The week that was

The last week had me working harder than I usually do, longer hours, more physical labor, and less time to think, let alone post.

I was looking forward to a relaxing weekend. I did get to sleep in today, but once I got up, I realized that I had better get my chores done. I was dreading this--I really just need a day or two of nothing to do to get back to my normal state of being. But laundry waits for no man, and my sister is knee-deep in renovation/redecorating projects, which means my time is still not my own.

We started a reupholstering project that she had envisioned: Removing the pale-colored fabric from our dining room chairs and bar stools, and replacing them with a black fabric with a delicate gold diamond pattern. Since we have a black-and-gold area rug under the dining room table, this fabric is a much better match. We had left the pale fabrics for convenience sake only, since we hadn't had the time to do more.

She is also remodeling her bathroom, but had come to a stalling point. She needs to pick up some large pieces of plywood and backer board to retile her bathroom countertop, but she needs my brother to pick them up, because he has a truck and we don't. Since he couldn't come by until tomorrow, she decided we should work on the reupholstering project today.

She asked if I wanted to help, and I said "Sure." She does a lot for me, and I'm happy to help her. However, she is the talented one when it comes to this stuff, so I generally always ask if I can be limited to the 'destructive' tasks, rather than the creative ones.

That's how I found myself seated on the floor of the living room, watching a bunch of shows that we had TiVo'd but hadn't viewed, all while pulling innumerable staples from the shredding fabric on multiple chairs. Fun Saturday!

We're still not done, but I'll be babysitting my brother's kids tomorrow, so I won't get much done then. That's probably a good thing, because my hands are aching from prying up staples, and my back is a mess from being hunched over most of the day.

So how was your week?

Remiss

I have been lax in my posting of late. This week has me swamped at work, and when I get home I am so tired that I can't even think straight. I can't guarantee that my brain is even in gear as I type this.

Hopefully, I will get caught up on my sleep soon so I'll have something worthwhile to share with you in a few days.

In the meantime, have some chocolate. It's what I would do if I was bored. :)

Reflection

The outer eye sees much the same as it did last year

A few more gray hairs
heralding the passage of time

New wrinkles wreath my eyes
evidence of a year filled with laughter and smiles

The inner eye sees more

What I had long pursued has shifted focus
and I see more clearly what I truly desire

A soul that stopped attending church
but found its faith

Bonds of love and loyalty to family
strengthened as challenges were faced

A new friend, thousands of miles away
who has rejuvenated my zest for life

And the longing for another who is not my own
But who will remain in my heart long after our time together passes

Fears faced and conquered,
Joy discovered unexpectedly

These reflections wash over me
as a new year marches on

Intensive Purposes

One thing that I have noticed in some blogs is this statement: "For all intensive purposes...."

I'm not normally one who corrects people. My mom always said "You don't correct adults--it's not polite." So unless I really can't tell what a person meant to say, I just go with what they said.

But c'mon, really? Have they never read the phrase in writing? "Intents and purposes," people.

Although it makes me curious--what would an intensive purpose be?

OMG! They killed Kenny! (not really about South Park)

I've missed a couple of episodes of Battlestar Galactica this season, and I feel a little out of the loop. My friend e-mailed today, asking if we could discuss this week's episode, and I had to confess that I haven't seen it. He made me promise to download it after work, because he's "ready to burst "over it.

I have now done that, and watched the episode. I don't want to spoil it for all 1 of you people reading here, but what the frak?

So I e-mailed him to start the conversation, but apparently he had better things to do than to sit around, waiting for my e-mail. "Ready to burst," indeed!

Cracks of Time

I fit you into the cracks of time
the spaces between what must happen
to keep life moving forward

Stolen moments
nestled between obligations
that’s where I meet you

Your music breathes life into me
My heart beats again
and I sing

Your words speak to my soul
washing away the stains
of my sojourn

I would widen the spaces
to fill my life with you
but that is not to be

These cracks of time are moments
unnoticed in this world
that bring me to you

And I am replenished

© 2006 pac611

The Ocean Cries

Rainfall woke me, but the benevolent deities heard my heart’s cry. The gods of wind and sky blew away the clouds, leaving a crystal dome for the sun’s rays to glint on the waters. I return to my mistress, the sea. My heart was lost to her as a child, and I never wish to regain it.

Slowly I make my way to the water’s edge. The dunes sink beneath my feet, leaving what seems to be an indelible mark. But it is an illusion, for nothing here lasts. As I tread the shore, trailing footprints, I reflect on my impermanence. I leave my mark for but a while, soon to disappear in the unceasing tide.

The sea erases the sins of man, and I come to be cleansed. I hesitate, needing to be washed but fearing the sting. She knows this, and rushes to greet me. The baptismal font flows, washing me, drawing out the stains. Anger, regret, heartbreak, all flood away in the tide.

I stand on the shore and weep

for Beauty and Joy
for Laughter and Friendship and Love
for Finding and Losing
for Hoping against hope
for Acceptance

I have left my mark in the lives of some. In time it will fade, only a memory and faint. I will be gone, as swiftly as my footfalls are washed away in the tide. But one day another young woman will come to the shore and weep, and she will find me there. For my soul belongs to the sea, and I will find my final rest there.

© 2006 pac611

The Living Cathedral

I went to pay homage at the living cathedral

bright blue sky adorned ceiling

pulse of the ocean hymns

rolling waves sermon

And spirits hovered over me

white-winged, golden-eyed

Crying in a tongue I could not speak

yet fully comprehended

I, the penitent

wayward soul

returning to hear once more

"Welcome home, child"

And I worshiped

© 2006 pac611

Cold Bones

The cold seeped into my bones
chilling my core
till my soul felt frozen in place

Unable to move
to dance, to sing
I waited for the thaw

Then you came
alight with a fire of your own
I was drawn in

You engulfed me
but there was no burn
only blessed warmth

Freed by your fire
I have feet again, and voice
alive in your flame

© 2006 pac611

Walking Man

I like to watch men walk. A man crossed the street in front of me today as I was driving home. He had a long overcoat on, as the weather was turning cold, and he was putting an earpiece in place, either for his iPod or cell phone.

His strides were confident, sure, quick without being a jog. His whole body moved fluidly, no hesitation.

I know that not all men walk like this, but these are the ones who catch my eye. Perhaps it seems foreign to me because so many women wear shoes that make bold walking difficult. But men can convey their power and virility in something as simple as a step.

And I notice.

The Journey of Words

I gave life to you
Lips, tongue, teeth, breath
Your creator
Once I breathed you to life
You had free will
And all I can do is wait
To see if you will return to me
And in what form

Like some “Where’s George?” game
I can trace your path once I set you on your course
But I can no longer direct you
Nor force my will upon you
Once spoken, you have life
And cannot be unmade

I sent you to him
Full of intent
But with your own will
You conveyed a different message

You return to me through him
The same, but different
A tone I did not speak
The message missed its mark

He received you
My creation
But he did not receive me
Your will imposed upon mine
Telling him what I did not say

© 2006 pac611

Spam-tastic

I have a few types of spam that I typically get in my e-mail.

First are the bogus "You've won...." offers.

Next are the "Increase your penis size" lies.

Followed by the "I'm a young horny girl" solicitations.

But now there's a new one. "Increase your sperm by 500%." I'm not sure what the attraction of this is. It doesn't seem to be aimed at infertile couples. I'm guessing it's a volume thing?

Either way, it makes no difference to me. I'm a girl--if I increase my sperm count by 500%, it's still gonna be zero.

The Cold Wind

The cold wind blows
the empty shell down the well-traveled road.
Bumping into obstacles makes no difference
to the empty shell, because it is hollow
And cannot feel.

The road is familiar
though there are some new twists in the path.
In spots mud sucks the shell in, threatening to consume it
But the wind dries the mud and blows the shell along.

Strangers see the shell, but it doesn’t register in their memory
because it is just an empty shell, not worth noticing.

Till the cold wind blows
the empty shell to a resting place
where the wind cannot reach.
The howling subsides,
and the shell abides
in anticipation of being

Filled again.

© 2006 pac611

Work for Food

Started my new job today. Though it will take me a couple of weeks to get into the 'groove', it's obvious already that it's going to be a fairly simple job. In fact, it will become mindless rather quickly.

This is okay, because I'll need to not be taxing my brain once school starts again. However, during the summer, while I have no classes, I'm certain that I will be bored stiff.

But I'm grateful for the job, because it will provide me with an adequate (not significant) income, allowing me to continue my education and still have a little social life. With the new gentleman friend that I am seeing, the need to fund a social life has increased. :)

Infatuation

So I've recently started seeing a new gentleman. He is sweet and funny, smart and articulate, creative and kind. I like him a lot, and I want to make sure I don't mess up with him. Not that I typically do mess up, but I'm extra nervous about this one, because it has so much potential.

I've never been a good dater. I'm a little shy in social situations, and tend to get overwhelmed in crowds. Smaller, more intimate settings definitely work better for me, but those aren't typically what you get in the early stages of dating.

But my sweetie came over to my house yesterday, and we spent several hours sitting outside under the gazebo, enjoying each other's company and the beautiful day. We went for a walk later, his arm around me, holding me close.

Little moments like that keep me going--I can deal with all of the stress and BS that the world throws at me, as long as I have the moments of tenderness and companionship that feed my soul.

Up & at 'em

It's been a long time...I'm still in school, but now I'm dating. I waited a long time after my divorce before I started dating, for various reasons. But now I'm "back in the saddle again", and it's kind of weird.

I'm a relatively shy person, and have always had difficulty meeting men. That, coupled with the fact that I am euphemistically called "full-figured" (i.e.-overweight), and you get a woman who doesn't often attract men, especially in the SoCal meat market.

But I started looking online, and I've met some really cool people. Not everyone is to be believed, for sure, but I try to be honest, and so far I've met a few sweet guys. In fact, I started a blog on a dating site, and now that I'm better at it, I remembered my little bloggy here and decided to come back and get it going again.

I'll write something interesting soon, I promise! For now, it's enough to be back.

You oughta be in pictures

Makin' Music

Well, strangers, it's been a while. I forgot I even had a blog! But here I am again.

I squeaked by in my Musicianship class--I didn't think there was a chance I would pass, but I did, so now I get to move on in my never-ending quest to make something of my life.

Not that I have decided what I want to make of my life--there are a few appealing options, but I'm not really sure what my chances are. But I'm in no rush--it'll come in the same amount of time whether I stress about it or not.

My nephew, whom I pointed in the right direction, has far surpassed my meager guitar-playing skills. Yet he continues to pay homage to me, which is flattering. I suppose if I spent 7 hours a day practicing, I'd be good too.

I spell dum?

I got an e-mail from some unknown person saying they hate my blog, 'lern' to spell, and you are 'dum'. I have no idea who this person is, or how he would have found my private e-mail, since I don't give it out to people. And since I haven't posted to this blog since last summer, and there are no misspellings that I could find, it makes me wonder: Why spew venom out on someone who doesn't even know you? Is it spam? If so, my filter missed it.

I don't want to reply and confirm my active e-mail address to some stranger. What a weird world this is.

Home Sweet Shower

I spent 14 days traveling this summer. First trip was 10 days--Yellowstone, Grand Teton, Devil's Tower, Mount Rushmore, and Grand Canyon. Second trip was 4 days--Acadia. And now I'm back home, and school has started. I've got to find a job soon, because I spent all of my money on school registration and books. The trips were gratis--I went with my brother & his kids. He paid for my costs and I helped watch the kids. Not a bad exchange!

Anyhow, while I thoroughly enjoyed the trips, I am quite glad to be home. There's nothing like your own bed, and ESPECIALLY your own shower, to make you feel like you can handle life. Hotel showers suck. I think next time I'll bring my own shower curtain. Instead of fighting the tissue-paper-thin piece of crap that the hotel hangs up, I'll have a nice, thick plastic curtain that does not leak and does not stick and actually lets you spend enough time under the water to get clean.

The other thing that sucks about traveling is that you don't know the food. For example, a garden salad in California is generally iceberg lettuce, carrots, perhaps some red cabbage, and some sort of tomatoes. But twice in Maine the salads were lettuce, green onions, and red and green bell pepper. I don't like green onions or any color bell peppers. You think you know what you're going to get when you order a 'garden salad', but I guess you gotta ask.

I already have loads of school work to do, so I shouldn't be online, but here I am! Anyhow, let me know what you did this summer, and whether you'd do it again. Or not--I'm pretty easy.