didn't get a copy of the x-ray to post here.

foto credits

I should credit cB with the neon coffee cup picture below, though I am responsible for the Bottoms Up even further below. now back to the blogging...

My dear friends S&V have been babysitting the kidlet with amazing regularity ever since he was born. Outside of family, they are the adults he is closest to (though his preschool teachers may be coming pretty close these days). I hope they know, not only how grateful I am for the alone time (or time with cB) that this affords me, but for the bond they share with my son, who needs as many loving adults in his life as I can scrape together.

Which leads me to the wild--wild being a relative term here-- thursday night martini drinking sessions that have been happening of late at a cozy little Wallingford eatery. This past week just happened to correspond with a major event in the oh-so-fun legal proceedings of cB's divorce, which added a different sort of twist to the party. It's very touching to see a man who normally keeps his emotions pretty well hidden freely expressing himself, especially considering some of the things he said. But it's also a bummer that, especially in men of his generation (boomer), the alcohol is a necessary--or at least helpful--prerequisite.

I tend to blog less when I'm feeling down, which is exactly the opposite of how I write in my journal. Must be something about the public nature of the blog--nobody wants to listen to me bitch and moan all the time. But if you want to know what's making me blue, it's the job. Work has been the major disappointment and struggle of my adulthood; it's always just been something I have to do to make money, and never a source of any true satisfaction. And I can't seem to figure out how to change that, through many different types of work, and even working in a different country. So it must be some sort of internal thing, some major attitude adjustment must be necessary on my part. When I come to some conclusion about how that might come to pass, I'll let you know.

The trip already seems like it was long ago, and the daily grind has imposed itself most heavily. I'm feeling overwhelmed, both at work and in my usual single mom way. how the hell can i earn enough money to raise this kid, much less do everything else i want to do as a parent? and we haven't even touched on the things i'd like to do for myself. the kidlet is due for a doctor's appt., his first trip to the dentist, portraits, and new clothes. I'm long overdue for a dentist appt., i'm still legally married to kidlet's dad (don't get me started on the d-word), and i badly need a haircut. And spiderland (aka our apartment) needs some attention as well. oh yeah, and i haven't bought the book for my italian class yet.