and Henry, you danced like a wooden Indian

Ever had a Thursday where you are so happy that the next day is Friday, then Friday comes and it's so incredibly busy but you think "at least it's Friday."

Then Saturday arrived and I was happy b/c I had a 90 minute massage at 11 and there were no words to describe just how badly I needed a good massage (in my case, I think I could've handled a jackhammer, but I settled for a human-generated deep tissue session).

So, it was Saturday--feeling great--sunny day.

But then I felt like I should  go into work for "just a few minutes," just to make sure some arrangements were all in place. And I ended up being at work until almost 5 but allowed myself to foolishly hope that everything was under control and consoled my wasted day with, "at least I still have Sunday." Then Sunday morning came....and at 6:50am I heard my cell phone ringing in my purse that's hanging from a door knob in the dining room.....and I knew it was work....and I knew I should let it go....but I got up anyway....and the number was my general work number....but I knew who was probably calling....and I knew I could just go back to bed....but I called them back anyway.

That's when I realized that my week had officially continued on from Friday....at 6:50am this morning. When I tried to go back to bed my brain was in overdrive brainstorming about solutions for their problem, so I called back with a few more suggestions. Rob and I got up at 7:30 b/c I was completely awake. It's our 2 year anniversary (and 1 month engagement anniversary) so we decided to go to breakfast. I purposefully left both phones at home and we rode our bikes to Mallery Street Cafe. We decided over breakfast that today we would get a Christmas tree. The day was improving.

Home, there were two messages on my work cell. I didn't even listen to them b/c I knew who was calling and could guess what they were saying/pleading--frantic contract-nurse at work who was trying to deal with a complete and total lunatic of a 59 year old woman who thinks the entire world should bow to her every demand a few seconds before shes even thought about them...and if you think you've met someone like this (because until today, I really did think I knew one or two, or had at least seen versions of such a specimen on TV/Film) you should meet Mrs J and she will blow your mind. I don't even care about the slight HIPPA violation with that first initial drop there. That's how much I don't care about this psychotic paranoid schizophrenic histrionic manic depressive woman who somehow during the week apparently operates normally in her affluent golfing community. Of course now we all know that her "normal" is waaaaaaay beyond what any of us would describe it as...even within the excessively broad parameters of an already ambiguous descriptive.

And I am doing the best that I can

Midway through phone conversations with the nurse, I text my boss. She and I go back and forth for a few minutes and then the nurse calls back with the latest report (the reports were about 15mins apart...and by report I mean the next completely insane demand that had spurted out of crazy ladys oral cavity that even a registered nurse couldn't figure out). My last text to my boss was "my goal is to get her to discharge home before she consumes my entire weekend...she had a knee replacement by a renowned MD, not a bionic brain transplant by an intern." The next call from the nurse was that Crazyfool wanted to talk to my boss. HAHAHAHA.  Now THAT was when I started smiling.  Oh yes, gladly. So I called my boss and asked her to call the unit. And my phone as been silent ever since. Ahhhh.

Well, I tried to tell Crazyfool....but some people don't believe me when I say things. Some people think I'm just saying words to fill space. Some people think I'm just saying things based on my mood at the time. The truth is, when I say it, 99.9% of the time I really and truly mean it. And at some point,  I will stop caring and I will stop trying--and it will feel good when I finally allow that burden to fall easily off my shoulders.

And hopefully along the way that person/situation didn't push me into the zone I rarely enter...the SURZ -- the Spent-Up Rachel Zone....cause that jest ain't no place to find yerself caught up in. Yesterday, I think I might have gotten toe-deep in the SURZ....but I somehow rallied myself back into neutral.  I really don't like going into the SURZ.

So anyway, just to get any other undesirables out of the way, I balanced my bank account--which has really become a more and more humorous concept as I've gotten older and the years speed faster and faster by me.

And now, I am going to find us a nice Christmas tree.

And when Rob gets home from work we're going to open a bottle of champagne. And decorate that tree. And listen to Christmas music. And feel happy. Because guess what....tomorrow is Monday. And life is short.


Except this one mattered and I felt it had a spirit
And I shot the story cause I didn't hear it that way

I WANT A KITTY

Ok....when I was little, teeny tiny wonderful little kittens LITERALLY seemed to just APPEAR on a regular basis. Sometimes we even had to bottle feed them and my parents would grumble and eventually would give them away because we already had TOO MANY animals. So why is it that when I really really really WANT a baby kitten, I have to pay* for one, and it's not even a baby anymore!

I want a free** baby kitten! And when I say baby, I mean, weened off mama cat but maybe not even on hard food yet. THAT kind of baby kitten. The kind that wakes you up every two hours for food and attention. The kind that every once in a while will topple over because their legs are still wobbly and their balance not so great. The kind that can only sleep if they're on your chest because your heartbeat is comforting (ok, big cats do that too, but I'm not talkin about big cats now)--and when they do sleep they still suckle and kick and twitch in their dreams the way only baby kittens do. The kind that still has blue eyes. The kind that their fur is still really super fluffy and downy and you're not even positive if it will stay white and gray or turn black. The kind that.....ok, I can't think of anything else right now.

The point is, I really want a baby kitten.

*The author notes and advises that all pets require--sometimes significant-- monetary expenditures in order to adequately support their health and well-being. The author simply would rather spend "adoption fees" on vaccines, spay.neuter cost, age appropriate  food, litter and all the fun little feathery jingley toys that cats enjoy.

**See above disclaimer

among the dunes

As the end of my second year in the coastal south approaches, I continue to be amazed at the fact that four days before Thanksgiving I can pull on a bathing suit and head to the beach to spend the better part of my day there. That's not to say that it doesn't get chilly here, and it's certainly not to say that Rob and I don't sincerely miss the crisp air and painted landscape of fall in South Carolina or West Virginia. But as long as I'm here, I intend to appreciate the particulars of island living.

Walking along the beach path from 11th street to East Beach there is a certain point where shoes of any kind become an obstruction to effective forward movement, so I kicked off my flip flops and plodded the rest of the way to my usual camp site-- umbrella, chair and beach bag in tow. The beach looked different today, and for a second I actually had to take a good look around to assure myself I was indeed in the exact same spot that I have planted myself every time I've come to the beach this summer. And that was a lovely thing to ponder for a while because as soon as I knew I wasn't in a parallel dimension somewhere my inner voice gave me a kindly flick on the forehead for ever having assumed that something like a beach would ever remain the same. But for the record, it had changed quite a bit this time, as if the beach and all the sandbars had been slurried around overnight--they were significantly transformed.

Four and a half hours later I had watched low tide yield to the pull of the moon and high tide was clamboring in. I had finished reading the latest book to grace my imagination and for a while I just sat on my towel staring out at the ocean and wondering what to do next while at the same time being completely content with remaining right where I was with no active plans at all. But out of that strange internal obligation which is most likely a completely socialized thing of our culture, I got up from my towel and bent under my umbrella to put my book away...I suppose in an effort to--as Daddy Wayne puts it--"begin the egress." But as I put the book away I realized my beach chair was in the perfect amount of shade, so I sat down...and pretended to continue the egress while the other 99.9% of my attention was on listening to the sound of the ocean...which led into more thinking. And in my usual nature of taking delight in thinking and pondering and contemplating and realizing--and I will say my psyche rarely disappoints me no matter how big or small the process is--I began considering exactly why it was that I felt so OK with just staying at the beach until the cows came home, and what exactly the "sound of the ocean" is and other things like that. So as I'm sitting in the chair, thinking and guiltily messing around with my beach bag as if I, were I to continue, might actually convince myself to pack up and leave (which didn't really work because as I dug for my phone to check the time I noticed I had two magazines in the bag that I hadn't read yet...well I could read these and THEN go...) it occurred to me that the sound of the ocean was a natural "white noise" and that it, combined with the nearly perfect temperature and breeze, was probably behind the reason why I was so content, or perhaps, entranced...and my inner voice gave me another of those proverbial flicks because then it seemed obvious.

As I was recovering from re-entry to reality I see, out of the corner of my eye, a couple walking past and the guy points at me and I realize I/we know them. It was a couple who Rob and I have met and hung out with at a few parties and hoped we would eventually become friends with.  So they were walking with their baby (who I now call "sweet baby James" as he is wonderful for holding and bouncing and chirruping and laughing with) and they stopped to talk for a few minutes. They were at a birthday party/oyster roast we went to last night and all of us had stayed out till the wee morning talking and laughing and having our hair and clothes and skin soaked with the smell of burning cedar wood and roasted shellfish and the low-country air of live oaks and moss and salt.

Anyway their visit broke the spell that had kept me at the beach for so long after I'd finished my reading and then I was glad I had been entranced for long enough to see them. Once they were on their way further along the beach I packed up my things and walked myself to the car. At home I warmed up some soup and sat down to write about today. Because it has been a good day. And I am happy.

The most important things are the hardest to say, because words diminish them -Stephen King

We're all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness - and call it love - true love.
-Robert Fulghum

Before It Breaks

Around here, it's the hardest time of year
Waking up, the days are even gone
The collar of my coat, lord help me cannot keep off the cold
The rain drops sting my eyes, I keep them closed

But I'm feeling no pain
I'm a little lonely and my quietest friend,
have I the moonlight? have I let you in?

Say it ain't so say I'm happy again.
Say it's over, say I'm dreaming,
say I'm better than you left me.
Say you're sorry, I can take it.

say you'll wait, say you won't
say you love me, say you don't
I can make my own mistakes
let it bend before it breaks

I'm alright, don't I always seem to be?
Aren't I swinging on the stars? Don't I wear them on my sleeve?
Went looking for a crossroads, it happens every day
and whichever way you turn, I'm going to turn the other way

Say it's over, say I'm dreaming
say I'm better than you left me
Say you're sorry I can take it

say you'll wait, say you wont
Say you love me say you dont
I can make my own mistakes
I learned to let it bend before it breaks

 - Brandi Carlile

hunches, hypothesis and theories

1986--or somewhere around then--I am sitting on the curb of a cobblestone drive waiting for Dad to bring around our big red and white caprice classic to load our luggage into and head home. No one is interested in anything other than the fact that I am out of the way, but I am working on something very important. And suddenly, after many failed attempts and at about the exact same time absolutely no one is around me or looking, I succeed in what I have been determined to do for a few months now. I have officially learned how to tie my shoelaces.

And I have tied them correctly, as in, how my father has been coaching me, "right over left Rachel, right over left" -- a perfect square knot bow in the laces of my knock-off Keds.

This memory sat in my mind for years and years as the memory of, "when I learned the tie my shoes." It is probably the first memory I can access after other important stages in life such as "first learned to talk," and "first learned to walk" --

In August of 2009 I quit my job. I had a mortgage, two dogs, a cat and a car that was in dire need of new tires and a tune up, but I quit my job around 11:30 one morning and drove south through Atlanta to my Newnan bungalow that I wasn't quite sure exactly how I was going to pay for at this point, but I didn't care. It was one of those "I'd rather lose everything than work here one more second" moments.

I started applying for jobs. Some that were similar to what I had been doing, but what I really wanted was a career change. I was so burned out on Social Work and Corporate America that I was ready to lose it all, go back to school and become a Librarian (still not a bad idea...minus the "lose it all" part of course).

Somewhere around the end of September of that year I cashed in all my mutual funds. At that point I was applying for jobs anywhere, everywhere--Georgia, Texas, Louisana, North Carolina, Tennessee, mountains, coast, desert...wherever. I was also drinking way more than I needed to and could have been diagnosed as depressed and self medicating. I had weaned myself off a few medications I had been taking because I knew my health insurance would end as soon as my ex-employer could get their grimy hands on the paperwork (and they did, and it did). I wasn't necessarily miserable, but I was definitely unhappy and getting increasingly worried that I might need to begin consulting the local homeless folks on exactly how to make it through winter on cardboard boxes and the occasional hand out. Yes I knew my family would never let it come to that...but it was a legitimate concern. And I still did not regret in the least my decision than got me there (still don't).

Three major things happened at the end of 2009 that changed my life. I am sure they have all been mentioned before on this blog, but I feel inclined to reminisce...

First, Robert, who'd had his fill of my increased unavailability and "rock star lifestyle" (being superficial bffs with a bar owner helps when you're poor and working diligently at developing a drinking problem) insisted that we take a vacation and he found and booked a pet friendly cabin in Hot Springs (see that story here).

Second, before that trip actually happened, I had a call for a phone interview with a company that I actually wasn't sure which application it matched. There were so many, and I still only vaugely remember filling out an online app at career builder and then thinking nothing more of it (after hundreds of resumes they all blur together). I was in Kroger when they called and I quickly asked if I could call them right back, zoomed home and did a little bit of research on the company (tried desperately, and to know avail, to find the application/resume I had sent them), called the lady back and did my very best at an impromptu interview (which I thought actually went okay but was so down on myself then that I had no expectations). A few days later I was happily contacted by the same company for an live interview that was scheduled for the Monday after our Hot Springs trip.

Mom rode with me to the interview. We had to leave VERY early because it was located at a retirement community on St. Simons Island, which is five hours from my house in Newnan. We had a great trip actually, and though I thought the interview was a bit awkward (the gentleman who would be my "boss" were I offered the position was at least 3 years younger than me and his maturity followed suit) I was uplifted at having actually scored an interview somewhere more appealing than the (very few) other leads.

The third event was that a week later (closing in on Christmas) I was driving to Target and got the call offering me a position and nearly matching my salary from my last job AND offering me 30 days free room and board in the community of Marsh's Edge while I found a place to live since I would be relocating.

I put my house on the market, spent a very Merry Christmas with my family (also the last Christmas we would spend with our wonderful Nana, the great Ruth Oalmann) and just before the end of the year I liquidated my 401K (the last of any "nest egg" I had).

By the end of January I found an apartment I could afford and with the help of my wonderful family and Robert, completed the final stages of officially moving to St. Simon's Island.

Somewhere around April or May (2010), another mysterious thing happened.

My aunt and uncle came to visit and they were staying at the islands landmark hotel The King and Prince. The first night they were in town I met them in the lobby. I parked my car along the curb and as I walked in I had an extremely strong sense of deja vu and couldn't quite place my finger on why.  As we headed out to go to dinner, I suddenly remembered exactly what was firing off in the recesses of my memory. The cobblestone drive, the curb, the landscape.....I had learned to tie my shoes at the King and Prince when I was four. There is scientific meaning behind the "light bulb effect"...whatever synapse was harboring the chemicals of that memory finally exploded across to it's neighboring cells--a bolt of lightening that has made a solid connection from cloud to ground and spread thousands of tendrils of electricity and light into the atmosphere--illuminating the events surrounding that marker in my childhood history. We were on the island for some business thing my parents were looking into (or something like that). Dad had fussed at me that morning for accidentally walking in on him getting dressed in the bathroom and mom was probably busy with Stefan.  I was being the typical kid "getting in the way" and felt as such, so I had very willingly been ushered by my [mom? grandparents?] to the curb where they were making a pile of our luggage. I kept quiet and busied myself with that little thing I had wanted so badly to accomplish for what seemed like years.

2011 It's Sunday morning in late September. I'm sitting on our screened porch with my cat Stella and a cup of coffee that I'm sure by now is cold. And I am considering, as I do often these days, all the forces of nature that brought me here, brought Rob here (where he happily works for SEA) and how the fabric of the universe is so majestically woven.

 A quarter of a century ago I learned to tie my shoes about a mile from where we live now. It is more moving than I can find words to describe, to consider the symbolism in that moment and how the many years between then an now have led me back here, as a shoe lace loops back and forth through the eyes of a sneaker. And having been here for almost two years now,  I feel like I am perhaps on the brink of yet another major marker in my life. I have no idea what it will be. I have hopes and dreams and five year plans. And, for the record, have not changed careers and actually see my possibilities in this field.

But beyond that I have something far deeper that has been growing inside me for as long as I can remember (it has always been there, though there have been times when I have failed to acknowledge it). It is constantly under construction and reinforcement but it's foundation is solid and it is a deep comfort to me.  I have something that is important to the health and well being of everyone, regardless of religion or spirituality. I have Faith.  I have faith that the forces of our unimaginably vast universe are intertwined and laced together in a brilliant, infinite quilt.  And I have faith that no being in that expanse is too small to not be included in the pattern.

I am describing what myself and many people call God, though "God" has a different meaning and relationship that is unique to each of us throughout history. And in that sense this is God's production. There are possibilities everywhere, little projects that, though each may seem more important as we grow older, are just as significant as learning to tie your shoes. 

my labor day delight

This is really nice so I just thought I'd write something stupid about it.
Quiet day at work. Cleaned my office (love being able to see my desk from time to time). Wrapped up a few loose ends. Left at 3. Made a veggie sandwich at home. Pulled on a pair of jeans. Plotted a cheesy dinner for two. Opened the blinds in my bedroom. Sat down on the bed with a ginger ale and the 787 pg Stephen King I just acquired that Rob says I will undoubtedly finish in a day and a half (hah). The sun quietly slipped behind the clouds and now it's thundering.
Thank you dear universe.

Is this what "full of piss and vinegar" feels like?

Today seems to be one of those days that, from the time I got out of bed, every other moment has been so irritating that I find myself fantasizing about ditching it all and heading for some completely unknown region of the world. And (clears throat)  it's just 9:30am

And no, to anyone (any of those random hackers because no one really reads this pathetic blog anymore) who reads that and says "oooh, must be PMS" (another idiotic sexist peeve of mine)...it's not. Sometimes I just get tired of living peacefully in the bureaucratic nightmare that life has become.

The point when I realized that perhaps I should reign in my nearly seething chagrin (just for a moment, mind you) is when I listened to a voice mail from the family member of my favorite resident at work.

Background: as an unofficial part of my job (which today ranked 1st, 3rd and 4th on CNNs ten jobs with high rates of depression) I seem to be the only one here (not the business office, not the billing office, not the administrator and certainly not the office manager) who has ever even attempted to effectively navigate the completely senseless world of INSURANCE (Lord help me here...I feel it bubbling up again). And one kind of insurance is Long Term Care insurance...

[that every relatively healthy 50 year old should consider purchasing now even though healthcare is on a grisly downward spiral and it is reasonable to predict that even if you did invest in an insurance plan they could belly-up, bail-out and leave you more haggard and neglected of basic human rights than you would have been were you actually born into homelessness]....but I digress

Long Term Care insurance is a kind of insurance that you purchase when you are young and healthy to ensure that, if the time comes that you need a private caregiver in your home, or assisted living, or memory care or nursing home care (we in Person-Centered Care call it "clinical" or "skilled" care to avoid the negative stereotype of "the home"), that you will have assistance with paying for these services instead of being financially drained,  forced to forgo your home, your assets and your childrens inheritance in order to qualify for a state Medicaid program (that may or may not exist when you get to that age) that will require you to stay in a "home" that smells like urine and death and is run by overworked untrained and underpaid staff because the government, and society in general, does not care one bit about our elders who paved the way for us while we acted like complete loons raising our children to be selfish, overweight, ignorant, undisciplined and entitled little shits who live by the NIMBY mentality

ahem

So I fax monthly invoices and three or four special forms the LTC Insurance companies for our residents. And this morning I had a voice mail from a daughter who said their insurance still had not paid for June, July and...one would assume, August. So I go back through the file. Yep, there's the FIRST confirmation for June and July, and there is the SECOND time I faxed it when the daughter came to me the first time, and there's the confirmation for August.....hmm...oh, and look, there is documentation of the phone call I made on August 10th following up to make sure the faxes were indeed received by the correct department (a phone call that was never returned)......I think it fair to say that it just doesn't seem the problem is on our end. So I re-fax all the invoices today. And here is where I momentarily lost control. The fax cover sheet for starters, where I made it clear (in a professional yet firm manner) that this was their issue...then I also included all the confirmations from all the faxes I had already sent,

then, out of spite (which  actually made me feel really...really pleased with myself), I faxed them the fax confirmation of the fax I sent today....

At that point I had a mildly frightening vision of me spending the rest of my day in completely uncontrolled frothing-of-the-mouth-craziness, faxing confirmation of confirmation of confirmation and then before 5pm sending a copy of all of it to their office in a FedEx overnight package. Did I unknowingly slip into the cast of Office Space? So I tore myself away and decided some blogging therapy may do me some good.

Thank you little blog. I do, actually, feel much better.

Now, onto my next victim.....mwahahahaah.

when no one is looking, there it is

She is staying with us in the healthcare wing

For stronger lungs and legs

They called me to ask for a room and said

She will be a good patient, but her husband is strange

And I said yes and offered a bed

She is 86 and he comes every day at lunch

For a week now

Today as I walked toward the exit for lunch of my own

He was signing in at the visitor register

Wearing his usual hardware store trucker cap

Khaki shorts, tube socks and old tennis shoes

Holding a grocery bag in his left hand and signing in with the other

I noticed, gripped next to the bag handle, a splash of red

Three tiny sprigs of red snapdragon

And in that instant I felt a deep throb

A penetrating ache

A wish that I could fold quietly into the moment when he,

Turning from his path to the car

Bent into her garden

pulled his pocket knife from his shorts

and clipped those three precious stems

to curl up and live inside

a simple, pure gesture of love

I suppose I am strange too

Really?

Motorcyclist Dies On Ride Protesting Helmet Law In New York 

ONONDAGA, N.Y. -- Police say a motorcyclist participating in a protest ride against helmet laws in upstate New York died after he flipped over the bike's handlebars and hit his head on the pavement.

Full Article

(melancholy jazz guitar...sound of pigeons flapping)

sitting here on the floor watching a movie, i felt something on my leg.

you know the feeling.

at first, you try to talk yourself out of it. it's just a loose strand of hair. it's just a twitch in your skin. it's just a piece of the wisteria you brought in last night. pieces of it fell all over the floor on the way to the table.

this went on for seconds. maybe even a full minute.

then finally i gave into the urge to brush it away. and of ALL the times i've brushed something away that wasn't really there. of all the times it was a loose hair, a twitch, a string from the hem of my clothes. i didn't even hurry to do it because i knew it was nothing.

but this time it was a little spider.

ugh.

well, i'm not sure exactly what it was because as soon as my hand touched it i went into controlled bug-panic mode. smash and flick. you know the one. i looked on my rug for what it might have been, then noticed a smudge on my fingers, and a smudge on my leg. so i assumed it was a spider, but it could have been any soft-bodied little bug.and it was little.  i figured it was one of those teeny little spiders that you find on flowers you picked in the yard. the tiny little green ones. or the little black ones. hopefully not the little black ones that jump AT you when cornered. those are just creepy.

well. the flowers are now on the patio.

so now it's getting up on 9pm. and all i can think about is that little fact and figure that used to go around. probably still does....it goes something like "the average human inadvertently eats about 6 spiders a year while sleeping" or something like that.

i mean, how the heck am i supposed to sleep tonight? or ever for that matter?

which also brings to mind that yesterday when i met our future landlady at the house we're renting. i was signing the lease and chatting happily, trying to let her know just how really really really glad i am we found that house. and i noticed a very small baby silverfish on the glasstop stove.

yes. a silverfish. i HATE silverfish. they are the one creature i simply cannot fathom why it did not go extinct with the dinosaurs. or even sooner. they are dreadful!

and the absolute restraint it took for me to see that little silverfish and NOT squeal and squash it with the paper i had in my hand? i didn't even casually put the agreement on it and lean down really hard. then it would have gotten all over the nice neat lease agreement. so what did i do? i IGNORED it. impossible! but i did it.

and then what. what kind of karma do i draw? a freakin spider on my leg.

(throws hands in air)

What a great evening was had last night! I headed to my parents for the weekend and Wayne took us out to the River Club for a spectacular dinner during Lobsterfest. Good food, good wine, my wonderful family. A girl couldn't ask for much more :) And thanks to everyone at CRC for a really memorable evening.

the day of the three-leafed shamrock

at some point I am going to learn to tap into my psychic abilities and do something really impressive with them....like pirate the cure for cancer, find the path to world peace....and...of course...win the lottery

until then I suppose I will continue to have these "I told me so" moments/days/years....sigh

but I'll start with the good stuff

Rob flew down last Thursday night. at first I was worried because his plane was delayed in Charleston due to high winds in Atlanta (the few curses of living near a tiny airport...tiny planes) and missed his connection to Brunswick, so instead of counting on him being able to find Delta sponsored transportation from JAX to here at midnight, I opted for the surest solution, drove down and picked him up (aren't I sweet?)


Then our weekend proceeded as follows. Friday: me to work, Rob's interview #1, walk on the beach, shopping in Brunswick, Oysters at Coastal Kitchen, Thai dinner with Liv and Serge then to her dad's bar for a few brewskies, home, bed, Saturday: make breakfast and send Rob to interview #2, veg at the apt until he returns with great news of a good job offer, go for a drive, lunch of barbecue sandwiches at Beachcomber, browse around a shop or two, return home and watch a movie, get ready for dinner, have wine with my friends Graham and Adelaide who live at Marsh's Edge, have the most fantastic birthday dinner at Delaneys, go to a party at Robs future boss's house, hear a great band there, go to Village Pub for more drinks and dancing to live music, in late, crash, Sunday: Rob up early being domestic, washing clothes and dishes and trying to roust me from the covers, go to the pool for a few hours, swim a bit, have ameri-mex lunch at Bubbas across the street and then go for a ride to look for houses...that was when we found this:

which is where we'll be living as of April 1st :)

later we went and heard the band from saturday night play at Locos down the street. met more people, i saw some folks i knew. it was a good weekend. Monday morning he flew out of brunswick bright and early. Early enough for me to catch a nap before going into work.


So, in the midst of all the glee, it was Sunday that I started getting nervous. I'm the kind of person who starts to worry when things are going too well. I am the one who knows that statistically if I drive 115 miles to work and back every day on a major interstate through a major city that at some point I'm going to get into a car accident (so I moved to a tiny island where I live 5 miles from work...very nice).

Right. So I was nervous. Worried. Fretful. I went into work Monday morning and the first thing that happens is the business office/HR girl comes in a slaps a random drug screen on my desk. And I'm like, well I don't use drugs so whatever, but then I start to worry, what if they mix mine up with someone elses? what if it's a bad test and I'm positive for everything? what if what if what if. I regularly drive myself nuts with those bastard words.

Then it dawned on me. My birthday was this week. Something was bound to happen on my birthday. But my birthday came and went and was GOOD. damnit. I even told the executive director about my drug screen fears so all day he teased me that I was getting fired for a positive result. But no, my birthday, which was yesterday, was wonderful. I have some NICE people I work with. Everyone was so kind! Olivia even brought a cake when we met for lunch. Then we went out for cocktails and dinner at Ocean Lodge and trivia at Village Pub.

I gotta say, it was a good day.

So I should've known that my luck would run out. And what better time for that to happen than...well...St. Pattys Day. If this is the luck of the Irish, I'll take the rain.

The first thing I realize is that I paid my mortgage twice this month. Thats great for my principal, and not great for my bank account. The second stupid thing I do is come home mid-day, using the work car b/c I had to drop off a coworker at a home eval, and left MY car keys at the apartment, so when I left work at the end of the day, no car keys. But, as bigDaddymitch would say...lets go back to this right here. While at work I decide to look for a washer and dryer on craigslist b/c I dont want to pay to have mine moved from the Newnan house. I find a set close by for cheep! Call him, he's good, will meet me later at the house, owner is cool with them going in a little early...all is well. So when I discover my keys are MIA I borrowed a coworkers car, met the guy at the house and when it was time to pay up, I realized I had grabbed my savings account deposit book instead of my check book. Fudge. So, I say, follow me to the bank and if you have change I'll give you cash. Which is obviously fine with him. So off we go to the bank. I pull out of the drive, onto Ocean Blvd and make the right turn onto Frederica to go to Suntrust. A few hundred feet under my tires and I hear something slide off my roof and catch a glimpse of my CELL PHONE as it flits off the trunk and splashes in pieces on the road where there is 6 o'clock 55mph traffic in full swing. Defeated, I pull into Suntrust, give Rick his cash and dart back to the scene of the accident to pick up the remains of my phone, praying the sim card isn't demolished....but...but...theres no phone! No trace! Nowhere! as if someone saw it from the sidewalk and snatched it up! I drove back and forth 3 times and was stunned.

And now. Now I don't know if I can count today as the balancing of all that good stuff over the weekend and birthday, or if this is just the beginning of the end....sigh.

So if anyone is trying to reach me (haha. yea right. my phone rings three times a day and its always rob...oh wait, sorry Andy, since you read these, hello and thanks for calling me. You were the last one I talked to before my phone was the victim of a smash and grab! and it might be a few days before I can call you back, btw)...I'm not just being antisocial. Not this time, at least ;)

oh my. Look at the time. And I've chattered my fool head off.

so I will drift off to sleep hoping that today was the worst of it. It could've been even worse, I know, but I literally felt like I had a gray cloud following me around all day. Also i felt like I was possibly developing a case of the dismentias...hehe. And, well, me and dementia fears are aWHOLEnother story...

now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my brain to sweep (the cobwebs from, that is)

night night little blogosphere.

There's a town called Don't-You-Worry
on the banks of River Smile;
where the Cheer-Up and Be-Happy
bloom sweetly all the while

Where the Never-Crumble flower
blooms beside the fragrant Try
and the Ne'er-Give-Up and Patience
point their faces to the sky

In the Valley of Contentment
in the Province of I-Will
you will find this lovely city
at the foot of No-Fret Hill.

There are thoroughfares delightful
in this very charming town;
and on every hand are shade trees
named The-Very-Seldom-Frown

Rustic benches quite enticing
you'll find scattered here and there
and to each a vine is clinging
called The Frequent Earnest Prayer

Everybody there is happy
and is singing all the while
In this town of Don't-You-Worry
On the banks of River Smile

March could be darker. Catapult.

my evening began...oh, around 4:30 when I lost interested in directly "work related" activity (oh wait, that was on and off all day)....but mainly when I logged into CNN and read the article about the dog who survived euthanasia. aw.

anyway, i suppose it may have sent my mind in exploratory mode, because this is how my evening went

despite my raging 72hr stomach bug, i had a hankering for a glass of red wine. and i refuse to open any of the other bottles i have at my house because...well, they're too danged valuable and shall only be opened at a time when i can share them with others who will appreciate the event as much or more than i do....or i should say just plainly--with others--because i dont tend to hang out with snobs or wine critics. so it will always be enjoyed if i have anything to do with it.

(even if it were a dreadful bottle of wine, wouldn't we just open something else and enjoy that? and then years later say, "hey, do you remember that time we opened that $220 bottle of wine and it was TERRIBLE?...man we had so much fun that night!")

exactly...so

i went to the store and bought a bottle of pinot noir (my fav) which was also on sale at the local winndixie. drove home and tossed together a small meal of cous cous & pine nuts and sauteed garlic and spinach

sat down to assess my mail situation. bills and advertisements. pushed them aside to assess my web mail situation. bills and advertisements--not unusual....bills, bill reminders, bank balance alerts and PND updates that i never read....there are a rare few regular emailers i have kept contact with. i guess its how i've crafted my life up to this point. it seems every time i have an opportunity to liquidate and minimize, i do it to the full extent. i only half meant to. i guess. and since i did take on a major relocation last year i guess it's normal (in my world) for some social fallout (<--fallout being a word I decided to work into my normal vocabulary tonight)

there was a random facebook update in my inbox, so out of sheer morbid curiosity i clicked on it and logged into my homepage and thanks to a high school class mate i was barely ever involved with, i clicked on an asteroid "end of days" style YouTube link, that referred to some asteroid that would barely miss the earth, oh, 2029 or something and then cause some kind of earth destruction in 2030-something....i dont remember. but i did google "asteroid-earth collisions" and came up with "impact events" (dang good phrase for it) so i began to read about that on wikipedia. and you know how it goes when you start reading on wikipedia. all these interesting linked words are all over the place. so my "impact events" search lead to "nuclear explosions" which lead to "volcanic eruptions" which led to "natural disasters" which led to "wild fires" which made me musedly wonder why pollution isn't a natural disaster....and reminded me of the river in ohio that caught on fire, cuyahuga, so that was my next search, which led to a brief review of REM's latest album Collapse Into Now
and then i was reminded that last time i checked my iPod i didn't have all my REM on there, so I began fingering through the collection of cds I still have and pulling the ones i thought I was missing.

This also led me to again acknowledge one of the rem TAPES i have saved, over the years.

and...I have only three tapes now. They are as follows.  In order of receipt.

Single: Donna Lewis- I love you always forever (from first official boyfriend. ever) 1996
Soundtrack: Music from and inspired by the City of Angels Motion Picture 1998
Mix Tape: REM Live 1981 and Live 1986 (which I believe I was given sometime in 1999 or 2000 or later)

so, for nostalgias sake, i drug out my Panasonic XBS jambox....which my mother gave me for christmas or birthday sometime in junior high...and has a cd player and a 2 tape deck but no longer will record tape to tape....sigh

and now I am uploading the last of my REM to my computer, who's memory is almost full (because I've had this wonderful little laptop since 2004)....thinking....how did I not have Monster on here? duh. and thumbing through the album art, the lyrics, the titles--I can't help but smile...there are very specific memories all wrapped up in every song. and I wasn't even alive for some of them.

ok. upload complete. goodnight little island

Bloomers

 

Above is what used to be a very small and shriveled Aloe plant that I salvaged last summer from the "death rack" at Home Depot. I consider this a rather nice "thank you"....I've never had an aloe that bloomed before! And today I noticed that another little succulent I just got a few weeks ago has put out a bloom bud. Spring has sprung :) 

weird things that happen when you live in an apartment

Today, for the first time in my life, I was knowingly spied upon....by a little old lady.

I live in a second floor apt and my big living room windows give a glorious view of the parking lot and a few of the steps that lead up to the three dwelling levels, including the one I live on. So I was sitting at my computer checking my email this morning around 9:30 and had just opened all the windows because it is another day in paradise, and because the morning sun prevents anyone from easily seeing into my apartment at that time of day....I didn't really notice her until she paused on the steps. An elderly lady carrying a bag of groceries. She had stopped and was peering up, which is what I noticed out of the corner of my eye and just to the left of my laptop screen. Then she went on up the stairs, stopped and walked to the edge of the landing and STARED for probably a whole MINUTE. I mean, who the hell does that? I knew she couldn't see me very well (of course I wouldn't just have the windows wide open without having at some point inspected the view...so I knew this was a truth)...but she sure was trying. And I suddenly felt....guilty? What the heck was I doing that was so suspicious?...so suspicious that it warranted a minutes worth of blatant peering?

I ignored her and went on typing my email, clearly aware she was looking at me. And she eventually moved along to her apartment. I tried to listen to which one she went into so that one day if I met her in the parking lot or on the landing I can go out of my way to say "HI" to my nosey neighbor.

A little later as I left to meet Liv for breakfast I too paused on the stairs to take a gander at my windows....wondering what could be so interesting. I settled on the fact that she must have been very curious about the staghorn fern and rosemary plant I have sitting on the glass-top table at the window (where my laptop also lives)....my brain accepted so I let it go, plotting to blog about it later.

After breakfast/lunch I drove around looking for a house to rent when Rob moves here in April. Then I came home and walked over to the pool to get a little sun and read...sat there for an hour and a half and then headed back to the safety and seclusion of my little abode.

On the walk back to the apartment I agreed to try to blog at least every other day....that's my initial commitment. It may change to...oh...once a week....or, considering the lapse between last nights and the one prior to, every 6 months. Haha.

Happy gorgeous Sunday on St. Simons :) A very lovely day indeed.

THE MIST

Around 3:30 pm today I rode with Olivia to pick up my car--my honda (all 309k miles of her) who just received a new set of tires and new oil, and new wiper blades (Merry Christmas ole Betty)--in Brunswick (the mainland). On the drive home, as I drove over the causeway to St. Simons, I noticed what I was sure was smoke...lingering over the water and in the trees on the island. The closer I got to my home the more worried I became that something big was on fire....my apartment complex? (wait...I turned off the iron, the clothes had already stopped drying....the vacuum wouldn't just spontaneously combust would it?...oh God....did I renew my renters insurance this year?...and....Stella!)...I could already see my valiant launch into the flames to retrieve my feline.

The apartment was not on fire, much to my relief. And no sirens or lights flashing anywhere, no-one running in the direction of the action...hmmmh. oh well. So I dropped off a few things and went back out to zip over to the grocery...and in the minutes I had been inside the smoke had thickened, but now I could tell it wasn't smoke, it was fog...but not just fog, it was mist (Dad, forgive me for not knowing the difference right off, I know you are slapping a proverbial hand to your forehead, but at the moment I plead ignorance)....very heavy mist, fog, water vapor, whatever it is supposed to be called....blowing around like smoke and wetting my face as it brushed by.

I always get a little creeped out when the fog invades the island. I plot how I will bunker in my apartment and last out the creatures that are sure to emerge from the thick white cloud rolling off the ocean and terrorize this small island....I have plenty of rice and cous cous, and several jugs of water...and beer....and wine....I would be good. Also living on the second floor I would hopefully avoid the creatures who preferred to sniff out only the ground level humans...and just in case, I have a 3 pack of wasp and hornet spray (hey, it worked in the story...and it shoots 30 feet...)

So the above pic is a view from across one of the lakes...err..ponds... at work--the last time the mist came.

I realize no one probably reads this anymore. I dont even come here often. But I felt inclined to blog today because it's just me here, I'm so rarely on the island I have become somewhat of an antisocial save for my 2 or 3 closest friends here (who, sadly, have lives of their own) so when a weekend rolls around that I can stay kerput, there is usually at least one night that I enjoy all to myself.

Tonight I thought it was gonna be one of those....I am out of Netflix, and my computer isn't new enough to stream video and I still am antiCable so I have no tele reception. But I did receive an invite to go to Tam's temporarily kidless house for girl time and a few beers...

...dare I venture into the mist?