Humanity

i should really title you. . .

tell me about this, someone please?

so, i read this book awhile back and it made me mad. it made me so mad. it moved slowly, i hated (detested) the characters, and nothing ever happened in it that made me feel better about it. and i read all the way to the end wanting something good to be there. but no.

then they made a tv show of it. and i said, HAIL NO. and then people kept reccomending it to me and then someone said it was way better than the book and then i had another night of being at loose ends and watching tv to numb myself.

so i tried it. Guess what?

HATED IT. DETEST THE CHARACTERS. HATE IT.

okay,so there are several things going on here, to start before we even get into what makes me so full of rage at this show.

  1. Why am i so goddamn hopeful? it must have reached prescribable levels by now.  what the hell is this pollyanna crap? why did i read the whole book? why did i try the show? why was i so unhappy for so many days but woke up hopeful each day at some point and stayed married?
  2. There is magic in this show. and they never use it for delight. its always for some personal gain or to trick someone or to hurt someone else and if there is delight, it is incidental…there is no thrill and exhileration and no harry fucking potter and I WANT TO KNOW WHY THEY ARE WASTING IT!
  3. There is a lot of privilege in the show. A lot. Its a class thing, i’m sure the show producers mixed up color and culture as best they could (still lame) but its money here. Kids who smoke and drink all day like they are not kids, but old drunks and country club ladies. . they think they rebel but end up just like the parents they despise.  Too much Breakfast Club Claire.  these characters hold no humor for me, only rage. The privilege of wasting your life. THE WASTE! OH MY GOD, THE WASTE!!sigh.  the show? The Magicians.

 

if you like it, could you please tell me why? and stop me from trying to watch it again? because of the pervasive hope that i’m wrong thing?

please?

 

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Humanity

raggedy bitch

so i am home with a child recovering from a night of throw up and fever. she responds like a champ to kids ibuprofen so right now she seems completely normal, like maddeningly normal. .  . but in 4.3 hours, when that dose runs out… its back to weep and groan and moan. . . so there. there is that.

i am mom, hear me roar. again.  this season has been ridiculous. RIDICULOUS.

its nice that so many years have passed of momming now… i get tired… but i’m not nearly as depleted as I was when it was new, and there were two under three… its a huge universe of different.

i’m not as ragged anywhere… sometimes i think back to that time and i wonder how i even got through it.  i was in a marriage that didn’t give me a feeling of safety, or any real sense of ‘break’… i was home with kids all the time and i was overwhelmed by all of it.  i was completely unsure that I existed, outside of what i ‘did’.

i was some kind of raggedy.

there is a real reservoir of peace in my life now.  it sits right next to the reservoir of fear that i also have.  twinning.

honestly, i can’t tell you if the peace pond has gotten deeper or if the fear reservoir is wider or if there’s more peace because the kids are older or because Hubs is out of the picture?  I mean, thats a whole lot of choice and powerful changes, right?

I was supposed to have a meeting with my Reiki teacher, chakra carol, today… but because of kid sickness it was cancelled.  I mean, if i had a dollar for every time i’d had to cancel something because of kids?  sheesh…

anyhow. so we talked on the phone and i bedazzled her with a million items to talk about before she waited me out to exhaustion. and then… things like this.

We are all on a journey to peace. we just don’t all know it.

Acknowledging the fear is the beginning of unraveling it.

I don’t have to go on a shamanic journey, naked in the desert, to deal with my fears, I just have to keep noticing them.  Noticing when I feel them, when I avoid them, what I think they might be…

and Not being ready doesn’t mean Never being ready.

 

So there are days like this, when little is done but laundry and a movie or two… and still, i can drift a thousand times more whole than i ever was before, and there is still work to be done. but here i am. existing.

 

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Humanity

School ‘vacation’. Dickish.

so the kids went with their dad for a four day skiing trip. its school break. they left school a day and a half early, i think to accomodate the friend they were going with who is from another state and parochial school. anyhow. whoosh. what an adventure, so thrilling… all 3 now proficient and unafraid of skiis, hills and lifts.

for those of you, like me, who did not grow up near mountains, skiing isn’t a way of life. its a gargantuanly expensive up and down repetition that has a whole lot of class issues tied up in it.  Never you fear, this is a white girl who is noticing stratifications in white society.  I’m not sure theres any other color on the mountains, really.  tell me if i’m wrong.

christmas cold height high
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i’m glad my kids got the opportunity. I’m confused about money and can’t tell which are my deep-seated issues from childhood, which are my issues from money and divorce and which are just white girl who doesn’t-get-to-go issues.

all very white. and all very dickish.  maybe on my part, maybe on the part of skiiers.  i can’t tell.

it IS fun, i know it. and i went once maybe when i was a kid with my dad, and once or twice with my kids when they were fewer… its fun, i get it. exhilarating.  if i lived closer, it might be a thing i do.   but probably not.

ANYHOW.

they arrive home and within a half hour i literally have an 11 year old in tears because i am not taking him to a hotel overnight.  and because vacation is so boring, and i am a liar.  30 minutes after a four day skiing trip.

sigh.

dickish.

let them eat the dustbunnies i say. welcome to the home of boring rules and being bored and staying home and making beds and closing chickencoops and having a bedtime and no screens before school and all that joy.  its fun for me too.  believe it.

and when you are old, you will remember skiing and you will remember laughing with your mom and her face when you told her you almost gave up but didn’t and then there was all that dancing in the kitchen and the laughing and the music and the yelling and the hugging.  all of it.  you will remember all of it.  and it won’t feel boring.

i promise.

Humanity

Business mindset.

one of the things that i’ve been doing lately, besides being huddled in a corner about online dating, is trying to get myself into a business mindset.

i’m not really suited to a business mindset, lets just say… i err on the side of long, hot baths and writing odes to the stonewall out my window, and i spend lots of time trying to figure out how to indent dialogue to make it flow better, in flagrant disregard to the ‘rules’. there are a lot of rules about dialogue, i hope you know.

the boss i have (that i love like a fuzzy bunny) that had me do his company christmas/holiday cards, also asked me to make a list of possible ‘thank you’ gifts to give to his new clients.  . . so psyched…  bath salts, hand creams from sweden, chocolates with bacon bits, a popcorn popper you can use in the microwave, chemical free! ….

he was disgusted with me. (no, he wasn’t. but he did groan a lot.well, maybe he was a little…)

i did not have the proper mindset.

business is different than human. by a long shot.  his new customers eventually got gift cards for a new password security service.  i’m sure that someone was excited.

its why the thank you cards are navy blue and silver, and only say ‘thank you’.

if i am starting to approach my income-earning as something of a business, there are steps i have to take.  like,

  • measuring my office so i can claim it on my taxes…
  • like figuring out my hourly wage and making sure that i actually charge the right people for the actual time i work.  i’m really terrible about that particular part, and you’d think my sheer need for the money would override this problem, but it doesn’t.  even with my fuzzy bunny boss, i don’t charge him for all my time because i feel stupid for working so slowly.

and thats a little bit of bullshit, frankly.

and i don’t really know what to say about that.

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but i’m going to deal with it, somehow… that bullshit belief that i’m not good enough.  maybe it has something to d

o with being a stayathome mom for so long? being undervalued by others/society

/mate? undervaluing mySELF for it all, because it wasn’t from a book, or in a martha video…. and it was hard and just kept being hard when they were little? and i was in an unhappy relationship that only took from me and never fed me and so i forgot to feed myself? i just forgot about myself? yeah, yeah i did.

this, THIS RIGHT HERE is the business I have any business dealing with.

this word, this space, this body and my understandings of it.  my world is super small, and blooming. tiny. trembling. curious anyways.

that is not bullshit. and i am sticking to it.

Divorce, Humanity

Little bit fallen.

this one’s a little tricky.  so- –  it was a surprise to me to be sitting with my ex and his girlfriend at two sporting events this weekend, in the same day.  it was ‘my weekend’ and wasn’t expecting to see him at all… so i was traipsing between birthday parties and soccer and basketball and lunch-out… like all the days of life….it was busy and i needed to call on my mom and hero brother to do some of the maneuvering, in order to fit it all in.

and in the past, i’ve been given a little warning that it would happen. but i suppose that time has passed.

i am so thankful for the experience, really.  it shows me how far i have come and how much there is still to go.  i can make eye contact with her, fairly easily, at this point.  but not him.  that man i used to call HubsJ.  Watching them have intimacy in that casual way of couples doesn’t hurt at all in the jealousy way, which was very nice to notice…

but it hurts in the way of ‘none of it is real’ way…  if it was false for me, it will be false for her. . . if it was so false for me, how will i ever know when its not?

…. and i am not really sure how to incorporate those things into my world view.  THAT hurts.

The small piece of me that wants them ostracized for the total annihilation of myself is small. really small. but burns pretty brightly in my self-critique.  Maybe I would’ve brushed my hair or something ? but that’s only a maybe, because i live my life pretty damn well, and hair-brushing isn’t a thing that hits my list very often.

–In my self-critique, it is the small fire of ‘revenge’ and ‘judgement’ that I’m so harsh on.  I do feel both, that J is a monster, and that J is not a monster.  Both. and I want everyone to know, both. and the vaguery of this, and the fogginess of it…

–and i do, i do want people to rub my shoulder and love me up for surviving the experience. because man, it really is a fucking doozy.   and, i mean the marriage and i mean the basketball game.

my kids like her mostly, and i’m very happy about that.  and it continues, for me, to never be about her, specifically.  its all about J. and his utterly vacuous cluelessness.  And its about my embarassment .  my feeling of fear, exposure and judgement, failure.  i own it. i’m completely overtaken by it when i’m ‘outed’ in public like this.

I try to congratulate myself for being ‘big enough’ to sit with them. but it only works in hindsight and when I’m trying to be self-congratulatory.  (aha. doubly so.)

and in truth, it needs to be more ABOUT ME. JUST ME.  Me, SOLA e CONTENT.  me, the woman at the game with her kids, meeting her former in-laws and watching her kid leave his soul on the court. thats it. thats all it is.

I spent an awful lot of my life making everything about him. and that is not how my life is supposed to go.

there is a hell of a lot more to me than wifed or unwifed.

i don’t really want to post this one.  Wish I could tell you I was all done with all of this.

But I’m not.

closeup photo of black and green foosball table
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