Humanity

Snowblind. Blinded by the Light?

stymied.

this is the winter of my discontent, y’all.  i include the y’all to forcibly add some sun to my bleak inner bog.

and its really pretty easy to interject sun, because none of it is that bad.

I’m alone too much.  As much as I like it, the weekends are leaving me listless.  I have to force myself out into the world and then I run back home, but I’m depressed about it.   I don’t think thats good.

i’m happy pretty often. healthy, the kids are good, we’re in this blissful pre-teenager lull of everyone-is-pretty-content on the homefront period… and i’m digging it.

i know its fleeting and I’m watching it like the first snow. . .

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I go to Salvation Army and sit down in the sofas… because it cracks me up.  Its me and the other old ladies…i take some photos, i send them around to friends to make them laugh. this is me begging for a foot rub… mah foots, mah foots…

but really, theres something shifting here… something tidal going on… salty snow, maybe. that slurry at the shore during the winter when the water is spitting foam on the sand…

i’m laughing more. nothing is working. i’m scared about money. i’m soldiering on trying to get editing jobs, which is sometimes working.  things just really aren’t ‘quite’ panning out the way they would in a romance. but we all know those things are for absolute shit. everything is breaking.

i’m dressing in the weirdest clothing, as i try to suit my weight gain and my love of my curves… the body that i am ‘used to’ dressing isn’t this one, and i’ve never had so much to contend with… (!) so … i’m trying things on… wearing a lot of draping fabrics, swishing skirts and so much softness.  I’m turning into some sort of mobile stuffed animal, i think.

which might attract the wrong crowd maybe… blech.

*i did meet one guy online who liked to wear adult diapers. for fun. wanted to call me mommy. i’m not even making that up.

on the other hand, i’ve met a lot of men who respected the hell out of the job i do as a mom. and found it sexy.  and I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW MUCH THAT MEANS.

to have the perception of others AND self be that one is a nag, an abandoned housewife in apron with straggly unkempt hair and dirty children … and to have that SHIFT to powerful, life-affirming, grounded, nourishing, excellent fuckability… all-encompassingly womanly?!

holy mother of god.

i would recommend divorce for all of us, if i could guarantee that you’d get that, just for a minute…. (otherwise, not at all. i don’t recommend it at all).

 

on the note of ‘non-recommendation’, i am going to check out. i just had a kid come home sick with vague complaints… since when do school nurses buy into vague complaints? sheesh.  and when she called, she used my maiden name, which thrilled me.

like ice cold thrill.

 

ooh. might be more there.

love to you guys,

K

 

 

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Humanity

Shopping, issues.

‘Tis the season, right? I confess to having a serious, quasi-serious, problem here. I blame my grandmother and my mother-in-law for my sticky fingers when it comes to deals.  and this time of year, when deals are flashing at me from every techie corner? I’ve got some issues.

1126181328fParticularly as I’ve had to use my credit card again for the car AND for the ceiling.

i don’t know how you feel about credit cards (obviously, i mean, i don’t even know how you feel about shoes, or writing, or politics!, for goodness sakes)… but i haven’t used mine for over 3 years.  I’ve got an amount on it, from when i was a landlord with my ex, and all the house expenses went on it… but i’ve been paying it down, more than the monthly, every month. no worries.

but now?

the seal is broken.

or, that’s how it feels… like some portal in one of my many sci-fi books, movies, shows… some swirling portal of LURK exists now.  the DOOM LURK…

and of course, coincidentally, my eyes are swelling to monumental SIZE… the DEALS.. the DEALS… all anyone has to do is hint at discounts and i’m literally salivating. add to this, i’m still on the quit-smoking wagon, have (evidently) gained a tremendous  amount of weight and need all sorts of new things to make myself feel better.  because.

SO FAR, i have maintained.  the kids have gotten clothing, not gadgets. the birthday that comes 10 days before the blessed Child’s birth is covered… and has been covered since the summer, because that kid has obsessions, so its easy. this time around? manatees.

easy.

Its hard, when i want to buy presents for everyone, and am trying to space out expenditures, and don’t like to be conscripted by a ‘budget’… (you smart people who handle money well are freaking laughing and rolling on the floor, i know) …I recognize how gross the season is, gluttony wise…  I’m not sure how to move forward, really, except to resist.

resist with all that my little heart can muster.

i’ve unsubscribed to some store’s emails, so that i no longer see the deals.  i have been limiting some of my social media time because there are surprising numbers of attractive ads in there, and i love to explore new colors! fabrics! oooooh!  squirrel!

but i spent a whole lot of time resisting in my marriage, because things were so out of control.  and i resent the resistance. so my only real strategy is just not to be scrolling so often. just eyes on the ground, that kind of thing.  AND , i give myself permission to go to Salvation Army any time I want. because. recycling. its good for the planet.

thats all i’m saying. i’m a force for good in the world.  because.

 

sigh.

Humanity

Beauty and the COLOR.

I have a bunch of weirdness to me.  awkwardness. self-consciousness. unconsciousness. subconsciousness.

when i’m asked to think about beauty as it relates to my own body and how i move through the more social world (other, actual people involved) … I have a couple of distinct approaches to my own ‘style’ as it were.

and i’m not entirely sure that it’ll resonate with anyone, but i really hope it does… because it would be good to know that my quirk has company…

so here we go: i introduce parts of me, as they relate to physical presentation to the world, beauty-like…

  1.  baglady.  lots of layers. colors, prints, skater pants have been replaced by leggings in my middle-age, warm wool hat and glasses…lollipop body, really…bulk…always glasses… today i got my trifocals … no joke. 1022181439

ITs not that pretty, its not sexy, there is no way that anyone looking at me is thinking… ooooh, i wanna tap that.

and probably, they are a little confused.  Today at Home Depot, there was a lot of confusion. my purple socks followed by my blue vans and my black leggings. . . i mean, even for me, it was a fuckit day, fashion wise, but i was warm and comfy and really, all the rest of it can fly to flypaper.

so there’s that.

2.  then there’s an undercurrent of great great awareness of curve.  man, how i love my body.  and i want to touch it in front of people.  (i do… but really, fully guffaw)… and i’m filled all up with the sexiness. like burbling over with delight and hormone.  i tell you, the pheremones are real, when i’m in this space, i can feel every man for miles sniffing the air.

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3. Thirdly, but not lastly because there is always so much more.

Here we have the me that is still trying and failing to fit in. To look like the other soccer moms, to wear the bad jeans, to have brushed hair, maybe makeup… there is such an active part of me that wants to blend in… be invisible, i think.   Maybe if i hide like that, I will appear more successful somehow, and yes, i deeply see the irony, but it is nonetheless true to me, this dichotomy.

and guess what? there is no photo to show, no ‘invisibility’ to share.

because not even I can break that invisibility.  so here i am, visible.  and thats it, i think i’m done with the vanity…expunged. and now i go back into my cave and wait til spring.

0906180758 maybe i’m a bear.

 

Humanity

45 minutes

There’s an evil time period before my kids get home which is full of uselessness. And then they arrive, and its all yelling and shouting and avoiding homework. Its a whirlwind of ineffective and I can’t stand it .

i cannot bear it, i tell you.

today, in my malaise, i kept checking on a shirt i want to sell on instagram. like, over and over, and over.  Its cute, i want it to sell, because i like to know my things are going out into the world.  I want it to be loved. 0913181425

I like the mailman, although he is surly.  I appreciate and accept his surliness.  not as a challenge, but as a slice of strawberry rhubarb pie.  he’s the rhubarb.   without him, its just canned fruit and rot yer damn teefs. . .

sigh. its here. i’m in it. too short a time to run out and get something.  not enough going on on twitter. or anywhere. i bought a clock for my office and i am literally listening to it tick.

sigh. again.

i still don’t have a job.

I know that i will eventually. but nothing today.

I’m going to post this tomorrow morning, maybe by then i’ll have noticed all the things that ARE changing… and hope i get to see the surly one. . .

 

 

 

Humanity

WORKSPACE

In my desire and need to feel more productive in this unemployed period, i have taken the suggestion of my sistah.  My ‘craft’ spot is slowly transforming into a more computer-oriented inspiration and writing spot. A place that i go to type, to work, to feel achieved and working. . .

I’ve still got some changes to make, some things to clean out… but my color is here, the wild potential of projects, the possibility.

I have space to look around, make plans to photograph another sweet little blouse for some friend of mine who wants it… such a sweet little thing… velvet, embroidery! for a teeny one. i can’t believe it ever fit me.  where did i put my boobs?

anyhow. maybe this isn’t the post of my dreams. but its here, in my ‘office’ that I am sitting, working. trying to gather and harvest my tools for the winter.

September is such a transition month.  Moving from such heat to cool nights and sweaters! really makes me need to clean house, to make space for all of the internal use this place will get for the next few months.  I purge. It is time to let go.

what’re you letting go of? where are you making space?