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Just got home from a visit with Jane, the new baby. Amazing! Her fingers are so long and perfect and her eyes, huge almonds with gigantic pupils surrounded by indigo. It feels so good to hold a squirming baby - especially at this age when they still like to be held horizontally and close to the breast.
My friend worries about me. She worries that I am sad because of Jane; because I can't have one of my own. And I am a little. But it is a sort of bittersweetness, this sadness. I love my life, alone, with my husband. I love the time I get to spend with my niece and nephew, the role I get to play in their lives because of my freedom from parenthood.
And I still have that ache. Can't get rid of it, even after all these years of knowing that I'll never be a mommy. I think the ache, though, has become a bit of a friend to me. It gives me character, it makes me compassionate. Really, I wouldn't want it to go away. Knowing loss is a good thing.
October may well be my favorite month. I like the October sky. And there's something about the light that makes that crisp blueness pop. The light is golden.
October is very romantic to me. There is something particularly electric about the golden-ness that makes me think back to all of these autumns that K and I have been together. One of the first and sweetest memories is actually from a "we're just friends" stage (there were several of those). We decided to go hiking in Shelby Forest, just the two of us (Danger Will Robinson!). All day up and down the hills of the Forest we walked single file - sometimes I in front, sometimes he. The Forest was filled with shocking yellow gingkos and orange maples, and the beams of light from the afternoon sun captured the dust and insects swirling in the air. I tried hard not to pant - embarrassed at how quickly I could become breathless.
What was so exciting about the day was the palpable tension that was between us. All we could think of (and we only know this about eachother in retrospect) is how badly we wanted to strip off our clothes, lie in the leaves and make love. But we didn't. And I think that's why it's really such a great memory. Because it's fun to imagine that restraint sometimes, that longing that might or might not get filled, that ache. Mmmm Mmmm. Sweet.
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it's been a while. i had promised myself that i would write everyday and THEN i got this awful comment from a reader of my work (elsewhere) that i'm too self-conscious. well, that sent me for a tailspin, writing wise.
so, i've been holed up in my head thinking about whether or not that's true, whether or not that matters, and whether or not i should give a rat's patooty what this guy thinks. and then i read a david sedaris book - naked. at first i said (in my head to my friend), "yeah, then, you go to hell you hater" cause mr. sedaris seems pretty self-conscious to me and people LOVE him. and then i thought, well, can there be more than one david sedarisey kind of writer? now, i imagine you may be rolling your eyes, sniggering that "you may be decent, but you ain't no d.s. so the anology is moot," and fine, fine, i thought that too, but i'm just wondering what the "market" will bear in the case of compulsive confessional writing. has the internet, blogging, watered down writing so that everyone's a genius, rendering no one a genius?
**
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I love valium!!!! Finally a full night's sleep - and no grogginess. YEEEHAAA!!!
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During my fitful evenings this week, I've been thinking about the word "fuck" and how much I use it. It's actually my favorite word, but I'm conflicted about it.
Papa always told me that the use of profanity signifies an inability to properly use the language - ignorance, he suggests. I disagree. You see, sometimes the word "fuck" is the proper word for a situation. It has power, shock value, cathartic value. It communicates the importance of the point, the humor of the point, the humor of the speaker....and it feels soooo gooood to say!
I used to love the section of Reader's Digest called "Toward More Picturesque Speech" which detailed interesting linguistic flourishes and turns of phrase. It is something I think about often as I write, and speak.
I say, what's more picturesque than the word "fuck?"
I will warrant that there are appropriate times to and not to use the word - and I'll admit that it's often difficult to know, in advance, whether a particular time is, in fact, appropriate. (Every time I'm in sunday school class at church there's a running tape in my mind: "don't say fuck, don't say fuck, don't say fuck." So, I end up saying "shit" D'oh!!) In my case, too, I'll admit that I could stand a bit of the "less is more" philosphy in the application of my license to use the word - but, fuck, what's a passionate, loquacious girl supposed to do?
and anyone who disagrees can just go fuck themselves...
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i'm in serious trouble.
can't sleep, but have to be up in 3 hours to study heidegger (NOT EASY). i think that the removal of the heart meds is returning me to my full-on status as insomniac. i'm actually not sure what's worse - the heart problem or the total inability to sleep like a normal person.
i went to bed but just had to let the tv run because of the fucking interminable teasers about an anaconda loose in wapanacha wildlife refuge - where K and i love to go turtle watching. i thought it had to be a joke but i had to stay tuned. there really is an anaconda in the marsh of wapanacha - in arkansas!!!! aparently some dim-wit let one loose in there. i sure hope they find it soon, because i cannot imagine what kind of havoc in might wreak on the food chain and eco system there. STUPID IDIOTS!!!
so, i got that settled and turned off the tube, but still was wide awake (did i mention this is the second night in a row of this shit?). i decided to read for a minute - with my glasses off (tired eyes sometimes fool me into thinking i'm all the way tired). i'm reading a great book (though poorly edited) about this dude that grew up in a freaky hindu-ish commune in the eighties (i'm interested 'cause that's also my story).
still, no zzzzs.
i turned off the light and then the mental fireworks began. i started freaking out about my business - we recently doubled in size (and financial outlay), but have had several lean months. [if you're reading this and a part of my "business" please don't worry too much - it's just that it gets really stressful sometimes juggling personal financial concerns AND yours (by proxy)] and i'm freaking out about getting my student loans consolidated and K has a terrible toothache to add to his dizziness and my heart hurts and is racing at ninety to nothin (literally) and then there's the heidegger.......
AND I CAN'T FIND THE FUCKING TYLENOL PM!!!!
so, i've cruised google for heidegger commentary (like i can process that right now!) and have read every profile in myspace for people within 20 miles of memphis for just at 3 hours now.......panic is setting in.
i'm gonna go try to count sheep.....
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last night some friends invited us to a baseball game. i had to twist K's arm a bit since he's been so tired from work and the phantom illness that no one can diagnose, but he soon realized what fun it would be and, after securing a promise that he wouldn't whine about being tired all day today, we trucked on downtown.
but not before i popped a little pain pill. i'd been hurting a bit all afternoon and was worried that it might ruin the evening to be clutching my chest all night fred sanford style.
we had great seats - just past first base - and the weather was phenomenal. perfectly warm with low humidity (a gift of an evening by memphis standards).
K and friend headed off for the big beers. yuuuummmy. though i'm not too much of a beer fan these days, it was just what the doctor ordered. except...
for those pain killers.
about a quarter of the way into my beer i noticed the strange thickness of my tongue - i had forgotton about my little pink boosters and was greedily chugging the $8 cup of brew. i couldn't mention my discomfort for fear of the blank stares of K and friends - gotta guard the beverage from wary worried husband, ya know.
so i just slurred the night away.
it sucks. it's always that way with me - the tongue's the first to go - WAY before the rest of me gets there.
la-la la-la-la-la-laaaaa
*
i used to be a chef. and K used to be a restaurant manager. so, we have lots of fun cooking for ourselves - and others.
problem is, one likes to cook for us. we get lots of "oh, we'd love to have y'all over for dinner, but we're too intimidated." what we end up doing is going out to restaurants with our friends, who sometimes insist on treating since they never have us over. wt's terribly, terrible uncomfortable. whey've almost always suggested a fine dining place since they assume that's all we like, so it's never cheap - which eans we can't do it very often.
i didn't tell very many people about my surgery before it happened because, well mostly because it seems stupid to call someone up and say "oh, by the way, i'm having heart surgery next week. just in case i die, i just wanted to let you know. goodbye." also, K and i are pretty autonomous - our professional lives have always been SO social that when we're not working, we just want to hang out - alone. we don't like anyone, including our families, to make a fuss. i didn't even want my mother at the hospital - what with cell phones, the need to sit in the waiting room is nullified these days. ('course, if you've read my stuff before, you know i probably didn't want my mother there for lots of other reasons.....)
boy, howdy, have i gotten in trouble for this! word got out because of the post-operative complications that made it seem even more serious than originally thought. k couldn't resist telling his buddy that just happened to call him about something else. and i had to let my gallery members know so they wouldn't think i'm just slacking off by not showing up for a week and a half.
wow. friends have crawled out of the woodwork with soup and casseroles, flowers and cards, scolding me for my over-privateness. it's been kinda cool. and finally, finally, someone brought me food!!!!!!! and i thought it was SO yummy.
maybe having friends isn't so bad after all......
well, after five hours of trying to get an IV started i headed to surgery yesterday to get this heart tickin' right. Surgery lasted about three hours (happily, i was OUT) and then it was done. I'll write more about it later, because there were some definitely funny parts, but right now i'm a bit tired. Just wanted to let whoever's checkin know that i'm ok and being coddled sufficiently by K (as usual).
thanks for the thoughts, prayers and voodoo dolls....
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K hates it when i turn on the light in the middle of the night. i don't know why it matters that much since he sleeps with his head sandwiched between two pillows.
that (sleeping with his head covered - blocking light and me out) used to bug me so much, it actually hurt my feelings. it's funny now. so many things used to bug me about him that i now either don't care about, find endearing, or just don't remember.
but he remembers everything that i've ever said that i don't like about him.
it can be a problem.
one year, way (too far) into the winter, a cold one, i noticed that K wasn't ever wearing a coat. he's pretty hot all the time so it took me a while to pick up on it. when i finally did and asked him about it, he said that i had said that his coat was dorky (the previous winter). it broke my heart. sweet, sweet K was going around cold because he didn't want me to think he was a dork. i didn't even remember saying that to him. of course, i went and bought him a cool coat post haste - he still wears that one.
another time, we were on a road trip. this was way before we were married and during a time that neither of us were certain that we could even stand to be together. we were staying overnight at my best friend's apartment in nashville and there was another guy there, a philosopher - egads, with whom i was feeling a serious connection. K could tell and was pouting a bit. it bugged me.
he had left his toothbrush in the car and asked if he could borrow mine. i made a big deal about it, saying how gross that was to share a toothbrush (nevermind the fact that i could put his cock in my mouth). i really embarrassed him - and i really didn't care.
now we share a toothbrush all the time, but it took a long time before he would.
it still hurts my heart to think about how that must have hurt, how cold he must have been, and how sweet he is to me now. it's a prickly little reminder that i should watch what i say, because, even though he so often seems to tune me out - he really is listening.
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so, melodrama has subsided. today i just feel fried and headachey. and it hurts a bit too. i promise not to turn this into a daily report on my maladies - there's probably some grandparent that you'd rather talk about that with.
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i got married 14 years ago today.
not to k, though, unfortunately. he wouldn't come to the wedding (though he was invited). i wish he had come and pulled a john cusack with a boom box from the balcony of holy communion. that would have been awesome and i totally would have hauled ass out the back door hoping to meet him in the parking lot.
i knew i was fucking up, but i really didn't think i could get out of it. it was a fairy tale extravaganza of a wedding - i had my dream dress with a twenty foot antique belgian lace train, beautiful flowers - gardenias and white roses, a huge cake with a fountain in it (though the cake table was placed in front of one of those HORRIBLE lattice panels with FAKE FERNS woven in - can you tell i'm still pissed about that?), and about 1,000 guests. and it was so wrong. wrong, wrong wrong. the worst thing is that i knew it.
but, all's well that ends well, right? not that the marriage ended well (i was a total bitch, calling him in nashville from memphis at 3 in the morning to tell him i wanted a divorce after having promised him that we were only temporarily separating), but it did end for the best.
but the end, end - the now - couldn't really have happend any other way. and i wouldn't trade it for anything.
so, happy anniversary J. i'm sorry i hurt you. i so hope you're happy and well. i wish we could be friends.
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