A discovery and a confession

I am a childish, selfish person sometimes.

Well, a lot of the time, if I'm being honest.

On my weight loss/health blog, I talked about making lists for myself. Chore charts, goals, the whole shebang. (as I'm writing here, I'm also realizing that I have quite the post for there brewing, too... watch out, Blogger, Stuart's got duty, and Amber's on a writing binge!) Excellent intentions, realistic goals, yet this morning I woke to a filthy kitchen, and I'm not dressed and it's 1:00 pm.

The not being dressed thing is fine. It's Saturday. The dirty kitchen? Ew. Starts the whole day off on the wrong foot. Want to know WHY my kitchen was dirty? My husband was home yesterday. I wish that fact implied that I was too busy in the throes of passion to even consider loading the dishwasher and wiping the cabinets.

The interesting fact is that it is 1:00 pm and the kitchen is clean, laundry is going, Logan's had a bath. Oh, and my darling husband is at work. What's the difference?

Well, while my knight in shining armor sat in the man cave yesterday, perusing Craigslist, wishing that he could afford a motorcycle or 1978 Camaro to fix up, I sat on my butt. I knew chores needed to be done, but I'll be damned if I'm going to get up and do something while HE sits and relaxes.

Real grown up, right?

So today, I get to make up for it. Ugh. Sometimes I really am amazed at my childishness.

For Amber and Katie

Me too.

We evacuated to Alexandria last time, and whateverthatonewas came right toward us! I told the man that I wasn't evacuating again. He told me oh yes, I was. This should be fun. Lots and lots of fun.

*big sigh*

To Amber.

Word.

What the heck, dude. It's coming right for both of us.

I could do without this hurricane nonsense. Florida is officially off the table in the future. Not that it was ever *on* the table, but now I'm vindicated in my badmouthing and suffering the bad karma that comes with talking you know what.

I'm not touching you

You know that sibling backseat of the car annoyance?  The finger pointed directly at you, spiraling mere fractions of an inch from your skin/book/jacket?  My insides feel like a big ol' "I'm not touching you" victim.

Hurricane - go away.  Don't come back.  You're not welcome here.  Ever.

Headache - see above.  I cannot function as a mom, much less human when I cannot bear light, sound, or quick movements.

Ah, and here's a little known fact:

A night off does not actually constitute a night "off" when I return to every dish in the house filthy and cluttering the counters and sink.  Especially when the next day is duty day.

I need a big ol' ray of good somewhere.  Where's my curly red-haired wig and shaggy dog when I need 'em?

Swear needs an update.

A small one, at least.

Here's my beef for the day. I'm a west-coaster. I don't enjoy hurricane season looming over my head. I think Ed Hardy shirts are tacky,and I'm not too jazzed about having to come within 3 feet of some people to determine whether or not they are homeless. I'm spending 3 times as much as is normal on groceries, and I am so far from home it's not even funny.

The upside:

I've been planted here, and so I bloom accordingly.
I'm in touch with the Kumu Hula starting the new keiki halau, because I WILL be back in Honolulu in the next few years.
I'm tough as all get out.

My husband wants to retire to San Sebastian. I guess he'll cook and I'll teach English. Can we pass as Basque?

Never gets easier.

Yes, believe it or not, never does get easier with time. I'm considering curling into a ball and crying, but I'm not going to.

Dropped the man off at the airport at 5 am this morning. Now it's just me and the dog at the house, I think we'll throw a wild party. Right. Anyway, walking in, I saw this young girl, maybe 13 dressed in plaid pants and a faux fur leopard print coat. My muddled mind immediately came up with "They're making punk kids younger and younger these days." Then, "What on earth is she doing in a coat in the Gulf of Mexico in August?" Granted, the sun hadn't come up yet, but it was still in the high 70's. Maybe she was going to someplace colder. Or maybe she was actually in pajamas and a bathrobe and I just thought she was in street clothes. 5 in the morning does strange things to you.

I always get lost on the way to and from the airport. Not really lost, mind you, but sort of dreamily, trancelike lost. I know where I'm going, but nothing looks familiar. Sometimes, when I'm on one of the less-frequented roads around here, out where things are a little deserted, I feel like I'm back in Kodiak. Something about the solitude. Yes, I hated the solitude in Kodiak, but that was because it was constant. A little solitude goes a long way. But since I started my day that way, and even though I've napped since then, I still feel a little dreamy and lost.

I wandered around the mall for awhile today, trying to shake the solitude, but even in a crowded place it found me. But I do have 3 new books to show for it: "Smoke and Mirrors," by Neil Gaiman (my absolute favorite author EVAR), "Naked Lunch," by William S. Burriughs (figured it was about time to pick that one up and give it a thorough read), and "Atlas Shrugged," by Ayn Rand. No, I've never read "Atlas Shrugged." 'Bout time for that one, too. First, I have to decide if I want to finish GOF (Harry Potter freak that I am). I'm right in the middle, and even though I've read it a million times I hate to stop right in the middle. But I'm itching for the Gaiman, too. Hmmmmm, decisions, decisions...

Issues? Who has those?

Something about standing naked in the cold rain is cleansing. Don't worry, we have a privacy fence and it was about 3 in the morning.

We had a hurricane scare earlier this week, school closed on Tuesday so I got drunk Monday night. I keep telling myself that the answers to my problems do not float inside a bottle of Southern Comfort, so I went out and tried some absinthe instead. Tastes like bathwater, but I like it. Not enough to pay for a glass all the time, but worth it once. By the way, answers are not found in a glass of that, either. Better to just drink the bathwater, if you're looking for answers.

Just so we all get this straight, I am not an alcoholic. But my therapist is out until next Friday and sometimes I imbibe a bit to relieve stress. You're all just lucky to not have survived a bout of my drunken typing here at the blog. It can be highly entertaing sometimes, or just plain pitiful.

Anyway, where was I? Oh, hurricanes and cleansing. Hmmmm....Totally lost my train of thought. I guess I just wanted to encoourage everyone to go strip down and stand in the rain at 3 am. Privacy fences are good thing to have handy. And a towel. And a fire in the fire pit, too.

Go try. Let me know how it goes.