I am sadly remiss in posting to this thing, though I love to write. I haven't been feeling inspired lately.

I wasn't really feeling "into" the whole holiday thing this year, but my beau was here, and he helped me put the tree up. I wasn't feeling sad nor depressed, in fact, accomplished that I had my shopping done, and most things that I'd wanted to make as gifts, made.

I have the best boyfriend ever, and not because he bought me the i-Pod, and not because he let me pick it out, but because he noticed it was like an "old fashioned Christmas" with my whole being sucked into the computer figuring out how to download songs and load them onto this thin silver slick-screened siren.

Everyone around me is sick, or getting over being sick or just getting started being sick. I feel like Wonder Woman, only my bullet proof bracelets are made of vitamin C.

I will enjoy the colored lights on my tree and watch a few new DVDs. Television has been really lackluster as of late. I do know almost every show, bad or good, is likely available for purchase on DVD. Even though they replaced some of the songs on the episodes of Northern Exposure, which makes me mad, I still watch, because it's funny, touching, annoying and does not insult my intelligence.

I have the new Harry Potter, but have not yet finished last year's Stephen King. It's very personal, I almost feel like I'm invading someone's private journal.

I have not exercised a whole lot these past two weeks and I feel off kilter. But also a bit light headed, which is not good around the treadmill.

I will be back into the swing of life next week. For the new year.

I miss my incredibly warm grandparents. I wonder sometimes how I turned out so "normal". But then that begs the question, what is normal, and why would I want to be that?

I like remembering first times. The first time I tried or did things. My beau reminds me that we have many more ahead of us. That is exciting and so wonderful to ponder. Some things we have yet to try, that we will love, just out there waiting for us.

I feel like I ought to be doing something more meaningful with my life. But now that I have attained the all-knowing, much anticipated, even dreaded age of 40, I find myself falling asleep on the couch most nights by 10:00 pm. Waking up at 4:00 am with the TV still on and my contacts in does NOT make me feel accomplished.

I have to adjust my life to coincide with my body betraying me.

Weight Watchers doesn't even work well for me now. I feel deceived. I have to adjust my balance of foods to achieve meager weight loss, and then feel grateful that they let me pay them every week. Bah. I've decided to buy a more accurate scale and try it all on my own.

I miss TV shows I used to tape because I'd want to watch them over and over again.

I spend time with my beau, who even after 5 years amazes me. We spent time in a local casino and had a blast wandering around playing slot machines on the same $20 for two hours. And we laughed and left before we lost our $100 lead.

I am afraid of signs at the casino parking lot that advise not to leave children unattended in the car, and that one can find child care inside. That tells me someone must have done this before.

I am not ready for the onslaught of holidays that approach. I am uncharacteristically NOT feeling into Halloween this year. I'm not sad or anything, just indifferent.

But an Elle Driver costume would ROCK. The nurse with the eye patch get-up. I'm just feeling too lazy to pursue it this year.

I miss board games and card night. I miss people living close and having more free time.

I do not miss my old couch that belonged to two others before me, and was staring to slowly sink into the floor. The new one took a whole lot of trouble to get into my apartment. And it's all comfy and supportive and tall.

So what I think I'm trying to tell myself here, is that I have a lot going on in my life. I need plenty of quiet time to myself, and that it's okay that I haven't saved the world yet. It's never too late. I may even figure out a way people in this town who live in apartments can recycle stuff.

When I was in college, I took a cinema history class. One of the units we studied was entirely devoted to Alfred Hitchcock films. I have always considered myself a movie fan, but that was the first time I understood how to watch a film for themes, camera work, lighting and all that technical stuff. That opened up a whole new way of watching films for me.

The past couple of nights, I have been watching some of these films again on television. Or perhaps for the first time. Isn't it odd how we think we've seen a movie because of all the hype or ads, but we realize we probably never have when we do see it?

What I never realized before at my oh so young and idealistic age, was how incredible the women in these films are.

They are opinionated, they speak their minds, they take risks, they go after what they want, they get into trouble, they are full of faults and charm, they have secrets, they are living, breathing, real live women. And beautiful. And blond. They are sexy and classy, a bit naughty but always ladylike, and smart!

I don't know why that never dawned on me before. I think I hadn't yet seen the way of the world. I hadn't realized yet the difference between the way the world ought to be and the way it really is.

My one question would be, did he portray women as he saw them, or as the way he thought they out to be?

I like to think he saw those things in the actresses or in the women in the stories, or maybe even the women around him.

I tip my hat to Mr. Hitchcock, and while I'm at it, to Mr. Tarantino. Thanks for making films with women that I not only love to watch, but really admire.

I have learned that a lot of things I used to think were extremely important, really aren't. I've also learned that my beau loves me very much. He remembers our anniversary of when we met. He was visiting and hid a card away to tell me where to find it on that day. I didn't even realize it was our anniversary. I felt so terrible. He said it was all right, which, of course made it even harder.

I don't think we ought to measure, weigh, or count love out. We all love the ones we love as well as we can at the moments we are having. I can't think about what I did yesterday and what he might think. I can plan tomorrows with great care and affection. I collect gifts and items to bestow upon him at random times. I send him cards in the mail for no special reason.

I don't believe I need to prove to him nor to anyone else (except maybe myself) how much I really do love him. For now, he lives in another city. Until circumstances change, that is the way it is going to stay. For the here and now, and so far, it's something I'm willing to withstand.

I believe family is not only the people one is related to by blood, but those we surround ourselves with. Those whose paths we cross, who we root for and root for us. Those that support us and that we find ourselves rooting for, listening to, hugging, consoling and celebrating. I never have enough time for those dear ones.

This year, this landmark birthday year, I find myself struggling to stay fit, to have energy and time to do all the things I want to. My body loses the battle with sleep each night when there are still tasks left undone. I find this more maddening than anything. Mind over matter not longer seems to have any hold here.

I don't need a grand house or large place to feel like I've got a claim on my own little corner of the world. I can feel just as special making jam and knitting scarves that will find their way into other's homes. I am not sure how they will feel about that, though.

I believe that a well placed and enjoyed piece of dark chocolate can be a solace in any sort of day.

I miss my grandparents, but a random talk radio statement told me today that one cannot tell how well one did as a parent until one sees one's children raise their children. If this is true, then my grandparents are perhaps the most generous, special, kind, loving, supportive, caring and "kick you in the butt if you need it" people that ever walked the earth.

I'm sure they are at peace and rest, smiling down on all of us as we flounder through our lives, wondering what the heck we are doing, and pondering what is important and what is not.

I do still like to have some things around me that sparkle, though.

I am a dichotomy.

I love having friends and family over, but I don't enjoy things being out of place when my niece has been over, playing with my toys. Or my pots and pans.

I love cooking, but I dislike having everything out of the drawers and cupboards.

I love to travel, but I love being at home, just hanging out.

I love to read, but I tend to pick up and put down books at will for weeks at a time when there seems to be something better to do.

I love making gifts for people, but I really like to look around in the stores and see what cool things they have.

I love people watching, but at times, I find people in general to be annoying.

I love concerts but hate to deal with the parking and the crush of the audience.

I love children, their spirit and optimism, but I find some of them to be a real nuisance. (I often put that on the parents, though.)

I love movies and want to see some of them in the theater, but a lot of the time, other viewers ruin it for me by talking, or sitting right next to me and executing a series of jerky movements in their seat. It makes me want to knock them unconscious.

I seem to work well under pressure, but get very angry when others question how I'm doing what I'm doing, or tell me how to do my job, instead of wait for it to be done and see the end result.

I seem to have learned to love myself, but often hate my body.

I'm healthier and more fit than I've ever been but seem to have more random aches and pains.

I like the feeling of being well rested, but I hate to go to bed, for fear that I'll miss something (what, I ask myself? a random late night talk show guest?)

I love and adore my friends, but find free time at such a premium, I don't get to see them as much as I'd like to. And then they inevitably want to make plans when I have six other things lined up. (This usually occurs after at least 6 weekends in a row of not one thing going on.)

I like to be outside, but I don't like bugs, heat, humidity, camping, or getting myself too dirty. Ditto for gardening.

I believe that is all I can come up with just now. I'm sure more will occur to me later, like just after I turn off the computer.

I'm going on a vacation. Not just time off from work to wander around with my beau or visit family, though we'll do that.

My sister and I are going on a real live "get out of town and away from everyone" type of trip. Though she's going for work and I'm just tagging along.

I feel like I've just heard the last school bell of the year ring and they have flung open the doors and I'm running home to start my summer.

Summers of playing in the backyard, in the sandbox, on the swing set.
Summers of riding bikes, visiting the bookmobile, playing with barbies outside, staying out until it was almost dark.
Summers of sunshine and tether ball.
Summers of visits to Grandma and Grandpa, walking to 7-11 to buy whatever we wanted. Summers of paying "McDonald's drive through" at the open garage window.

This time I get to see the Grand Canyon, though. I can't hardly wait.

He said he didn't get me anything for my birthday. He didn't want to buy things just to have things for me to tear wrapping paper off of. We agree having things isn't what we want. We don't want stuff you have to dust.

What he did give me was his time and attention. He always does that. He listened to me talk about places I like to go. He made a hotel reservation.

We drove up north and spent two nights near the water. We drove around to some vineyards. We ate wonderful meals and bought some things. He let me choose a restaurant for dinner. I liked that they served meals made from fresh local ingredients. They had a four page wine list and the menu changes every night. It's actually located in a former psychatric hosptial building. The waitress assured us though that it was the location of the root cellar.

We had nearly perfect weather for early May and off-season rates. We stayed next to a cute little breakfast place where the servings of corn beef hash were as big as my head. The waitress brought out samples of soup our first night so we could taste them. She asked if we wanted the cherry pie heated before the ice cream was added.

I know I had great birthdays as a kid, parties and all. I know my friends threw a surprise party in college for me. I know some dear ones got me through 33 with a slumber party and porn. That was the hardest birthday of all.

But this one seemed darned near perfect. I struggled to remember a better one. He took me away last year too, but somehow, this one seemed perfect.

He's gone now, and I'm another year older. I still get asked for ID when ordering drinks now and then. I feel pretty darned lucky and blessed and very loved and cherished. I still struggle to remember feeling better. Ever. I know I have, must have. I just can't remember it right now.

Aaah, long time I see I've not posted. Sometimes when I have things to do and not wallow, I do them and am not on the computer so much.

I've been knitting a bit more. I went with my dad to his surgeon yesterday. He had the gastric bypass nearly a year ago. I think he's lost enough weight. He's kind of fixated on weighing a certain number. I don't think that's healthy. I told him he should exercise more. I have mental pictures from actual photographs of him in high school. He wrestled and played football and basketball. He had visible muscle tone. That image, in my mind, is of a healthy, fit, active person. I hope he can see that too and maybe do some more exercise.

Who am I to talk, but I do exercise more now than I ever did. I hate to admit it, but all that they say about it is true. It helps me not feel so depressed. I have more energy, I sleep better, I feel better, my clothes fit better. I know it's better for my heart and my bones. It certainly won't hurt any of us to exercise a bit more.

My beau is in town, and he surprised me with the most wonderful pot rack above my kitchen table. I know that may not seem like the greatest thing, but it is for me. And wow, does it free up more space in the cupboards! Plus my appliances that live in the "I don't use these as much" cupboard can move closer to the action! It's wonderful that he thinks of these things AND can install them. He fixed the broken shelf inside my refrigerator too. I can put the condiments in the door!! Why though, I must ask myself, do I have so many condiments? I need 4 kinds of mustard, I swear.

I look forward to the week ahead. Time away from work and away from home. Time with friends.

I wish my sister luck in her job pursuits, the other sister I wish all safe travels and the revelation that comes from traveling to a place far away, both from home and her regular life.

My heart continues to expand with the power of the love I give, and the more I have to give.

Spring, at last is here, and I feel renewed, refreshed and for the most part, at peace with everything.

I could say that I destest the blizzard-like conditions outside my office window. But I won't.

I look forward to spring. The apartment complex trimmed the trees back that crowded around my balcony for the past few years. Hopefully the added sun will produce better results than what I've been seeing the past few summers. It's been disappointing to say the least.

Perhaps Friday the 13th has come early. Our printers and faxes are acting all wonky here at work.

Part of me WANTS to do some spring cleaning, but when I get some time at home, I knit or watch DVD's. That part must not be as big at the "I want to sit on my fat ass" part.

Will see the cutest niece in the universe this weekend as a flower girl! There will be many photos taken I am sure, as well as her mom as bridesmaid. Yet another slew of well endowed girls in strapless dresses. FUN.

I am fortunate to have escaped that fate with my dresses. They do, however, still hang in my closet, and no, I haven't worn them since. Unless you count Halloween. Ooh, dead bridesmaid, anyone?

I'm still trying to ignore the snow, but it's the kind of thing everyone talks about as they stand staring out the window, as if they've never seen it. Somehow, like trying NOT to think about going to the bathroom, that only makes it worse!

So much for this exercise in futility.

Every time I start to feel great about myself, my understanding of life and my place in the universe, I'm reminded of a feeling I have yet to learn to deal with or a battle I've yet to win with myself. Not that I don't go on feeling pretty terrific, but I am always reminded that I am a work in progress.

Lately I find most of the more profound lessons come in the form of my two year old niece.

Talk about humbling.

She loves with abandon and without limit. She always has enough kisses and hugs for everyone in the room, whether it be 2 or 20. She gets excited over small things, and doesn't fret when the balloon blows away. "It blew away", she said, as if all along, the sky was meant to have it.

She gets tired and cranky but also will just laugh right out loud for no apparent reason.

She doesn't care what anyone thinks, announcing to a man as we passed by his table in a restaurant, "We are going to the potty." He laughed, and then I laughed.

She hugs and pays attention to nearly any relative who will play with her, not minding that the rest of us might not like that particular relative. She makes purple play-doh pizza with blue spaghetti on top. She tells people where she wants them to sit, asks what they are doing, invites them to take off their shoes and coats.

She sings. She dances. She giggles and squeals with excitement when her mommy lets her "drive" the car through the neighborhood. Never mind that she's only steering the wheel down the street to the house, and honking the horn. She wants to try on all her new clothes right now. She wants to climb the bookshelf to get the eggs hidden on the top shelf.

Every single thing is full of promise, joy and excitement. Every thing is an adventure. Every food is meant to be tasted, even if it means pulling fruit out of the dessert bowl.

I want to be just like Isabella when I grow up. And fall asleep at the end of the day, tuckered out, in my big girl bed.

Good things have been coming my way. Granted, they've been mixed in along some not so good, but for now I am focusing on the good.

Having my sisters and niece come for a last minute visit, complete with movies, pedicures, late night runs for french fries, trips to the museum, driving around with the windows down, sleeping with stuffed animals, playing with play-doh and barbies, drinking out of nearly every cup I have, going to two of my favorite restaurants, running around and giggling, helping us cook dinner and making sure I don't fall off the step stool.

I recently was able to travel to Canada to see my beau. Though airline travel is fraught with delay, I had a wonderful relaxing time there as well. This trip involved: not having to drive for 10 days, sleeping until I woke up, having a cat sleep on my feet, reading a book from start to finish, knitting, eating and drinking whatever I wanted, taking a bath in a sunken tub (built for two) with jets, learning to make pasta and sauce with my beau, drinking wine, eating fish and chips, eating all kinds of foods I don't normally eat, laughing, spending time just thinking and not worrying so much about what anyone thinks or how what I'm saying will come out.

Though this year so far has been a bit of a struggle for me, I'm doing my best to find how much I do have in my life. It's not an easy task, but when things make themselves known to me, I find it hard to stay in the darkness.

Come on, Spring!

I wanted to think of something moving and wonderful to say. I have attended two funerals so far this year. My best friend's dog died as well. I have been feeling sad but not depressed. Not much motivation to speak of, either. However, a trip has been plotted to visit the beau. It's fast, it's flying, and I'm going.

I don't mind flying, it's all that other airport/luggage/screening/taking off shoes stuff that I get frustrated at. And worry about missing planes, being late, all that stuff.

The thing I must keep in mind, though, is that my last trip there encompassed any one traveling cliche' I can think up. I've done it. I've dealt with waiting on the plane in line to take off, ice storm, snow storm, him not being there to meet me, having to find the bus to take and wait for it in the right place, finding food, going to the bathroom and down the escalator once it stopped with all of my luggage. The new upper body workout ought to be lugging two wheelie suitcases in a colder climate in winter. Happy Holidays.

I can make it through. I can get to that hotel and put on my gym shoes and work out. I miss him. I need some happy smiles right now.

I walked through the yard and garden section last weekend at the big giant box store, inhaling Miracle Grow. I can't wait for spring!!

My group of college friends and I turn a specific number birthday this year. I usually send silly cards or slightly obnoxious ones. I am refraining from that this year in the hopes that I won't get any of those cards (or a black balloon arrangement sent to work) back in return.

Plus, I am not the FIRST one in the group to have a birthday, thank goodness. As long as someone else goes first, I think I am okay with this.

Who am I kidding, I'm not okay with it, but what is the alternative?

I wanted to post a picture of the lovely flowers I got for Valentine's Day. My beau sent them to me. Lovely red roses, red carnations, white flowers with small blooms smelling of cloves, and pinkish purplish star lilies. They arrived on Wednesday in a purple vase. They are beautiful and full of variety and texture just like I would choose for myself.

I'm not one to believe Valentine's day requires grand gestures or expensive gifts. I'm perfectly happy with a card. For years I've sent cards to my dear friends and family. I've always thought that love should encircle more than just the romantic aspects of one's world. Love, after all, comes in many forms. It has been the steadfast love of friends and family that have seen me through all my ups and downs.

People have come and gone from my life, but I am and have been blessed to share time with some wonderful people.

I won't be one of those women who say "oh, flowers just die, and they are too expensive." While those things are true, I love them just the same. I love that he loves me enough to show the world. I love that everyone came over to my desk to see and smell them. I love the bit of brightness in the dull of winter. I suppose I just love love.

Somewhere along my way, I'd come to the conclusion that astronauts were smart people. They had to pass a bunch of types of tests to get there. They had to be in excellent physical and mental shape to withstand what they would put their bodies through.

I like to stick to the "rooting for my fellow women" club as well. When a woman does something noteworthy or awesome, I like to support her, talk about her, make others take note.

I suppose, as I try to understand why love (or obsession) makes people do stupid things. Like drive from Texas to Florida wearing adult diapers so she doesn't have to stop until she reaches her target. Or like cutting parachute cords.

I know I am not likely above slipping into one of these frames of mind. I like to think I am sensible and not prone to violence. I try not to judge, but to understand. There but for the grace of God, go I.

I just don't get it though. Driving all that way to potentially hurt or scare someone that you think may be involved with a man you are or want to be involved with, while you have a husband and children of your own at home.
Why do you want more than that?

I have to have a giggle to myself about one of the morning news programs broadcasting live from Miami, for the superbowl, and who is the featured performer of the morning? The Indigo Girls! My very favorite, is it a mistake? A joke? Or are the womenfolk slyly putting one over on everyone? As they sang from their new album about pendulum swinging, the cameras passed a rather confused, sports apparel-wearing crowd and some cheerleaders. Amy and Emily singing away as they do, passing along their messages to anyone and everyone. They didn't seem fazed in the least. I love them. I love that they are still making music, passing on their messages of political activism, acceptance, love and freedom. I love that the dopey overfed folks looked a little confused. I loved that the young cheerleaders were clapping along.

Maybe they were all listening.

I always have amazing brainy ideas of things to write at like 10:00 at night or just as I'm falling asleep or in the midst of my afternoon commute. Then I sit down to write something, and poof, it's gone.

I'm fascinated by AM radio. I like the financial advice programs, the regular kind of advice programs (when I could find them) the call in types of things that deal with bad customer service or any type of product or issue. I even found one once that dealt with all kinds of alien sightings and contacts. I generally stay away from the overtly religious ones, but can stomach some of that if the advice is good and sound. I don't like people getting attacked or belittled. Enough of that happens in real life, heck enough of it happened to that person already, which is likely part of why they are calling in! I used to listen to a powerline program in high school. I think it was for teens, and then of course there was Dr. Ruth while in college.

Do I better myself or learn from the questions and problems of others? I think so. I salute the brave ones who reveal their short-sightedness or ignorance and share it with the world so perhaps one more person won't make that same mistake.

We've all paid the stupid tax. It's human. Sharing it is what reminds us of that common bond we are all in search of. It's usually there, we just overlook it.

I seem to whine and prattle about really unimportant things while people all around struggle with just getting through the day. It's true, some sorrow has befallen my family and that of a co-worker of mine.

All I can think of to make a parable is how we all survive the winter. Or how the trees do. We hunker down, wear our warmest coats, grumble about scraping off the car, eat more, sleep more, try to exercise more, and look toward the smallest light. The days are getting longer. Only by a minute, but longer they are! Valentines abound. Seed catalogs help us plan for spring, or at least dream of it.

Our metabolism slows. We were meant to hibernate a bit. To slow down and rest. Electric lights have tricked us in ways that aren't always productive. Now we feel we need "dawn synthesizing lamps" to combat our Seasonal Affective Disorder. Maybe we need to embrace our inner bear a bit more.

Slowing down and taking time out is good. Being slow and warm is good. Maybe being more like a bear can help us bear what we need to.

I really enjoy the convenience and ease of wearing contact lenses.

Thing is, when something goes wonky, it feels like I'm getting stabbed in the eye. A zillion times. Over and over again.

I hate the expense of going in to the eye doc all over again when my chance to order more lenses has run out, too.

I only have two pair left.

What's it going to be, buttercup?

Someone's getting married! Ok, I knew she was getting married, but now it's to the planning stage.

I'm an organized person, and I enjoy helping people make lists and tackle tasks. I like finding things, and hunting for things online. I like brainstorming and coming up with ideas.

I do not, however, like wearing fancy dresses nor being the center of attention.

Better you than me, my friend!

Relationships, all relationships are hard. If you want them to flourish, they have to be treated like a growing thing. But families are even more challenging. Not to say that they aren't worth it, but everyone is moving in all divergent directions at once. There can be obstacles and weeds and bugs. One has to cut back the undergrowth to stumble along the rocky path. Sometimes, they fall apart, not seeming to want to be together, or not able to grow under the same conditions. Other times, they are a blessing of harmony, and one isn't quite sure how it happened. One must just catch the moment that surrounds and rest in that moment, being grateful for it and the ability to notice it. To suspend within it. Then it can be gone just as quickly. But I'm certain another one will come along.