Phone Call

My best friend in the whole wide world, RedRat, called me tonight. We haven't talked in about a year. I think I called her when I moved to Seattle. I think.

She called to wish me a happy birthday, and, truly, that was the best gift I could have been given. I love her so much, and I've missed her so much and I had so much to tell her, but I could never find the words. There have been so many times this past year that I've wanted to call her up and cry on her shoulder, but I always felt awkward, since I'd have to bring her up to speed on things that I didn't know how to vocalize, and then when I didn't call, the things I hadn't told her just increased.

We talked for a hour and a half.

I told her about ExOfNote and his desire to end his life, and Musician and his lack of desire to date me. I told her about my lousy job and my psycho former roommate PuppyDogsAndBows.

She told me gooey, gooey news. She's (shh, Mumsy, don't tell too many people) hoping I can visit her sometime after September so that I can see the latest addition to the family. I am so happy for her. Being a mom is something she has wanted as long as I can remember, and she'll make a most excellent one.

Before all of this started she did have one thing to say to me, "Gorp, can I ask you a question? And I want you to be totally honest, and I'll be totally honest."

"Sure." Can you guess what she was going to ask? I did.

"Do you have a nose jewel?"

We talked about the when and the why and she assured me that I'm "beautiful with out it" and that I "don't need it to be unique". I love her so much. I'm not sure she understood that I didn't do it to make myself more unique, or because I think I need it to be beautiful. She was heartened when I told her it is a phase I fully intend to outgrow. She was a little disheartened when I told her I wasn't planning on outgrowing it this year.

She is one of those people who makes you want to be a better person, but doesn't judge you for falling short. I wish I could be more like that. I mean, I'm accepting of most everyone, but I don't think by virtue of hanging around me they have a desire to improve themselves. That's the part that I'd like to emulate.

I did tell her that I'm Sunday School teacher. Her reaction: "OH! I bet you're a great Sunday School teacher! I'd love to sit in on one of your classes." I'd love that, too.

Black Summer

Somedays I listen to the song ExOfNote's brother wrote for/about me right after...you know... over and over and over again, and I just cry. I cry because I wish it were true, and I cry because it can't be, and I cry because I'm the only one who has any influence on any of those factors.

And then, I try to tell myself that it isn't really about me. I never quite believe that lie.

A Poem For You

I wrote this a long time ago for the man I thought I was going to marry. I thought I'd never feel that way again, and scarred myself half to death when I started thinking that I could.

My soul
          stands    naked
before you.

          Unclothed,
and
     waiting
               for criticism

which never

     comes.

Downhill From Here

I had a dream Saturday night. I was driving my car in the city. I was headed down a steep hill. The incline was so great that I had to shift down to first gear and was still riding the breaks to keep from flying through red lights, of which I hit all. I went through light after light, down incline after incline after incline. I never really reached the bottom, or my destination, both seemed non-existent.

Dream interpreters would tell me that this means I should proceed with extreme caution, as rough times are ahead. Man, I hope they're wrong.

Seasons

Tomorrow is my birthday, and I'm excited. It seems as the years go by, and I age and age nothing much changes, but I know so much does. I'm not the same woman I was 10 years ago, or 5, but what about one? Am I the same woman I was last year? I have to say 'no'. I've changed jobs, I've changed states. I've had heartaches and I've had tragedies. I've grown, but have I?

What have I learned from all of these things? Mainly: only perseverance and faith will get you through. There will be day when your nightmares haunt you, and nights when your dreams seem impossible fantasies, but there will also be nights when your reality is more than what you could conjure in your mind, and days that are enchanted. Unfortunately, living for the latter will only make the former all the more difficult. Holding firm to your faith in whatever god you worship will make those rough spots bearable and help you get to the smooth patches.

Did I learn that this year? More than anyone could possibly imagine. Has it changed me? Only for the better, I hope.

So, as I approach another year, for what do I hope? What dreams do I want to come true? Honestly, I hope that this year is better than last, that I manage to overcome my darker demons, and that I discover in myself even more strength and beauty than I think I have.

A Hug, Like Some Other

A dear guy friend of mine, Engineer, is a hugger. I like it. I'm a hugger, too, especially when the person on the other side of said hug is a he. (As context: Engineer was the boy I went "snowboarding" with last month.)

A couple of weeks ago Engineer came up behind me as I was sitting down and wrapped his arms around me in a standing hug. It was amazingly similar to the way ExOfNote used to hug me when he would come up behind me while I was on the computer. It was tender, sweet, slightly awkward, and a tinsy-bit possessive. I loved it. All of those things made it my hug: the one I knew I was the only woman to ever receive from him. So, you can imagine the emotions that said hug managed to trigger within me. I've done little but I think about ExOfNote—brushing my hair I remember how he would caress my head; washing my hair I remember how he loved the smell, I wonder if he would, still; sitting on the couch I think of how we would cuddle there, just enjoying each other's company. I. can't. get. him. out. of. my. head.

That's why I haven't written much, I'm afraid I would fill page after page on him, when he's the last person on whom my thoughts should be dwelling.

I've tried to drowned out the voices and the thoughts by watching movies. Movie after movie has played constantly on my computer when I've been home alone. I've tried to read him out: I'm on my second book this week. I've tried to flirt him out, but no guy I talk to seems to compare. So, I do what I do best in times like this: I build up the walls that keep others out, and I art. I painted last night, and I'm quite pleased with it. I think it needs a touch more work—mostly in the black areas, but, generally, I'm satisfied. What does this painting mean? Mostly, that I love my art, that it gives me a voice I can't find in type. But, more than that, perhaps, that you can't hide emotions from your art. The minute you press brush to canvas, they're there, whether you want them to be, or not.

Hello Kind World

It's been a while. Have you missed me?

Yeah, I thought not.

So, what have I been up to, you're wondering. Well, sadly, not much. Work has gotten not more exciting, but certainly more, uh, interesting, for lack of a better word. Things have finally slowed down enough that I can take the time I need to write some decent code. I had forgotten what it's like to not be permanently stressed out and over worked. In fact, this week I've been leaving on time almost every day. What a great, giant mercy that has been. Well, I suppose that's all for this post. The next one will have some more interesting things, just you wait.

Snow Storm, Bringing Us Together, Once Again

We had another major snow storm in the Seattle area--we ended up with 2 inches on the Island at the time of this writing.

I called up Musician at 4:30 to tell him that he should get while the getting was good. I got his machine, and left him a message. He called me back to thank me for the info, and to offer me a ride. I'm no dummy, the ride with him promised to be far more pleasant than the ride on the bus.

It took us over an hour to make the drive which in normal rush hour conditions takes 20 minutes if you're driving. We had a pleasant time. I still like him. Bah!!

Ninja called me around 7:30 to see if I was home. I was, and she announced that she was coming over. In fact, she told me, she was sitting in front of my place that very minute trying to determine if I was home. I invited her over, like I had a choice!

We spent the next 3 hours talking and enjoying one another's company. She was on the Island for work today, and the roads were just too packed to get home. Lurch knew she was here and when he finally got home he called and tried to invite himself over. Sadly, I turned him down and told him that we were having a girls' night in, and, sorry, he couldn't join us. Not very nice of me for him, but very nice of me for her—she doesn't reciprocate his feelings, unfortunately.

We talked a whole bunch about ExOfNote, and how things were when I was with him. I think it was really good for me to talk through some of the things that have been bothering me about him and our past relationship that I can't talk about with anyone else. I don't know why she seems to be a 'safe' person to talk to about it, but she is, and I'm indebted.

While she was here she used my washroom, and after she left I had to do the same. I walked in to discover that the book sitting at the top of the stack on the back of my toilet (oh, whatever, you know you have reading material in there, too) happens to be a book on surviving trauma that I just re-picked up a few days ago. People seem to be there when you need them most, don't they?

Nose

I have long been at odds with my nose. It's not that I dislike it, it's that I don't understand it. I have spent too much time wondering why my nose 'seems to think I'm Black.' I offer as pictorial evidence, the image to the right of your screen: my nose (I promise).

You will notice, I'm sure, the wide base, very typical of African American features. This is a totally fine feature, unless, of course, the person possessing it happens to be a pale red head! In that case, it looks considerably out of place.

I won't bore you with endless details on how not white my nose looks, just, well, see for yourself.

Last week I made a realization that for some strange reason came as a shock to myself: it's not that my nose thinks it's Black, it's that my nose knows something my brain (while trying to figure it out) had completely discarded: I'm not totally Caucasian. That's right kids: my nose is more aware than my brain that I'm American Indian.

That small reminder has managed to realign the chi of who I am. I am Native American, not only do I know it, but so does my nose!

I no longer puzzle why my nose thinks it's Black, instead, I puzzle why it took my brain so long to make the connection, after all, I have a very strong Native American profile. No, you don't get to see.

MRI

I had an MRI on Friday. What does it all mean? Beats me. I'll find out Tuesday or Wednesday if I've done any serious damage. Since the pain seems to be subsiding, and I'm walking a whole lot better, I'm thinking I just sprained it.

On a side note, my dearest Mumsy told me the other day that maybe I should master the fundamentals, like walking before I try anything else new.

To her, I say, "pfftttttt" (complete with tongue sticking out).

Birthday

Ninja's birthday was on the 4th, so at dinner we joked about asking 'the band' to play her Happy Birthday. During the set break Nurse did just that. When they got back up to play Musician said, "This song goes out to a very special senorita. Senorita Ninjita." She was mortified, in a good way. They played and sang to her, meanwhile, she half glared at me as I sang along. "Yeah! You'd better be singing!!" She ordered! Ahh, good times.

During our birthday wishes I said, "Happy Birthday, Ninja. We're glad you had a birthday, but we're sad you're graduating." Then, we had to explain to my friend what it means to graduate. Here's a quick definition: See, we go to a Young Single Adult Ward, which is to say, every person (sans the Bishopric) is single, and young adults. The age limit of the ward is 19-31. Once you have your 31st birthday you 'graduate' and move to the Family Ward. Ninja is now 31. Poor woman.

The Gig, The Friend, The Girlfriend, and The Dad

I have a friend at work whom I have never met in person, but spent a lot of time with on the phone and IM over the course of several months as work has dictated. We hit it off quite well. Today I was teasing him about working too long, and not going out much. Then, for whatever reason, I invited him to Musician's gig tonight. I told him that a bunch of friends were headed down to this concert, and would he like to join us? He agreed. How fun!

After coordinating with everyone I picked him up at the office and we headed to the show. I had LittleBrother in the car who, when asked, explained that we were neighbors, oh, and we go to church together. At that moment the truth came out. I told him that we were actually going to see a friend of ours play, oh, and all of these friends were from church.

We all had a great time hanging out and getting to know each other better. It was kind of fun to have to explain some of our weird mannerisms to him, as he isn't Mormon (though, I had always had my suspicions that he was, until I learned for assurity tonight that he isn't.)

Also joining us for dinner were Nurse, and Musician's father. It was kind of fun to meet his dad. Quiet guy. I think he felt a bit odd hanging out with us 'young whipper-snappers.'

It was good to see Nurse, too. She's a nice girl. It was, however, annoying, since I'm still so into Musician, and it was kind of frustrating to see him interact with her as his girlfriend. A huge bit of me that still (for whatever lame reason) likes him, was rather jealous. I wonder if he'll ask my about my friend that I brought. We'll see. Frankly, he probably doesn't care in the same way that I care about seeing Nurse around, but, I hope he felt a few pangs of jealousy. Yeah, right.

After dinner I took my friend home, he thanked me for bringing him out, and for the good time. I'm glad he enjoyed himself. He's a fun kid, hopefully he'll hang out with us some more. I'd love to expand our little group to not just be those people we know from our ward.

Biggest. Fan. Ever.

Lurch called me up Wednesday night, desperate for a date idea for Friday. I asked him if he was planning on asking Ninja out. He said yes, then I gave him some bad news, Ninja and I were planning on going to Musician's concert on Friday night. Perhaps, however, I told him, they could do something before, then meet me at the venue. He agreed. I did neglect to tell him, however, that I would probably be bringing other people. Whoops, my bad!

This morning I found myself sending text messages to 10 people, inviting them to come. I got a fair number of positive responses, then when I was sending someone at work the link to the event I discovered that Beat Walk runs May - December (Musician's band is one of the participants of said Beat Walk). Now that I had Lurch and Ninja going to that, and 4 or 5 other people I decided that I had better double check to make sure the gig was still on. Who better to call than Musician himself.

I rang him up. He answered with, "Hey Girl, what's going on?"
"Not much!" (exchange of pleasantries.) "Hey, are you doing the show tonight?"
"Yeah! Are you planning on coming?"
"Well, of course! I'm, like, you're 12th biggest fan!"

Some Habits Die Hard, Others Are Murdered

With permission.

When I was younger Mumsy used to not carry a purse. Who needs one when you have a bra?

She kept everything in her bra. Keys, her pager, folded up dollar bills, a coin purse, a pen—or two. I have reason to believe she probably kept her romance novels in there. This, you'll be thrilled to know, is something she learned at her mother's knee. My maternal grandmother kept her cigarettes (yes, the whole pack) in her bra. Unlike my mother, however, she probably also kept a flask of something to warm a woman up on a cold winter night next to the smokes.

We all just accepted this as a fact of life. We didn't love it, but that's the way things were. Where by 'we all' I mean my siblings and I, excluding my brother. It kind of bothered him, and can you blame him? A simple request for the car keys left her routing around in her underwear. That'll damage any teenage boy.

One day my siblings and I were sitting around the kitchen table talking and laughing. My brother, unbeknownst to us, had made some preparations. "Hey guys," he said, "who am I?" And with that, he reached down his shirt and into the paper sack he was holding between his knees. At first simple items emerged from his shirt—a pen, mom's coin purse, a pager... then came the stuffed animals and the animal balloon and the dictionary... We were all laughing so hard tears were streaming down our faces.

Then, the unthinkable happened.

Mumsy heard our laughter and came searching for the cause.

At first, out of shear self-preservation, mass refusal and denial took place. However, being The MOTHER we eventually bowed to her supreme rule. My brother restocked the bag, and asked her, oh, so innocently, "Who am I?" With that simple question more items were drawn from the grocery bag. Mumsy quickly recognized herself and joined in our appreciative laughter.

No one was more relieved than my brother when she returned to keeping only the items the manufactures had intended in her bra.



I, on the other hand, have been known to keep chapstick there. I mean, really, where are you supposed to put stuff when you have no pockets or purse?

Happy Knee Year!

Happy New Year all! How exciting. Now is the time we as a society feel the need to set unrealistic goals for ourselves involving weight loss, tobacco and alcohol consumption, and spending habits. You'll be thrilled to learn that (just like last year) I (once again) refuse to make any resolutions. It's just not for me.

But, here's a prediction for you: I hereby predict that I shall injure myself in a new and exciting and positively pathetic way this year. Do you think I can do it? I'll bet you a dollar I make it.

In other news: I went to the doctor today and he's sending me in to have an MRI for my knee tomorrow. When he was looking at my x-rays he asked if I had sprained this knee before. I assured him that yes, in fact, I had (that's a great story, for another day, perhaps), and he explained that it must have been relatively severe, judging from the bone buildup on the side of my knee. Joy. This one feels fairly similar to the sprain he was referencing. I was on crutches for 2 weeks with that one. Nothing too bad, but it still sucked. He told me that if I want crutches I can pick some up at the drug store, but they're not necessary. We'll know more post-MRI. I'll keep you updated.