Vegas Notations

One thing I noticed while I was in Las Vegas is that I am skinny. In the swimming pool. Seriously. Normally, in my bathing suit, I look something like this:

Only I'm pretty sure I have hands and I hope my crotch isn't square. My head really is that small though. So, yeah. I look like a normal middle aged woman with giant thighs. and one razor sharp tibia. I stand like that too. Really. I've been working on standing with my feet parallel because I think it will take pressure off my knees.

ANYHOW, I noticed that when I was in the pool, all of the sudden, my fat was evenly distributed. I felt firm and skinny and normal and not at all buoyant. I'm a sinker. bloop. right down too the bottom unless I maintain a whole lot of air in my lungs.

So now that I have returned from Vegas, I am going to build myself a water tank and live in it. So I can be skinny all the time. And you know, all that treading of water might just make that dream come true.

Or I could stop drinking booze. But I think the water tank is a much better idea.

I am orange because I am tan. notice that I magically don't lose any boobage. That's some talent right there.

All my little "dramas" aside

I spent the last week or so in Las Vegas attending RollerCon; the yearly Roller Derby Convention. It's a big party and skating madness. I partied (so much the first day that I was hung over by 7 pm and pretty much stayed away from the booze for the rest of the week), but did not skate as my knees just aren't handling activity well. I'm sure if I would buckle down and shrink the size of my butt that would be slightly less of an issue. I'm also looking into better foot support. but I digress.

So RollerCon. Madness. I had fun with my Ninja Monkeys.

That's all I have about that for now.

I also had the opportunity to spend some time with Girl Roomie and Best Friend from San Diego. And their spouses (both of whom I adore) and another character who has never really come into play here (we shall call her Kiki). These are people I have known forever. And it bears repeating that although I love my Reno family, there's something comforting about spending time with the people who have known you the longest. We laid by the pool and ate and had frothy cocktails. We (they) got all dressed up. We went to dinner. We ate dessert and looked in the gift shop. We sat in the bar for awhile and chatted. I had been looking forward to seeing everyone but I didn't really know how much until I was on the bus and I just, relaxed.

I caught them up a bit on the things that have changed in my world. Kiki and I floated the lazy river and talked about how hard it is to date. She's going through a divorce and well, we all know I'm kind of a dating disaster. I chatted up the husbands. We watched the Olympics.

And the Fluffy Ninja Monkeys all got tattoos.

shouldn't really post when i am upset.

But that's one of the reasons I started this blog. To get the things out I need to get out. And I needed to get that out. but I always question the wisdom later. Oh well.

Really, i do this to myself

I really should stop reading romance novels. I give Wifey shit for watching movies like "The Notebook" and sobbing into her cheerios, but then I go home and read these novels fully of happy endings and snot all over myself.

This last one hit me hard. I almost didn't finish it because there were too many (imagined, I'm sure) parallels and I didn't think I could handle reading the happy ending part I knew was coming because I just don't believe that I'm going to have one this time.

I don't know why it still hurts. I mean, I knew this was going to take awhile. I knew. And I'm not trying to hurry the process or find replacements or any of the other things that I have tried in the past that didn't work. I just thought maybe it would hurt a bit less by now.

I waffle. Between thinking this is the best choice, with all the logic that I can put behind it, and hoping he's just as miserable as I am and decide he wants to fit me into his life. Except I think I know him better than that. I would like to know when I will stop hoping. How long? I keep trying to count my losses and fold but I feel like if I just hang in there, I might have a winning hand. Which is kind of the story of the relationship, and I am a TERRIBLE poker player.  I have not contacted, although I have been tempted. I'm still confused.

The books, they don't help this although I thought I was ok to start reading them again. (I often want to read just for the entertainment value. like eating candy just because it tastes good). I got through the first one just fine. Ai.

Stop wallowing. Stop sniffling. Go put on your bathing suit and return to the party. Put on a happy face. Fake it till I make it.

goodness knows, I'm good at that.

Little Bliss List

I don't have a lot of commentary, but I do have a list!

• Houseguests. Ususally this is a stressful thing, but I do think that the Turks were the best houseguests ever. I did my best not to hover, and they were just awesome.
• Monkey Puppets.
• Homemade Ice Cream. Blackberry chocolate chip.
• Time with friends
• Blackberry jam

For the record, I was not making jam nakid. But I don't know how to draw on paint very well. or anywhere else for that matter. I was wearing my favorite pioneer style super long red apron though.

Happy Places

It's odd, how my brain works. Or doesn't work, depending on the moment and whether I am properly fed. You know, with good nutrition and plenty of it. I'm blaming my current extreme inability to focus on anything I am supposed to be doing on the fact that last night my dinner consisted of Vodka, Chocolate Chip Cookies, and Taco Bell.

It must be the Taco Bell that is causing problems because we all know I exist quite well on a diet of vodka and chocolate chip cookies.

Not the point. again.

The point is, that as distracted as I appear on a normal basis, I am often hiding additional distractions that are going on in my head.

My brain, brilliant though it can be, takes random vacations to far off places at strange times. I call it going to my happy place.

Here's the thing. My happy place? Totally not a verdant meadow full of unicorns.

No. In my early twenties, it was a hillside in San Diego County covered in prickly pear cactus. Lately, my brain transports me to Placerville.

I've only been to Placerville once. I was passing through. It looked like an interesting town to spend an hour. Maybe there are thrift stores or antiques or something. I do know there is history and I sure do like that.

Sometimes I consider why my brain sends me to these places. Perhaps there is buried treasure on that hillside of prickly pear. Maybe there's something special for me lurking in Placerville. I do know that I need to go get the soap that I have on consignment in Quincy. But Quincy and Placerville are in different directions.

No, I think my brain is just wired funny. Because running reports triggers a mind trip to Placerville and I'm not even going to tell you what triggered the prickly hillside...

Where I'm at

I'm still posting ahead although I appear to be catching up with myself.

These past couple of weeks haven't been easy, but I remembered early on that there is always a mourning period and I have been through it enough to see the signs in myself.

I'm not beyond it. I spent over a year in his company and I understand that it will take time to move on. I won't go into detail but I am constantly looking at the situation from every angle I can come up with. Picking it apart. Analyzing it as best as I can with the one sided information I have. Then, when I go to bed at night, I pray that I will fall asleep quickly. Most nights I do. The other nights, I do my best not to make up situations that may or may not be true. Torments about what he might be doing that are none of my concern. Normal. All of it. I know that one day, I won't worry about it any more.

My friends have been wonderful about keeping me busy. Tonight was my first night totally alone. I was ready to be alone in my home with my projects and my dog. It's a good feeling.

There are times when I am okay, and times when I feel as though I have been stripped nakid. But I always remember that I have been here before and that I will move beyond it again.  I remember that it has hurt worse. That I've seen bottom and this isn't it. I remind myself of other things too.


So I keep on trucking. I put on a happy face. I try not to talk about it or him because it's bad enough to dwell in my head without forcing everyone else to listen too. When I am alone, I talk to myself a lot.

This too shall pass. And that is where I'm at.

Broken parts

When I talk about my childhood, I hope that you know that I don't blame my parents, I don't harbor resentments towards them, and I know that as humans, they were doing the best that they could. I am aware that there is no handbook to childrearing, and that they were trying to do better than their parents did.

I... Was the trouble maker in my family. Between my Seester and I, I was the one most frequently in trouble. I was told frequently that I was defiant. I felt like I could never do anything right. I now know about myself that I don't take well to being dictated to, I need to be reasoned with. Tell me why, if it isn't obvious, and I'll do just about anything you ask of me. (Pie and Brother were bitty things back then. Pie was born when I was 9 and Brother when I was 11) Some of  what I got in trouble for was stupid kid stuff like not doing my chores, and some of it was for bigger things. I was, I now know, a pretty normal kid as far as the crap I pulled, I just got in trouble for that a lot. I generally tell people that we weren't allowed to be kids. I hear about the things my friends got away with doing and I know those things would not have been okay in my house.

After awhile, yelling didn't do much. Neither did spankings. So a new punishment was installed. It was for stuff in between yelling and spanking.

During the time when I was 9, 10, and 11, we lived in a house with a laundry room right off the kitchen. While we lived there, if I got in trouble, I would be told to go sit in the laundry room, on the concrete step just on the other side of the door for 10 or 15 minutes.

In the dark.

There were bugs in there so I would sneak  and sit on the washing machine, quietly lifting myself up, hoping that I wouldn't accidentally kick the side of it, convinced that they couldn't crawl up the slick sides of the washer.

Imagine being that kid. Sitting in the dark, and listening as your family joked around and wrestled about on the other side. It instilled a strong sense that they didn't care about me. I felt left out. It seemed like they had more fun when I wasn't around. I worried that the bugs in there (they weren't bad, be we lived across the street from a canyon and we were in San Diego not far from the water so yeah, there were bugs. Roaches and waterbugs, rarely seen, but present) would crawl on me. I actually had nightmares about it.

And I knew the fun would be over by the time my sentence was carried out. When I thought enough time had passed, I would return to the step and wait for the door to open. My parents never knew that I had been sitting on the washer the whole time. Which is good because I would have been in bigger trouble for not following directions.

Several years later, I hit high school and all the terrible things that can happen there. The people who I wanted to be friends with seemed to frequently forget to invite me to the things they did over the weekend. In my mind, they were the cool kids. They were at Denny's all the time. There were parties. All things I would hear about on Monday and would wonder why I was not included, when that girl over there, the one they talked bad about and said they didn't like was invited. There were other things too, but for who was high school marvelous? I finally found a spine and wandered off to hang out with people who seemed happy to see me. They were inviting and fun and I was invited to the movies and bowling and parties. We went to the beach and had bonfires. I finally found a group where I fit in and those people are still my friends. I'm in touch with the others, but that's about it.

That doesn't mean that I still don't have a deep need to feel included. I know it's silly, but I want to feel like a part of things. I get really upset when I feel like I am left out. This gets me in trouble sometimes as I tend to overextend myself by doing everything, but having a calendar helps. With my last romance, this issue was the straw. I asked for more inclusion and he wasn't able to provide that. Since I am posting to the future, I don't know if this is something than can and will be fixed, or if it is something that I will be more careful of in the future. Knowing I have an issue with this and how negatively it can affect me really helps though. Getting it out in the open helps more. I can't fix the past, but I can try to make a better future.

Arbitor of my Reality

In my line of work, I come across a lot of business names. Some are silly, some are boring, and some create a word picture like no other.

Today I happened across one that made me think. that happens sometimes too. Then I lose my train of thought and forget to tell you all about whatever I was thinking about. That's the real reason that sometimes I don't blog often. The other reason is it's all drama. Lately, I'm trying to hide the drama.

Not the point.

The name of the business was something about engineering. and reality, which got me to start thinking, what if we could go to a company and have them create our reality? What if we could walk in, tell them what we want, and they make it our life?

What would you choose?

I believe, ultimately, that we ARE the engineers of our reality. That we create our worlds with our thoughts as well as our actions. You HAVE to take action though. It doesn't do yo any good to just sit and want your life to change, you have to take an active role in it.

So I have to ask again, what would you do if you knew you could choose your reality?

I know what I want next. It just seems as though I get in my own way. Sigh.

Positive thinking, right?

In which I fall madly in love...

... With Louise.

Every year, Kings Beach Tahoe hosts fireworks on the third of July. This is the first year I have been able to attend them. I have to say, it was pretty nice.

By far, though, the best part of the evening happened something like this:

We were driving a bit looking for a parking spot when we saw our friends Grant and Louise walking on the side of the road. Like any good friend, I stuck my head out the window and started hooting and hollering.

"Wooo! OW! Nice Bootie!" (yes, I really did say bootie)

Some strange reasonably young man replied, "Dude, lady, calm down" the rest was lost, but it was obvious that he thought I was hitting on him.

to which Louise replied, "She was talking to me."

apparently this shut down his attitude.

I love Louise.

The moral of the story is, don't assume its for you.

In which I am compared to a mythical creature

It was a lovely Sunday. My friends were floating the river. I couldn't float the river with them because I needed to be at the Farmer's Market selling soap and spinning wool.

Instead of pouting at home over my broken heart and the fact that my friends were off having fun without me, I headed down to the river to wait for them, enjoy the sunshine, and indulge in my new favorite summertime activity.

Blowing bubbles.

Somehow, I missed my friends, but I did find a fellow who was quite fascinated with the vision of me with my feet in the water blowing bubbles. I let him play a little too. When his friend caught up, we chatted a bit, and they told Gandhi (who had arrived at this point) and I that we were like those ladies in the river in the movie "O Brother Where Art Thou"

A siren is a lovely thing to be compared to, and given that, they went their way before we tempted them further from thier path. I don't get flirted with often (by men under 50), so I was appreciative of the compliment.

They did circle back, but by then Gandhi and I had discovered that we missed the group and were on our way to find them. They were nice fellows, and I may have brushed them off a bit, for which I feel a little guilty, but I also don't think I'm in a good position to get to know anyone. And I'm sure a couple of friendly fellows like them had no trouble finding companionship!

Horrifying photos

We have already discovered that I have a lot of weird fears.

I discussed at some point last week that I will not willingly put my hand somewhere I can't see into.

I just remembered something else that gives me the heebie jeebies.

Before I begin, let me explain to you that I love swimming pools. They are all clean and nice and there are no water plants. Typically, you can see the bottom.

But I hate the skimmer. I don't mind taking the lid off to look in there, but I will not reach in from poolside.

So you can imagine my horror when I found this picture:

(Photo compliments of Liberty Pool & Spa)

THERE'S A BABY IN THE SKIMMER!!!

I'll be curled up under my desk if you need me. Maybe not. Its dark under there. There could be things lurking.

They are out to get me (pt5)

I can't believe I had 5 days of bug stories to tell.

Once upon a time I went to Hawaii to see my dear friends get married. This was before I began blogging in earnest. I was alone because I had just gone through a breakup so I was alone. In a house full of other wedding guests.

ANYWAY

I came home from exploring one day to an empty house. Since it's pretty muggy there, I hopped into the shower.

Now, I knew before I went to HI that there wer gigantic roaches there. This is the reason why I decided not to go to college in HI. I dislike the roaches THAT MUCH. But for the visit, I could handle them.

They were in my room, but I ignored them and they ignored me and we were fine. It helped that I had my own room at that point AND that I could hear the ocean in there. glorious.

One night a friend of mine tried to kill one. he jumped on it. He bounced up and down a couple of times. He lifted his foot and it came running towards me! EEK!

So, I'm in the shower all nakid n stuff because that tends to be how I am when I am in the shower. I went to reach for my soap and I saw this:

Disclaimer: not Bubbly Creations Soap. It would be another year before I started my company.

That damn thing sat there waving and laughing at me while I washed with Noxema. It was awful.

I swear they are out to get me (pt4)

how the heck does one person have so many horrifying bug stories?

Remember that apartment where I lived next door to my boyfriend? Well, pretty soon he decided that he couldn't afford it on his own so he moved to a different one with a roommate. That didn't work out, so he got a different rommate and then moved across the street. Then I decided I couldn't do it on my own anymore and invited BOTH of them to move into my place where we all lived happily (mostly) for several years.

The roomate was great. She pretty much lived in her room, coming out to go to work and to get the pizza she pretty well lived on. She paid her bills and kept to herself.

One day though, after the Boyfriend and I had ended things and he moved out, the manager needed to spray for bugs on the back patio. Access to said patio was through the roomates room.

It turns out, her room was a pretty big mess and it was declared a fire hazard. We were told to clean it up.

I think she pulled 5 large trash bags of stuff out of her room that day. Apparently, that was good enough because the landlady didn't fine us or kick us out.

But there was one little thing.

Now, I'm not at all blaming this on the roomate. The people next door had JUST moved out so I don't really know where this came from.

But one night, I was sleeping in my bed. And I woke up to feel something crawling on me. Near my collarbone. INCHES from my face. So I reach up and grabbed it.

Only this time, I didn't throw it across the room. This time I decided to break habit and take a look at what was in my bed.

it looked something like this:

There was a roach. Of normal size. in my bed. I am surprised at how calm I was. I threw him in the toilet. I watched him go down the hole. I checked my bed and went back to sleep. The next day, I lined every available surface with Boric Acid. and never had another cockroach (of the insect kind. ahem) in my bed again.

Little Bliss List

I almost forgot this today.

It was a good week in many ways, and a tough one in others. I'm really trying not to dwell on the hurts and am making sure that I am doing healthy things. So, here is my list.

1. Lotsa blog inspiration. Silly little things that I want to share.
2. Exploring one of my broken parts and sharing why I am that way. It was that broken part that has been the catalyst for so much ouchie in the last week and while my feelings were and are valid, and it's something that needed to be said, it is still good for me to talk about my feelings and work on repairing that part so it doesn't cause trouble in the future. Check back next Sunday for that discussion.
3. POSTING AHEAD! I have so much going on in my head right now that I have been posting to the future and it's FUN!!
4. Fireworks over Lake Tahoe.
5. Blowing bubbles on the bank of the Truckee River (and at Lake Tahoe)
6. Quality time with friends. I think this is a repeat from last week, but I can't even begin to express how much it has meant to me to have them near and to be busy and social.

painting by Wendy Smith. Found on website http://www.fineartamerica.com/

Gratuitous Heebie Jeebies (Out to get me pt 3)

Photo compliments of geckosunlimited.com

I mentioned the other day that we used to regularly get rather large centipedes in our house.

They looked like that one up there.

Since we had small children in the house (yes, Pie and Brother were once tots. They haven't always been bigger than me) and I am (secretly) an overprotective big sister, I would catch them.

With a paper plate.

And flush them down the toilet.

This could easily be the end of the story but for one thing.

We lived in the country. We had a septic tank.

I was always afraid those 'pedes would some crawling back out of the toilet and bit me in the butt. They never did. But they could have!

I swear they are out to get me (pt2)

I used to say that the best way to "live with" a boyfriend would be to have him live next door. That way you are near each other but still have your own space.

I actually did this. It was kind of awesome. I recommend it.

I tend to be a bit of a packrat. I've gotten MUCH better over the years, but it's safe to say that the apartment I loved in was full.

The boyfriend is a minimallist. I tend to be attracted to those. At my house? Furniture galore! At his house, there was an inflatable couch (eventually a futon) and sleeping on the floor.

One night, not long after we moved into our apartments (he got his first, then mine opened up) I was sleeping over. On the floor.

Now, I don't know if you know this byt San Diego, in general, has bugs. Not just your standard bugs, but if you are anywhere near the water, you get water bugs. In FL they call them Palmetto bugs.

Gigantic Roaches.

They aren't as bad as they are in FL. Or HI (STILL another story!!). But they are there. In fact, when I was in Americorps, my roommate moved out of our room because they kept crawling up her leg. I think she even found one in her bed. But I digress.

So, I'm fast asleep on the floor when I wake up with something crawling upon me. And by me I mean right in the area of my collarbone. INCHES from my face.

I very calmly reached up, grabbed it, and threw it across the room where it landed with an audible thump.

By the way, despite the mess, I only ever saw one of these in my apartment. It was skittering (yes, audibly. I'm loving that word today) across the dining room table. I tried to get the cat to take care of it, but she didn't really seem to understand what I wanted her to do. I don't remember how it was handled.

I swear they are out to get me (pt 1)

I am not a big fan of insects and other bugs. Some are worse than others for me. Heaven forbid I should (knowingly) be in the same room with a cockroach. More on that later.

I was inspired by this post to tell the following story about creepy crawlies...

A couple of days ago I posted about how when I was a kid we lived in a place that had a lot of trees. There were a lot of trees because we lived out in the middle of nowhere. Trees, rocks, dirt. And bugs. Lots of them.

Spiders were a constant. It was not unusual for us to find tarantulas and what we called "wolf" spiders were prevalant in the house. I don't actually know what kind they were. As were scorpions and centepedes. 15 cm centepedes. But that's another story.

When we moved into the house in the country, my seester got her own room (which is STILL another story) and I shared with my little sister, Pie. Brother had a little alcove off of Pie and my main room. After Seester moved out, instead of moving into her room, we moved Brother out of his alcove and moved me into it. It was just slightly less wide than a twin mattress, which me shoved into the end part of the room, and this is where I slept. Pie and Brother had twin beds, I had a mattress on the floor and was thrilled to finally have my own little space.

Fast forward a couple of months and I wake up one night with a bad feeling. That feeling was crawling up my leg.

To this day, I don't know what it was. But it was big enough that I was able to reach down under the covers, grasp it, and throw it accross the room where it landed on something with an audible noise.

It wasn't until later that I worried that perhaps it could have gone after my brother next since his bed was next in line.

A few weeks later, I happened to mention to my dad on the phone that we found a scorpion in the laundry. Within days I do believe that I had a pretty new daybed to sleep on. (the daybed JUST fit lengthwise in the alcove. It took up about half the width, with my two nightstand/dressers taking up almost the other half. There was just enough room for my legs between the objects. Needless to say, my area was never a mess...)

(this photo was taken after we left the house in the country. I was 15. I think I finally retired that nightgown when I was 22 or so. I didn't grow much after 8th grade...)

We're still funny from Friday

Bratty tends to get the music from Super Mario Brothers stuck in her head. Which means that she will sing it thorughout the day. Which means that one or both of us is singing along to the Super Mario Brothers game playing on our heads.

Original NES style.

So I played "Super Mario Brothers Ghost". You know, Boo? Who I always think should be called Boo Radley but everyone knows that's the guy from "To Kill a Mockingbird", which is what I think about when I talk about putting stuff in the knotholes of trees. Depositrees.

I was nearly biting Bratty's head when I realized that the guy accross the way (who tends to be amused by our antics far more than he is crankypants, BTW) could SEE me making scary hands and fangy face at Bratty so I retreated the two feet back to my chair, embarassed and giggly.

I don't even think he noticed. But he was cranky pants that day. (which was Friday but I'm posting to the future again)