In 1992 I took ballet at a little studio in Maryland, and at the end of the year we had a recital. Nearly everyone who was born in the 1980s experienced this first-hand at least once in their lives so you’d think that 30 years later tracking down something like the name of one of the pieces of music used wouldn’t be absolutely freaking impossible. After all, it’s the internet age – you can find anyone online. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve successfully tracked someone down from some prehistoric part of my life to ask them something random, I have actually gathered quite a plethora of random information this way, it’s kind of awesome. Well, I have met my match.
According to the scale, I’ve lost all of the weight from my second pregnancy. Heh, the reflection has changed a bit… so let’s celebrate the number.
Small victories, dammit.
I was super excited when my 4 year old woke up dry this morning, if for no other reason but the idea of getting to take a day off from doing laundry. Wahoo!
Unfortunately, the cat decided to throw up on her sheets about 30 seconds after she got out of bed.
I can’t win.
Hello 35 – we meet at last. I always knew this would come, and now that it has I am kind of… bummed. I feel like it’s not possible – it’s too early for me to be thirty-five, it is just too freaking soon. Way too freaking soon. Yes, thirty five years is thirty five years – it doesn’t come later or any earlier for different people. And no, it’s not a villain who is coming for you… but damn, it sure does feel that way.
I just want to say that I am beginning to lose my patience with this car thing. I hit the fucking deer on the 11th, the claim was filed on the 12th, the car was brought in for repairs on the 16th… it is now the 25th and all I’ve heard is that they’ve had to bring a claims adjuster back out to look at the vehicle multiple times.
Today I hit a deer. This is the second one this year, exactly 100 days after the first one. It was on the first of the year. So, to reiterate, January 1st of 2018 I hit a deer and then, 100 days later, I hit another one. That’s fucking crazy, right? I think it’s completely insane… I’m thoroughly freaked out at the moment. I am also a bit nervous about what might happen 100 days from now, or when I might hit deer #3 because everyone knows these things happen in threes… meep! I’m a very, very careful driver. I don’t text and drive, I don’t drive intoxicated, I don’t have a speeding problem, I am pragmatic about traffic laws… why have I become a magnet for large and destructive roadkill?
In this constant shuffle, chaos is imminent. The silence is precious and petrified, peace becomes noise and panic that never settles. In this perpetual derangement the kinetic confusion is punishing, it assaults my sense of center and grates at my ears, nerves and conscious. I can’t think, my brain is in this eyeless storm, churning around itself as it washes over the shores of my isolated stretches of sanity.
Sentimentality is certainly a strange and invasive beast. It attacks your functionality, it’s a storm you don’t even see coming for you until you’re caught up in the woes of something random and totally unexpected. I’m not an overly sentimental person – I have enough trouble keeping my house sufficiently decluttered to hang onto large chunks of the past that take up space in my home and my heart. I have trouble with sentiment – it comes from places that are very warm and very happy, but for some reason, they hurt like hell. Avoiding any and all things and situations that had the potential to stir up any sort of emotion became impossible after the birth of our second child (I held out pretty hardcore after the first one though), so in the process of trying to incorporate normal emotions into my life experience, sentiment has become a bit of a double edged sword. Yes, I enjoy genuinely experiencing my life with the entirety of myself but the emotions are super intense, and insanely random.
What Am I doing? That is a fantastic question. The entirely vague and vaguely personal answer is that I’m finally writing this damn thing. Apparently I’ve been pathetic… and in the course of becoming pathetic, I’ve gone completely insane. How the hell did I get here?
Two years ago I had insanely long hair, then I had the pregnancy from hell which resulted in the postpartum “experience” from the same place. A few days before Christmas I cut all of my hair off in a fit of rage – it had to go, I did what had to be done. I decided to just get it over with – stop torturing myself as I kept attempting to fix DIY gone-awry over and over again – just cut it off.