Life is a Banquet

School Starts Tomorrow

I have never made a huge secret of the fact that I am the nerdiest of nerds and miss school. Yes, I miss being in college and law school. I miss picking classes, the fresh start at the beginning of each semester, planned breaks, the rhythm of tests and homework.  Yes, I miss tests. I told you, I’m a freak. But, what I really miss is the end goal—knowing that if you do X and Y and Z, you will graduate and that will MEAN you accomplished something real and tangible.

Tomorrow morning at 8 am sharp, I will be dressed and in my seat ready for school to begin.  Curious? You know you are! Read on . . .

The Gilmore Cure

My favorite part of the last week, besides the coughing and hacking, and oh yes, the visit to the Urgi-care center where it was discovered that I was mere steps away from pneumonia and the hospital with 50% of my usual lung capacity, oh and the four drugs I am now on to cure the roving creepy crawlies, all of which is entirely beside the point, my favorite part was when Loralie turned to Christopher and said "I guess we'll never know unless we try."

What? You don't spend your evenings with the Gilmores? However must the rest of the world LIVE without the Gilmore Girls?  Without Netflix? Egads.  Barbarians.  Anywhoo, in the season 2 finale, when Loralie turned to Christopher and said, "I guess we'll never know unless we try . . . " My heart did this little dance.  And even though, I totally knew she was about to get her heart handed back to her in a zillion little candy-sprinkle sized pieces, I was so in awe of her leap of faith that I totally teared up. 

I want this to be my motto.  I want to be so willing to see the world as half-full, the future as wide open.  I think of everything I have spent the last four months dancing around the edge of.  I want to be so willing to say, "What is the worst that could happen?" And then face that worst, and realize that jumping was so totally worth it anyway. 

Of, course if, God wants to make it easier for me to try, he might want to give me Loralie's body.  Just a thought.

Thursday 13

Thirteen Things about Wavybrains

13 Things I am grateful for
1.  The best dog in the universe, squeaky clean and at my feet
2.  My new found Stich n Bitch friends, who make Weds. my new favorite day of the week.
3.  The Golden Marionette who kicked my ass into gear breaking my mental funk
4.  The urgent care doctor who took the time to listen, and who gave me the drugs to break my physical funk and get the swamp thing out of my lungs.
5.  My Freak who drove me to Urgent Care, who took me to the pharmacy, who helped me call Nurse Mother-in-law, and who has listened to me whine for two weeks straight about this cold (which turned out to be a big infection, not a cold BTW).  And who let me fall asleep last night in his arms. 
6. My Freak, who deserves a second line, because even when we go through a challenging period, that makes us grow, that tests our relationship, it never breaks us, and we only get stronger and stronger.
7. My mother who has listened to me on the phone through the last few weeks of funk--sickness and mental sludge, who has let me rant and rave, and who gives me a place to bare my soul. 
8.  Yarn.  I am grateful for my yarn, all its textures and shapes, for keeping me sane, for keeping me creative, for keeping me going. 
9.  Mingy and Mungy.  For making me laugh, even when it hurts to do so, even when it seems so hard, the funniest cats in the world. 
10. My bed which I am typing from.  My sanctuary, even dirty with orange peels and tea glasses nearby, this is the place I created.  I created this room from NOTHING.  And I am so grateful to have it. 
11.  My newly framed- Freak made art which graces my walls and enriches my life.  Freak is so excited at school, on such a creative tear, his shining IS the reason for everything else. 
12.  Ginger.   Oh root of gods, for clearing my sinus, for being so pure and humble and boil-able. Seriously, Ginger + Garlic + Cayenne + Lemon = feel better.  I think I got this one from ABV or another lawschool croney but it works.  1
13.  My law degree.  As much ambivalence as I have had the last few months, I am still grateful that I went to law school, that I survived, that I have the degree to show for it.   

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Back to the Future

2006 was supposed to be better.  Better than what I am still not sure as the year is only 11 days old.  But, I am trapped in a revival of my high school years--aimlessly waiting for the next big thing and hacking up my left lung.  Yes, that's right.  I spent my formative years sounding like an emphysema patient awaiting transplant.  I have no idea how many bouts of chronic bronchitis I suffered--10? 20?--just that my winters were defined by barking like a seal and being ungodly tired. 

Now, I have spent the least week and a half sounding like a seal, canceling appointments, being a bad wife and friend and citizen.  It has rained 23 out of the last 24 days.  Scratch that.  It rained this morning already.  It has rained 24 out the last 25 days.  The dampness seems to have infiltrated my very being.  I feel moist and spongy like a moss-covered wavybrains. 

In my case, bronchitis is brought on by something else--a cold, an aftermath of a cold, a sinus infection, alien invaders.  It is viral, not bacterial, and my long experience has shown me that antibiotics do little more than make me bat-shit crazy.  Ditto all cough syrups.  (Hello, Loopyville!).  Hot showers help.  Sleep helps (but my god, the weirdness of my dreams . . . .). 

I am such a sad specter of my usual wenchy self that advice has come raining down on me from all corners.  Freak is running the dehumidifier, urging me not to go out in the swampy January chill.  My mother, even knowing the past failure of modern medicine to cure me in all arenas, urges a trip to the doctor.  Mr. 37 has brewed me a Chinese herbal medicine akin to used motor oil in looks, smell, and taste.  The scientist has plied me with Gilmore Girl DVDs. 

This is starting to feel like 2003 re-deux as well.  I am depressed, not to the point of the dark place, but apathy has taken over my body.  My muscles hurt in strange new ways, ways that were supposed to go away once the doctors figured out that I don't have MS.  My blood sugar is acting up.  Exercise is forgotten, eating atrocious (as much as wheat-free, sugar-free eating can be).  I am a mess.  Which, really is nothing new at all.

My Best of 2005

Many thanks to Barren Mare and others "best of" lists for loosely inspiring my own best of 2005 list. 

The best parts of 2005:

• Watching Caylis grow from a puppy to a teenage-doggie, and watching her gain confidence and personality as she learned to swim, hike on a harness, play more complex games, and love with an abundance and depth that astounds me.  And I thought puppy love was terrific. 
• Getting Married.  The wedding and reception truly were exactly what I (and we wanted).  But, to me the best part is our vows and the partnership they represent.  We think of, reflect on, mention and live our vows in daily life--not just the fairytale moments. And THAT is the best part. 
• Coming out as a writer.  I want to look at 2005 as the year when I took a giant leap of faith, one that I continue to second-guess, accept, and put into action.  This year I finished my first novel, started novels 2 and 3 , joined RWA, went to nationals, had people other than my mother read my fiction, entered my first contest, entered golden heart, sold my first article.  Scary wonderful is the best part. 
• My friendship with the Golden Marionette.  I think my freshman year of college was the last time I had REALLY good female friends, and its been several years since I had "couple friends" and this year, I have both.  Having her to share our wedding with, sharing her wedding, watching our dogs grow, sharing fitness goals and newly-married-angst--She truly is one of MY best parts of 2005. 
• Yoga, Pilates, and Walking.  I could just lament the fact that I re-gained 20 pounds and leave it at that.  But that wouldn't tell the whole story.  Even as my relationship with food has deteriorated, my relationship with fitness improved, I got stronger, I challenged myself, I found ways to work through pain and neuropathy.  Discovering the gym, re-discovering hiking and yoga--these were some of the best moments. 
• Having my mother as my best friend.  Yes, it's corny, but as I have grown to accept myself and love myself, I have allowed myself to love my mother unconditionally, to have the kind of relationship with her that I crave--daily phone calls, long chats, silly conversations about nothing, and not worry about what others might think of our closeness.  In doing so, I have allowed myself to appreciate her quirks, distance myself from the unhealthy parts, and still love her completely. 
• Re-discovering my father.  The big guy's deteriorating condition has been one of many backdrops this past year, but what I have savored is this new feeling of closeness we share.  He reads my writing, he tells me he loves me, he sends me cards.  These little things mean so very much to me. 
• Finishing a job I loved.  As hard as it was to have my job end in Sept., as hard as it has been to adapt to working from home, leaving on good terms was the best part of an unfortunate situation.  And the fact that it freed me to pursue my dreams--well,that is certainly a best part. 
• Watching Freak become a part of my family.  Seeing Freak play computer games late into the night with my brothers and fathers, seeing him pick up the phone to call them on his own, watching him meet my New York relatives, I just fell in love over and over again. 
• Making a home.  As I have grown more confident in my own tastes, I have had the best time making a bunch of clearance finds into a home, filling this place with memories.  Part of this has been learning what makes a home: lazy evenings watching Star Trek, amazing dinners, watching pets do cute things, not sweating little stuff, and having space which reflects each of us. 
• Discovering my inner carpenter.  Part of the above has come about from challenging long held myths about myself--that I am careless, that I am no-good with tools, that I am uncoordinated.  I have ripped carpet.  I have put together furniture on my own.  I have moved furniture.  I have drilled.  I have spray painted.  I have GROWN. 
• Building spaces of my own. My ever rotating office space and closet space HAS served a purpose.  I have had a chance to explore my own needs, be truthful with myself, willing to experiment, willing to change, willing to declare myself worthy of the space. 
• Learning to stick up for myself and my choices.  I couldn't have built as much room for myself to grow as I have, if I hadn't learned so much about accepting who I am, standing up for myself, not worrying so much about pleasing others, not caving in so quickly.  I may be slightly more of a wench these days, but I think that is a good thing. 
• Moving further away from the "dark place."  The depression of three long years as I bounced from doctor to doctor achieved some resolution as I moved from probable MS to the diabetes diagnosis and opened up a new world of hope and treatment.  Metformin and Cymbalta have changed my quality of life, to the point where my health no longer defines me, where my chronic illness can recede to a more acceptable portion of my attention, and where the depression no longer seems crushing on a daily basis. 
• Falling in love with my state.  Obviously, I came here for a reason, and I came because I love the west.  But, this year, in going back to Missouri, going to New York and Reno, I have fallen truly in love with my home and with feeling rooted here. 
• Finding a connection to my community.  Part of feeling rooted has been becoming more involved with the community, volunteering with the library, SMART, and other programs.  Finding the RWA group, and the stitch n bitch ladies. 
• Falling in love with myself all over again.  It has been a decade now since high school, five years since I graduated from college, and one moment from my awakening, my true graduation.  This year when I embraced myself, my love of color, my love of cute things, my optimism, my fickleness, my curves.  I fell in love with my uniqueness and made real progress on accepting myself and dropping all the requirements I held for my own happiness.  THIS is the real best part of 2005.