hello world

It is FOUR IN THE MORNING.

I cannot sleep. CANNOT SLEEP.

I have not fallen asleep. I went to bed at 12:15.

My eyelids are heavy, but my mind and body HATE ME.
The rhythmic, periodic breeze from the ceiling fan keeps me awake. What if I fall asleep and miss the next little puff of air? Joe's rarely snores, but of course, tonight he does. Someone is cutting down a tree IN MY EAR. My own heartbeat is now drumming so loudly that I cannot hear anything else, besides joe's snoring and the beating of my own heart and the ticking of the clock outside the room and Eliza's breathing on the other side of the apartment. HEEEEELP!

I am eating a bowl of the cheap version of Honey Smacks, hoping that it will make me sleep.
The logic in this? There is NONE. but they're smackeringly delicious.

I started taking an antidepressant again. To prevent the inevitable decline and descent into HELL. I was feeling fine, until I wanted to throw things against the wall. or at people.

Apparently the cost of sanity is the side effect of INSOMNIA, which does not work out well for me.

happy belated mother's day

Brigitta,

Imagine this in the card I should have sent you:
"This is late because I've been busy SAVING THE WORLD!"
Except, really, it's because I was on vacation (finally!!) and am forgetful.

I just want to say Thank You for the card. You always have a way of touching my heart. Thank you for appreciating me.

You are a beautiful Mom and I simultaneously don't want summer to come and can't wait for summer to come (which is only a couple of weeks away). I can't stand the thought of Eliza being away, from me and especially from Joe. Yet, I cannot wait for you and Eliza to get to fall back into your routines as mother and daughter.

You, as her Mom, are one of her biggest heroes. Her heroine. Not the drug, but the girl hero- apparent by the added "e" (I checked that on google). She talks about you constantly.

My mom makes French Toast with oats on it. My mom would rub my face like this when I was little. On family bike rides my mom.... My mom loves this song. We read this book when I was little...

This is always both beautiful and difficult, as a little jealousy always sneaks in, even though it is completely unwanted. It's beautiful to hear her speak of you so intensely. Nothing can replace a Mom and I just hope that I can provide some sense of Momness. Thank you for sharing this beautiful girl with me. She's changed my life.

I loved having you here because I witnessed the bond between the two of you. The words that didn't even need to be said.

Happy Mother's Day
I love you too.

and she has NO IDEA

they are playing and giggling- attempting to do handstands underwater, her little skinny brown legs kicking just at the surface. she never makes it into the full handstand.

she has NO IDEA what i am going through so that they can play with their Littlest Pet Shops in the pool. and she has NO IDEA that right this minute i am SCREAMING OBSCENITIES IN MY HEAD. of which i will spare you, just know that they are some serious obscenities. words i have never said in front of my mother. at least they are remaining, for the most part, in my head. just a few of them tumbling out in little mumbled whispers so that the other parents at the pool won't give me dirty looks and run screaming from the pool dragging along their children and covering their ears.

why all of the screaming in my head? i am on the brink of insanity. the brink.

the wind blew my pens off of my paper. pens, plural. it was strong enough to blow them off of my one loose sheet of paper. this vile act of God allowed the wind to blow my paper into the pool. i was aware of this possibility and was carefully holding the paper while i transferred data from my client's binder onto the paper. this is a tracking paper that i will have to completely RE-DO. joe called and i let go of it, setting 2 pens on top of it to answer the phone. 2 pens. 2 pens are not weighty enough, apparently. joe you did this.

luckily, eliza and her friend were taking a break from swimming and were standing by my table when this happened. her friend ran and jumped toward the paper in the pool, attempting to save my important work. it's not saved. you can't save chlorine pool soaked and crumpled papers with important dates on them.

the wind is still blowing. i have a scowl on my face. which i better stop NOW or i will get unsightly wrinkles in between my eyes. the scowl wrinkles i have been avoiding by wearing sunglasses at all times.

the pool transformed from a slightly unbearable pit of despair to a monstrosity that only belongs in the fiery depths of HELL. there are now teenages throughout the entire pool. LOUD teenagers banging boogie boards over their little brothers' heads. F@#*king monstrosity. Damn you all. STOP HAVING FUN AT MY EXPENSE! DON'T YOU KNOW MY VERY IMPORTANT PAPER AND MY HAIR IS RUINED?!?

she just brought me another scrap of my paper.

are you laughing? are the heavens laughing?!

why are there children laughing at the pool? SHUT UP! STOP IT! NOOOOWW!

today

i feel like lying in bed. ALL DAY.
i do not feel like catching up with school work.
confused? you were on a 1 week summer break, you say?
yes, well a 1 week summer break, during which i was supposed to complete the intro and method section of my thesis, complete a grant matrix (don't ask) and catch up on my client's paper work.
i don't want to do any of that. and i didn't finish any of it during my 1 week summer break.
ONE WEEK SUMMER BREAK.
what a joke.
monday i am back to the grind. with meetings from 2:30 to 5:30.
i have to finish these things TODAY.
and i am at the pool watching eliza and her friend play
trying to get some of this done.
but the wind is not agreeing with me.
it is driving me insane.
the wind is blowing my papers.
blowing my hair.
the sun is irritatingly shining onto my laptop screen
the sun is ignoring the fact that i sat in the shade to avoid that.
the children are splashing.
the sun is shining.
it should be nice.

ruby slippers

This post goes down smoothly with a shot of Lyle Lovett:


Repeat after me: There's No Place Like Home. There's No Place Like Home. There's No Place Like Home.

Three clicks and I'm home.

More like 10 hours on an airplane. TEN HOURS.

I found myself hoping for the rain. Please just rain a little. Give me some mist. Give me the pit pat pit pat tippity tap of the rain against the window as I fall asleep.

In high school I would float away in my thoughts as the rain splashed into the pond outside my window, as it pattered against the window pane, as the frogs would ribbit along with this song. I would crack open my window and soak in the sounds of pure calm. I would leave my window open as I slept through the night, curled up in extra blankets, because that sound is worth any cold that may sneak in.






















As my dad says, we are camera challenged. I failed to take any pictures our entire trip. The pictures posted are simply from google searches. Regardless, the picture above is of the historic street in their perfect town. You can't see the perfectly cute stop light posts. Seriously. Even the stop light posts. I forgot how great this place is in the 9 years I have been away. Maybe it's better with time and maybe it's more appreciated as an adult, without teenager concerns.

Because it's sunny, you can see over 20 hang-gliders carving through the sky and back again to the nearby mountain. Floating magically way up there in the sky, against the backdrop of a totally green mountain. Because in Seattle they are all green.

In the front yard are decorative grass clumps. hmmm... there are also little trees, which will become big trees. There are plans for dwarf fruit trees, a variety, in rows like a miniature orchard or vineyard. There are flowers that are beautiful, including colorful cala lilies. (which may not be spelled right, even though I googled it). These and some very specific type of daisy were planted by my mom, in haste before a second, RE-DO foot surgery.

Behind their home is a backyard. Behind the yard is a fence. Through the fence is wilderness. In the wilderness are slugs. Lots of slugs. and wild blackberry bushes, and lots of trees. Trees covered in wet beautiful moss. At the edge of this wilderness is more wilderness, which is a creek, which is more like a small river. Behind the rive-like creek is a mountain. We walked down to the creek with my mom and dad. Each of us with gloves on to protect against the blackberry bushes. My Dad in bright orange waders, with a machete in hand. He pointed out deer tracks down the path and hacked away unruly blackberry tangles.

In their home is a beautiful baby grand piano. My mom plays it beautifully. My dad, on a special occasion may play a hymn on it. My mom plays and sings. Specifically, for Eliza, she played and sang Blues in the Night. To which, Eliza sang quietly along. I plunked out a few songs that I loved growing up, like Master, the Tempest is Raging.

In their home is a beautiful kitchen, in which my mom makes wonderful foods. Like mango chicken, which sounds sweet, but is actually quite hot and delicious.

In their home is a storage closet downstairs, filled with grown-up and absent children's belongings. My old porcelin doll with the frizzy hair, cheerleading outfit, old books and trinkets. A box for Kelli, and Jake, and Amy, and Kristen. All full of memories not always remembered until held.

There are more pictures of children and grandchildren than necessary, but perfectly placed and much appreciated. Eliza doesn't recognize me in my dance costumes from when I was about her age. I, however, remember each dance recital associated with each costume. Mom and Dad, Grandmas and Grandpas smiling and clapping and hugging.


In their home is so much love it might explode.



















Eliza, my Dad, and I drove to Snoqualmie to hike down to the falls. The trail down to Snoqualmie Falls was closed for that day and the next few days. But, we still took pictures, with a hastily purchased disposable camera, from the look-out points so that we can remember that we tried. We ate in this dumpy little bakery. It was delightful. We drove to Leavenworth, a little tourist village resembling Germany, as it was settled by Germans. There are no pictures to prove this, and there are not enough words to adequately describe this, but: I got to be with my Dad. ALL DAY. He's quite fun and brilliant. I soaked him in along with the beautiful view of the mountains. Eliza wasn't sure what to think at first. Her first time alone with Grandpa for an ENTIRE DAY!! He's actually silly. and funny. and I'm not sure she realized this. It may have taken her the majority of the day to adjust to this and be a little silly back, but she loved it. This serious little girl loves her grandpa. We both soaked him in. I didn't want it to end.
























Before Grandma's foot surgery we got to make our own Ugly Dolls, be silly, play games in restaurants, shop around, go to a play, and visit Pikes Place Market. It was a few days of utter chaos. and it too was perfect. How did she become a Grandma? The answer to this may seem obvious (sex or marriage, in my case marriage), but how did she instantly turn into Gramma? She is beautiful in this role, delving out love like fruit snacks.

We visited her in the hospital the two days before we left and played games. She had an eye patch the first night. Apparently, coming out of anesthesia makes people rub their eyes really hard and she scratched it. She was the closest to drunk she will ever be on the medication, and it was a riot. Eliza was offended that Dyan and I found Granma's drunkenness to be amusing. I couldn't tell a difference, she said. With one eye covered she couldn't seem to keep the other eye open. Uncoordinated. She would ask about her hair. Giggle. Hug Eliza. Make a silly comment. Play with the tape that held on the patch. Push against the covered eye. Pry her non-covered eye open. Giggle. Eliza cried saying goodbye the second night after playing Boggle. Telling Gramma in her mother's day card that she wished she could live there and see her almost every day. (she's so realistic she had to add the almost). I came home telling Joe that Issaquah is perfect and that I just have to live there. Have To!