Zandy

When he was about twelve or thirteen years old, my brother started playing the guitar.  I remember so clearly listening to him on my dad's Gibson Firebird electric six-string strumming out "On Top of old Smokey".  This was the first song he learned, if memory serves.

My dad taught him the basics and then Zandy took off.  He would spend hours and hours in his room every day playing the guitar.  By the time he was 15 or 16, he was really good.  One of my favorite things to do was to knock on his door, sit on his floor and watch him play.  I did it a lot and I loved it.  I don't really remember talking to him much during this time, just listening and occasionally singing along with something.

I brought my guitar (that I'm not very good at... YET!) over to my parents house when he and his family were here for New Year's a couple weeks ago.  He picked it up and tuned it and, in spite of not playing this song for a long time, whipped out a little Auld Lang Syne to ring in the New Year.   

He's pretty amazing.  You can imagine, with just a bit of practice, he plays this flawlessly and it's still one of my favorite things to sit and listen to him playing the guitar.

♥ Love you, Z.  

Regarding Rice

There are two types of people in this world.  Those who can cook rice, and those who can't.

I don't understand why this is so, but it is.

I sit in the camp of those who can. I make it in a pot on the stove.  I have a friend who can make rice, but cannot fathom the idea of making it in a pot on the stove.  She once asked me how it was possible to cook rice without a rice cooker.

I don't get it.

My darling Dustin is of the other camp.  The non-rice cookers.

Tonight he inadvertently made rice soup.  I blew my top* and got irrationally, insanely, and ridiculously upset about the incident.  I sloshed the rice-soup out of the pot onto the stove and splashed it up onto the wall because I was stirring it with a mad fury that was indescribable.  I felt like a volcano with no control over my emotions.  A part of my brain was still rational. Every time Mr. Rational tried to pipe up and talk it out with Psychosis, Psychosis would turn into that Venom thing on Spiderman 3 and annihilate the genteel Mr. Rational who was just trying to smooth things over.

image source

I did actually get calmed down after the rice debacle and even had some drop-in house guests with whom I sat and visited congenially with for quite a few minutes.

But just a short half hour later, Psychosis was back at it and I found myself jumping up and down like a three year old, followed by a slammed door and an ear-piercing scream that left my throat hurting for the next several hours.

So, yeah.  Not really my best day today.

But, I can cook rice.


*CSI was called in and they dusted for prints.  PMS was reportedly on the scene tonight and had a hand in said events.  

Rusty

This is the third post I've tried to start today and each potential post had a different topic. 

I'm rusty. 

I'm not used to molding these thoughts of mine into words anymore, and, to be frank, it pisses me off.  Can't I just be that writer-girl again?  Why does telling you a story about the magical moment I had today watching my twelve-year-old son be enamored and charmed by my sleeping almost three-year-old daughter feel like I'm wrestling a mountain goat?

It was this beautiful moment.  I had these thoughts, watching him, about the wonder and mystery of seeing your child for the first time.  

I could see, as I so often do, the man that this boy will become. But this time, I saw not only his physical appearance, but also the fierce qualities that he possesses tamed and tempered by some tiny human that will come into his life and change it forever.  I saw him as a daddy as he, smiling to himself, watched the prostrate and snoozing Brynja.

He stroked her face with his finger and he'd laugh to himself as she shook off his attentions while remaining asleep.  He must have shifted her into some other phase of her sleep cycle because she started stirring and he tilted his head in admiration as she reached around blindly trying to find her binky.  At this point I shooed him away because I was not ready for her to wake yet.  He moved back a yard or so and watched her with a moony-eyed look on his face as she fell back into a deeper place of sleep. 

It was so darling, and I felt like I caught a glimpse of his future.  I seem to be doing that a lot lately as I watch him moving through this world, living these brief moments of his life.  It catches me off guard and I stand in wonder of who this man-child is at a soul level and who he is becoming. 

He is beautiful, this boy of mine. 

Mac with his new cousin, July 4, 2012.

Mac, Nov. 2, 2012

And... I did it.  I wrote about my moment. 

Maybe I just had to get pissed off enough to pull down some of those walls.

2012, In Review

So far, in our blogging DUEL, I think Lynsey is winning.  I had the first slash, but she parried with an awesomely long and awesomely awesome post about her year in review. 

I'm going to pretend I know stuff about DUELing and say that I'm now going to use the mirror technique.  (Does that sound official)  But my mirror will be hazy.  She was much more eloquent and verbose in her review.  Mine will be short and picture-free.  Sorry.  Beyond my capacity at this moment. (Short and short... that's kinda like Lynsey.  I heard she's four-foot somethin'.)

Here goes....





Dear 2012,

I liked you. 

Here are the highlights: 

In January, I had a dinner party AT MY HOUSE for 12 people.  This is a big deal if you know about my issues with people coming into my physical space.  It scares me.  But I did it and felt very successful and happy with the way it all went.  And I made Beef Barely soup, which is my favorite.  AND Homemade Chicken Noodle Soup, which was everyone else's favorite. 

On this same day in January, I was a goober and ran my battery dead in my car and discovered this about 25 minutes before I was supposed to get my kids from the bus stop.  I put the jumper cables on the other car (van), started it and hooked it up (but not until I managed to turn my car around in my driveway... no small feat) and then went inside to let it charge for the next 20 minutes while I made soup for the party. 

When I got out to un-jumper the cars, I tried the dead car first and discovered that it did not charge after all.  I was annoyed but was just going to drive my van and wait to jump the other car.  I got in my van and discovered, to my horror, that the van was dead too.  I didn't know why at the time, but it turned out that the alternator decided to die right then and so it ended up just sucking the battery all the way down.

I was supposed to get my kids in 5 minutes.  I cried.  I cursed.  My friends saved the day.  The End.

February brought the loss of my beautiful maternal grandmother.  I already wrote once-upon-a-time about the wild adventures of driving to Texas with my dad to attend her funeral and to be with my beloved family.  If you recall, there was another alternator escapade on the drive home.  Not my favorite part of the trip.

Miss you, Grandma. 

In March, Dustin and I went to Provo, UT for a week-long karate course.  We were instructed on kicking for days on end and, if you can imagine, this makes one's legs rather sore.  The instructor was a man by the name of Mark Hallum from the United Kingdom.  It was a good week. 

This month also brought us a celebration in the form of Miss Brynja's 2nd birthday.  I got her a toy that she's played with 2.5 times in the past year.  It was a good investment. 

But seriously, Brynja is the delight of the household.  She's affectionate and darling and she's doted upon by all members of the family.  It's hard to fathom my reluctance to bring her into this world.  But I didn't know her then, so I'll forgive myself that.

March also brought the tenancy-termination of the Tenants From Hell.  And there was much rejoicing.  Until I told them that there was no way they were getting their deposit back because of the disasterous state they left the apartment.  There was much weeping (on my part because of their nastiness), wailing (on their part... biggest whiners EVER) and gnashing of teeth (on both our parts, I would imagine).  We then spent the next several weeks cleaning and repairing their damages.  Many books were listened to through the magic of audiobook-online-checkout from my local libray. ♥

April found me driving cross-country, or more accurately, across two state lines with one of my best friends, Maria, and an almost-perfect stranger named Alex (female) to see the amazing Gotye in concert in Denver, CO.  We stayed overnight at my aunt's house and ate gluten-free amazingness cooked by said aunt.  The concert was mind-blowing and we returned home the next day, making the total trip time 39 hours, 24 of which were spent in the car.  A good time was had by all.

This was also the month that I got my apartment re-rented and my sister's house (that I've been managing for the past two years) was vacated by the best tenant in rental history.  Or close too it, anyway.

April also brought my brother and his wife their first baby... cutest little squirt EVER!  (almost as cute as my kids...) This was an exciting event and my bro. and his wife are still recovering their equilibrium.  ;-)  Adventures in Parenthood!

May is always a welcome month.  We celebrated the birth of two of our adorable offspring, Rohan (7) and Ella, (10) and I am ashamed to say that I can't recall what we did nor the gifts we gave them.  Oh, wait.... it's coming.  A watch for Ella.  No friend party this year... nor for Rohan.  Rohan's gift... was... .....        ...........................   ...................................................  nope.  I got nothin'.  Sorry Rohboy.

I spent a lot of May showing my sister's house and seeking after tenants of excellence.  They were found. 

May also brought the conclusion of school, which is always a thrill.

I got sick this month and when I was coughing very hard, I threw out my back and became next-to-useless for about three weeks.  It really sucked.

I almost forgot.  In May, I was privileged to attend the wedding of my incredible aunt Devan in Houston, TX.  This time we sucked it up and flew there.  It was much more... palatable.. than driving for 28 hours..  The wedding was amazing... on a bay in the Gulf of Mexico.  Great company, beautiful bride, delish food.   Awesomeness.

In June, we had ANOTHER tenant move out and had to spend some time fixing things and redoing things on the other side of the duplex.  It was good. 

Other than that, I have no idea.  I  didn't write stuff down for the month of June and apparently did not do anything that impacted my memory-brain-cells significantly.

In July, we traveled to Salt Lake City to my cousin, Britney's, wedding reception.  Also, Mac had a week of Ballroom Dance Camp and  week of Scout Camp.  I'm also showing a dentist appt. on my calendar.  Isn't that a thrill?!  (no cavities!)

Our darling eldest child, Mac, turned 12(!) in the lovely month of July.  He's growing so tall (taller than me as of November!) it's freaking me right out.  He's got shadows above the corners of his upper lip.  Shadows, as in darkening, lengthening hair... as in WHISKERS.  How am I this old?  I don't understand.

August is my birthday month and I planned my own party this year.  A party for two.  My friend Maria and I went to Salt Lake City to see the musical Wicked.  I've wanted to see this forever so I was so thrilled to go.  It was a great weekend of shopping, musicals and Parading through Homes.

August also found Mac at another dance camp.  All of my children went camping to Yellowstone National Park with my in-laws.  This left Dustin, Brynja and I together for a couple days in the Bear Lake area where Dustin was working out of town.  We hiked and waded in sand on the beaches of Bear Lake.  Dreamy.

On August 7th, I wrote down the following Rohanism on the calendar. It would appear that we were having a conversation about my Grandma Carol because Rohan said, "Ella... Gramma Carol is with Christ and all those other dead people."  I ♥ Roh. 

And August was the end of piano lessons for Ella and Rohan because their adorable teacher got married and moved to Utah.  Ella was brokenhearted.  Rohan, not so much.  We have yet to find a new teacher.  Any locals know one?

SEPTEMBER.  That's all capsy-boldy because September was a big deal in my life.

September was, first of all, the month my son shed his elementary school skin and officially became a Jr. High Schooler.  That was exciting.  I can't believe how big and grown-up he is looking.  It seems like, when you're in the midst of the day to day raising of your children, this day will never come.  Your child will never become a man, grow whiskers, broaden shoulders, or bass-up his voice.  Well, I realize I'm not quite there on all counts, but I'm watching it happen before my eyes.  It's like he changes daily.  It's marvelous and frightening all at the same time.  He's a great kid.

Ella started 5th grade at the third school of her career (and no, we've never moved in the school years, I just have school A.D.D.  Mac is on his 5th school...) and Rohan, 2nd grade.  (Rohan has actually never changed schools.  Yet.)  They're all doing great and changing and growing so beautifully.

I got my vacant apartment rented this month too.  Happydance.

For Dustin and I, September marked the biggest adventure of our lives, thus far.  (aside from the whole raising kids thing.)  On the 11th of September we flew over the big blue ocean, Dustin air-sick the whole way, and landed in Vaasa, Finland.  We did karate there for five days, saw some awesome things and got to know some AMAZING people.  Then we flew to Stockholm, Sweden and stayed for three days playing tourist and marveling at the coolness of another culture (and marveling at how expensive food was over there!)

I've talked a little about this trip, but as I've had more time to process, I think traveling to Europe changed me in more ways than I realized.  I'll have to dedicate a post to this subject, but I'll just say that I feel like my capacity and awareness was expanded from this trip.  Amazing.

October was the month of rentals.  Again. And dipping pretzels.  I had ANOTHER tenant move out of my duplex at the very first of this month (the ones who had just moved in the previous April...) and then one more move out from my little house at the end of this month.  Crapcakes.

We also re-roofed half of the duplex which was a HUGE job and took weeks.  We did it ourselves (of course... we like to do things the hard way.  READ: the cheap way) and it turned out great, but, boyohboy, it was a lot of work.

Halloween was a blur.  I kinda forget what my kids even were.  Oh yes.  Ella-pirate.  Mac-80s punk rocker.  Rohan-Scream ghost thing (NOT the normal kind of costume for me, but it was the dream of his heart for two years and so, I acquiesced and he was SO thrilled), Brynja-Monarch Butterfly Fairy... darling.

November was more pretzel-dipping and a trip to see my sister and her family in the beautiful Coeur D'Alene, Idaho.  My little nephew, William, got baptized and the kids, my parents and I drove up to witness and celebrate.  It was a lovely, if quick, trip and I miss my Wheeler's like crazy.  We got a bonus on the trip and got to see my friend Rachel and her family too!  They drove down from Sandpoint, ID where they've lived for the last 18 months(?) and we had a great time visiting, walking down misty lake shore paths, acting like 6 year olds on playground equipment and eating great pizza with 73 children talking loudly around us.

Of course, November was also Thanksgiving and a touch of Black Friday shopping for me, as well as a release from my 7.5 year position as Choir Director at church.  Wow.

December was probably the most relaxed December I've had in years.  I've always, for the last many years, had the choir Christmas program to do and this year, I didn't.  It was also a slower pretzel year.  And a slower Clancy year.  I let go of many things that I used to think were important.  It was more low-key... still busy, but not a "KILL ME NOW" kind of busy.   ♥


So, that was not so short as I expected, but still no pics.  Pics just aren't my thing.  But we all know that already, right?  Right.


I'll hit the PUBLISH button now and I say again, Lynsey.... EN GARDE!    (I just learned that we've been spelling this wrong as I looked up fencing terms... doh!)

Dead in the Water

I once read somewhere that you're not supposed to mention your blog on your blog... or something.  It seems like it was C.Jane that said it, but I can't be sure.  That sentiment is always in the back of my head when I post stuff like, "Hi.  I forgot I had a blog." or "Remember me?  I'm Clancy's Blog!" or, "My blog floats like a dead fish in a cold, cold lake in the Black Hills of South Dakota."   Maybe I shouldn't be saying such things?  Bad blogging ettiquette?  Que sera sera.  (On a sidenote, I hear Doris Day's voice every time I hear that phrase.  Only just now did I realize she was speaking Spanish.  Or was she?  Here's what Wikipedia has to say on the matter:

"The popularity of the song has led to curiosity about the origins of the saying and the identity of its language. The answer is not simple. It is a centuries-old saying used mainly by English-speaking people. In linguistic terms, "Que será, será" – in the form in which Livingston and Evans adopted it – is a hybrid expression made by superimposing Spanish words on English syntax (somewhat in the way that "Long time no see" consists of English words superimposed on Chinese syntax)." 

Hmm.  Thanks, Wikipedia!  And thanks for bearing with my through my commuters'-nightmare-train-of-thoughts.)

So, it's late... shocking?  Not really.  What IS shocking is how I'm finding out that in my mid-thirties, it actually IS harder to stay up late and harder to function the next day when I do.  1 a.m. is the new 2 a.m. in my world. Anyway... it's late.  So, I will just tell you the #1 reason I'm writing right now. 

The great Lynsey has challenged me to a blogging duel.  I don't know what this means exactly, but I accepted the challenge because I want to write.  I don't know how to make myself any other way at this point, so here I am.  One of a pair of combatants in a BLOGGING DUEL!

So... ON GUARD, Lynsey!!  

House of Mirrors

Eyes closed, she stumbles from room to room.
Each obstacle meets curled shoulders as
Thoughts crash hard against her.

In moments of courage
She turns her head.
Wide eyes greet only mirrors,
And shades of herself.

She shakes her fist
And cries for the words
That once came so easily.

Yumprint Update and Then Some...

Yumprint?  What's that?

That's my update.


Dinner?  What's that?

Last night I made Mac and Ella a tuna fish sandwich and Rohan and Brynja had grilled cheese.  And they all had apples.

I feel pretty good about that.  Dustin was out of town, so I didn't need to cook for him and I can't remember if I ate anything or not.  I think I had a late lunch (of sorts) and so I must not have been very hungry.  Either that or I have amnesia.

I took my kids to our local Halloween store and we spent over an hour there just walking around looking at stuff and putting masks on.  It was free and they were highly entertained.  They thought I was the coolest mom ever.

And two other points of interest that Facebook knows but my blog does not...

Back in May I went platinum blonde.  And in September I went to Europe.  Here are a few pictures to cover both items:  

Me standing next to a statue of the world's tallest man... Guinness Museum; Copenhagen, Denmark

Swedish Sauna.  It's tiny and that's why my fingers are like that.  (it is an inside joke between us and this Finnish friend of ours named Patrik why that is funny.)  Skansen Open Air Museum; Stockholm, Sweden.

This was an authentic Viking Rune stone, still it's original environment in the forest where it was discovered.  We had to hike to get to it.  It has a picture of a Longboat and the runes written there say something to the effect of, "In memory of the good son."  This is near a small town (can't remember the name...) in Finland about 30 or 40 minutes north of Vaasa.  

On the shore of the Baltic Sea.  That island you can see in the distance was our destination in this picture.  I was waiting for Patrik to pick us up in his boat and we rode to his summer house (cabin) on the island.  The island's name translated to "Thor's Island".  Awesome.

 

Standing on the porch of Patrik's summer home, with the Baltic Sea behind us.  Beautiful.

Stockholm, Sweden.  This city was a surprise around every corner.  This was inside a courtyard surrounded by buildings.  The courtyard was invisible from the street until you come upon this tiny opening in the wall of the building and then, surprise!  This awesome courtyard.  I think it was some kind of hotel behind me.  And to my left (your right) was this little green space like a park.  Grass and trees.  And this was all hidden, tucked away in this courtyard.  It was so cool.  

Perhaps someday I'll post more about our trip.  I'd like to.  It was amazing.  But for now, I'm happy to get this much up.

And see how I'm blonde now?  Yep.  That's been fun too.  

 

You Might Want to Sit Down...

I'm keeping you updated!  It's not a very good update, but I'm just excited that I remembered I have a blog.

Update:

I haven't looked at YumPrint one time since I wrote last.  I might have pinned (can I say pinned?  It's not Pinterest...) a recipe since then, but visited the site?  Nope.

And I think I've cooked dinner a total of 2 times in the last two weeks.  Well, maybe a couple more.  But I have been on the roof of my duplex for those two weeks (well, only in the day).  We're reroofing and it's sucking my will to live.  And cook.

So, I'll try to update you when I actually start having a life again that doesn't involve shingles or a 4/12 pitch.

Thank you for your patience... please continue to hold.

Oh.  And for your viewing pleasure... or not.

PICTURES!    I told you you might want to sit down.  I'm trying to be picture-girl.

If you're my friend on FB, you've probably seen these.  But there are some who are not on Facebook.  I know of two for sure.  ;-)

Boom truck with rooftop shingle delivery.  Best $65 I've ever spent.   

Dustin and I after one of the days of the tear-off.  This roof had 5 layers, the first one being old, original 1920 hot-mop tar stuff.  It was a really fun and exciting job.  Don't we look excited?  Yeah.  Not really.  

Yumprint?

My awesome friend, Rachel, posted about this new social networking site called Yumprint.  It's for recipes and Rachel's excited.  So, I for sure got on the site and signed up.  Are you kidding?  Something that helps with the dinner hour?  We all know I have dinner issues.

So, as I was looking around on the site and trying to figure out how it worked, I started to feel panicky.  I've not tried Yumprint, but have tried all kinds of books and emails and calendars to try to help me figure out dinner.

One book, in particular, I loved because it had 5 (or 6? I forget) days worth of recipes with a shopping list prepared for the whole week.  I did it for about a month and thought it was awesome, and I discovered, much to my surprise, that I really like cooking WHEN I don't have to think about WHAT to cook and I know I have all the ingredients already in the house.  I loved trying new recipes, which this forced me to do every night.  I really loved the whole process, except for going to the store.  My excuse for falling off that month-long wagon was that it was expensive.  It was perhaps a little more pricey than I would normally cook, but I probably saved money for that month because I spent less time at the store.

As I said, I browsed Yumprint for about 5 minutes seeing if I could figure it out, got panicky and then had an epiphany.  All the things I've ever tried to do to help myself cope with dinner had one thing in common.

ME.  

I'm the common denominator.  And whatever it is inside that makes me resist the planning of the dinner hour is the same thing reason I fear schedules, routines, plans, lists, etc..   And whatever it is is big.  Big and scary.  The panicked feeling that I experienced tells me just how big and how scary it is.

I don't know what I'll be doing about that, but I plan to change it.  Bit by bit.  Day by day.  Meal by meal.  Week by week.

I'd like to say I'll keep you updated...

Anything is possible, right?

My Teeth Are Brushed

(warning... this post is completely random and fairly disturbing... read at your own risk)


I shouldn't start a blog post at 12:30 a.m., but I didn't want another writing miscarriage on my hands.  I've already brushed my teeth and was ready to go to bed, but as I brushed, I was reading a remarkable book called The Dance by Oriah and I had some thoughts.

Let me tell you, as I was reading this book, I felt like I was reading something I wrote.  Not that the subject matter was my life, but the writing style was much like my own.  It made me feel like I was mourning my own death because I never write anymore.  And then I thought about the crazy dream I had last night... the dream that Dustin had to wake me up from because I was crying in my sleep.

So, I'm writing.  Even if it sucks and doesn't make any sense.

This is Clancy taking action.  Nonsensical action, perhaps, but action nonetheless.

In this book that I was just reading Oriah says this;

"The question is not why are we so infrequently the people we really want to be.  The question is why do we so infrequently want to be the people we really are."

This struck me in inexplicable ways.

And, though it makes no sense whatsoever with any of the context of this post, nor the title, I keep thinking of that dream and so, even though it's fairly freaky, I'm going to write about it:


I came into my basement family room where my children had erected a blanket fort.  The fort was covered in blood and inside it I found a little girl who had been stabbed.   In my house.   WHAT?!!!  

She was a beautiful little black girl and I thought she was dead.  I was freaking out and started screaming for someone to call an ambulance.  When I got closer to her, I could see that she was still alive.  She wasn't doing well though and as I examined her, I found a stab wound just below her sternum.  

This child was a stranger to me.  I didn't know who she was or how she got in my house, much less who stabbed her.    

I picked up the child, who was about 7 years old, to carry her upstairs and, in the way of dreams and how they seamlessly change in nonsensical ways, the child was suddenly a baby who was perhaps 6 months old.  I think the baby was a girl.  The baby had no clothes on, but had a white blanket wrapped around her and the wound (in the same place as the little child) was swollen and angry looking.  The baby was very lethargic.  

I saw an ambulance (of sorts... you know how dreams are) pull up in front of my house and as I ran frantically to answer the door with the babe in my arms, two stern faced and steely haired older women came in.  They invited themselves to sit on my couch and proceeded to ask me a bunch of questions that I can't remember now.  I only remember that I wanted to scream at them that I had a dying baby in my arms and that they were supposed to be helping her, not asking me a bunch of questions that didn't matter AT ALL!!!  

I was enormously frustrated and frantic.  These two women didn't even pause to look at the baby as they finished their questions and brusquely left my house as quickly as they entered it.  

There was someone else in my house with me who had called 911.  This person was not present during the steel twins' inquisition, but reappeared as they left.  I was frantic again.  As I realized the ambulance and the 'help' it was supposed to bring was leaving, I decided I had to take the baby to the hospital myself.

I don't know who this person was that was with me, but it was someone I trusted and I was somewhat comforted by their presence.  I remember feeling grateful that I wasn't alone.  

I struggled to put the baby in a car seat.  Then, I struggled to put the car seat in my car.  As I was trying to do this, I realized the baby wasn't in the car seat anymore.  I panicked!  I thought she must have fallen out when I was messing with the car seat trying to get it in the car.  I looked around screaming, "Where's the baby!" and the other person pointed to the white blanket that the baby had been wrapped in.  It was sort of under the car seat.  

As I grabbed the blanket and felt the baby inside it, I realized that the baby was very hard.  I pulled the blanket out with the baby inside it and uncovered it's face and what I held in my arms was now a hard plastic doll, all shiny and frozen in a fairly creepy way.  

The baby had died.  

In my dream I howled with grief and frustration.  I was crying and screaming and beating the car with my fists.  I was so angry at the women who came and asked me questions.  I was so angry at myself for letting them ask.  I was so angry that I didn't even know who this baby was and why it was in my house or who had stabbed it so cruelly.  As I screamed, the person who was with me (who was a woman, by the way) was trying to calm me down.  

And then, I woke up to my own sobbing and howling and Dustin touching me and telling me that everything was ok, and that it was just a dream.

It was so disturbing and frightening.  Like a horror movie.

Don't ask me why I kept feeling like I was supposed to write this out, but I obeyed.

Sorry for you.       

And, as I'm proofing this post, I can't help but notice the relationship between my last post about metaphorical miscarriages, the baby in my dream and the fact that reading this woman Oriah's writing made me feel like I was mourning my own death.

Maybe I'm the baby.  Maybe I'm also the stupid ladies asking all the wrong questions and just causing problems.  Maybe I'm everyone in my dream and it's like many aspects of myself who all seem to be in conflict with one another.

That actually makes a great deal of sense, considering my life lately.

Interesting.

And again, I'm sorry for you, the reader this insanely bizarre post.

Good night.