Because I care

I annoy, because I care
I nag, because I care
I cuddle, because I care
I keep asking you what's wrong, because I care
I can't stop caring about you, because I care
I worry, because I care
I bake cookies, because I care
I piss you off, because I care
I miss you, because I care

Issues! Get your issues!

I'm a girl with issues. Now THERE's a newsflash for ya, right? Lots of little issues, for sure. Claustrophobia that rears it's ugly head mostly when my shoes or seatbelt are too tight. The incessant need to be as cute as I possibly can be at all times (which often isn't very cute at all but it's the effort that counts, right?) The sensitivity that means you really can hurt me just by looking at me wrong.

But mostly, the issue is abandonment. The knowledge that, sooner or later, everybody leaves.

It sucks, you know, knowing that even promises and vows aren't enough. Even my best isn't enough. Because in the end, vows are only as good as the air they're whispered to, and your best is only as good as the person accepting it from you. But still, the empty feeling of being left behind can be overwhelming.

My mother left when I still had questions, and sometimes I still feel really bitter with the knowledge that I'll never get to ask her why I was never good enough. Her leaving is permanent - just look in the can on the hearth at Dad's house. But with time I really have begun to heal from her death. It doesn't matter as much that my sisters got most of the jewelry. I have tons of good memories of Mom, and I cling to those moments of support, love and encouragement. I prefer to think that those were the moments when she was her true self. That the moments when I felt like I wasn't good enough were just her way of showing me she wanted the very best for her baby girl.

My husband left when I still had questions, too, and lately I've become extremely bitter with the knowledge that even if he did answer them, there is a high degree of likelihood that his denial runs so deep I won't ever get to the truth, anyway. The vows didn't stick. My best wasn't enough. The emptiness lingers. Not because he "completed" me, or any of that sick simpering crap Hallmark likes to sell you with its cards. No, this is the emptiness of a broken soul, of trust destroyed, of the lack of distinction between truth and lies.

So I've got issues. Don't we all? And the truth of the matter is, not everybody actually leaves. As Brian once said, it's not that everyone leaves; it's that everyone who promises they won't leave, leaves.

Promises can be broken. The bonds of true friendship and love cannot. Now that's something to hang your hat on.

Cranky is as cranky does

While driving to work this morning, I looked in the rearview mirror. The car behind me was following so closely I almost couldn't see it. But then it came into focus - a red two-door Ford Escort (with a black hood for the sake of variety) and a really angry woman at the wheel. So intent was she with maintaining near contact with my bumper, I thought she actually wanted to ride inside the Jeep.

I breathed a sigh of relief when she turned off.

But then, of course, she turned up again in my rear-view mirror, looking even angrier this time. (This isn't a picture of her, but it is a reasonable facsimile.) All I could do was laugh - ha ha, you pathetic weasel, your feindish plot to take a shortcut was thwarted by my superior wit and guile!

Quick as a flash, she was around me and causing havoc for every other driver southbound on 83. Which was fine with me, because I prefer to keep all the crazy drivers in front of me. With every lane change she proved my Universal Truth that the crappier your car is, the more people will just stay the fuck out of your way. But I just kept thinking to myself, "self, why don't people get their weary asses out of bed earlier instead of causing themselves so much stress on the morning drive? Have some coffee, play some Bach, relax and get to work happy, rather than looking like a constipated chicken."

As luck would have it, she and I hit every red light together. It was sort of a bonding experience. And when I finally turned on Foster to get to the office, I smiled and waved. She shook her fist at me. I'm guessing I had a much better day than she did!

True friends

It takes a true friend to use the phrase "Jesus, Margaret - let it go" and say it in such a way that I know beyond a shadow of a doubt it is meant with love and the sincere desire that I find enduring happiness.

It takes a true friend to come right out and ask if I'm mad when I behave against tradition.

It takes a true friend to back me into a corner and make me talk about what is troubling me, even when said friend is convinced he/she is at least part of the problem.

It takes a true friend to make cinnamon rolls when I crave something sweet.

It takes a true friend to really know what makes me tick...and what ticks me off.

It takes a true friend to know me inside and out, and love me anyway.

So much time, so little to do...scratch that, reverse it

Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin'...into the future.

Five months from today is my favorite day of the year, Christmas Eve. And here I am nearing the end of July, coming to the harsh realization that summer is slipping away. There are still tons of things on my summer to-do list, so I guess I'll have to get moving on them. Care to join me for a lazy Saturday on the beach, elephant ears at a festival, napping outside or a margarita on the balcony? Just let me know - the more, the merrier!

So now I'm back at the office after my vacation. It was more a respite from reality than a vacation, and it came with it's very own reality check, which was not part of the plan but hey, girl is flexible. I ended up returning home early after a phone call from the landlady, telling me the cats were being unusually vocal.

You would be, too, if you were locked in a closet for 56 hours.

For the most part, I enjoyed Karaoke Friday, especially because Mom Terry and Kelly's Mary were there. Got a little dicey inside the dark and twisty world that is my head, but I got through it. With the help of massive amounts of sleep, knowing who to call when I need to cry at 1 a.m., getting all the bad stuff down on paper and an impromptu afternoon laying in the grass. The combination of good friends and honesty does wonders for healing the soul.

Brush with really really short greatness

I have never felt so fortunate to have been pissed off.

This afternoon, someone who shall remain nameless pissed me off, big time. What's the easiest way to get on my bad side? Pick on one of my little peeps...and by that, I don't mean the marshmallow kind. My little peeps were shouldering the brunt of someone's uncontrollable temper, so I lashed back...and then, being the happy adult I am, I very gently stormed out.

I took a walk. Spending time looking out at the lake always soothes my soul. Headed back toward home, but figured I'd stop at the Market to say "hi" to Kim (who wasn't there anymore) and get a diet Coke. Left the Market and headed back around the block toward home.

As I turned the corner, I saw a very striking, very petite woman. Long brown hair in pigtails, jeans, brown t-shirt, white hoodie. Walking with her husband and what I'm guessing is a daughter. I thought to myself, my goodness, that woman looks just like Martina McBride.

And then, the old mental wheels started to turn. She's playing Country Thunder tonight; we're only about 20 minutes from Twin Lakes, site of Country Thunder...seriously, Margaret, you just walked past Martina Mcbride.

Slowly I turned..."Excuse me?" I said. She turned and looked up at me. Seriously, up...I practically tower over her. "Do people often tell you that you look a lot like Martina McBride?" She smiled at me and said, "Yeah, I get that a lot." Then, because I'm brilliant and I think really fast, I said, "In 1993, when you were up on stage and I was down in the audience, you looked a lot taller." She smiled, maybe even laughed a little. "Have a great show tonight," I said. She smiled, said thank you, and continued on her way.

I hope she and her family enjoyed a bit of anonymity in this small Wisconsin tourist town. I hope everyone who recognized her treated her graciously and allowed her to be just a tourist. And I wish I'd taken a shower. It never fails - when my hair's a mess, my clothes are dirty and I look like something the cat dragged in, I will rush headlong into a scenario in which I wish I'd primped a little.

Gotta hit the shower now.

Universal Truths

Similar to, but not to be confused with, The Bylaws.

• Do not try to out-bitch Kelly. You will merely strengthen the bitchiness within and frustrate the hell out of yourself in the process.
• Do not try to out-asshole Margot. Want to see an example of this in action? Be mean to one of my friends and you will unleash an asshole the likes of which you've never seen.
• Never underestimate the sister of an evil genius.
• Do not try to out-Mom Kelly. She's been mothering me since she was 13. She has perfected the art of motherhood to a science. And, she's earthy.
• Some people should just not get married. Trust me on this. I married one of these people.
• If children are crabby, put them in water. 9 out of 10 children surveyed recommend splash therapy for what ails them. The other one just needs a nap.
• If you fucked up today, you will have an opportunity to get it right or fuck it up even more tomorrow.
• Sometimes we all fall. Could be when we're drunk, clumsy, foolish or lack good judgment, but if you keep your friends close by all the time, you'll never hit the ground.
• Tequila first, fried potatoes second.
• Earthy and Lusty are compliments; Mean, Abrasive and Defensive are not.
• Home is where your people are.
• Some things are meant to be shared, like slices of cheesecake, really good books, and kisses - the chocolate and not chocolate kind.

Amor de me vida?

Some things take time to create or perfect. Like making the perfect souffle, or growing orchids, or learning a new language, some things just don't happen overnight.

That being said, I really don't think it should have taken 18 months for me to come to the conclusion that the guy I married might really just have been a jerk the whole time.

That's a hard thing to accept. It's even harder when I've been trying my damndest over the last year and a half to figure out what I did wrong, where I failed, why I wasn't enough. This time, making it all about me wasn't about being selfish. It was about not having to come to terms with the fact that I settled. I settled for so much less than I deserved.

Don't get me wrong, he is a wonderful guy. But when you get past the guy he wanted to be in order to make a life with me work, you have to then realize there's not much left. You have to accept the fact that if his lips are moving, he's probably lying. You have to acknowledge the fact that when my paycheck stopped coming in, he stopped wanting me. You have to cope with his incessent need to be whatever his latest lady love wants him to be.

It makes me sad, because I gave him the best years of my life...because with him I believed in stuff I'm not sure I can believe in again...because I'm not sure lightening can strike twice...because in some ways it seems like the past eight years were little more than an exercise in teaching me that the bad stuff is easier to believe for a reason.

how was i to know...

How was I to know my kiss goodnight was really a kiss goodbye?

I read that quote today, and it made me smile and cry at the same time. I've felt it so many times, wished so many times that I'd cherished that last kiss on January 19, 2006. So please forgive the sappiness of this post. Sometimes, I just can't help myself.

And yes, I remember the date.

Birthdays and Celebrations

July is a big birthday month. I have to assume that back before any of us were so much as a glimmer in our parents' eyes, there was a lot of sex in October.

Friday the 13th was Kelly's birthday. On the 13th of every month I wish Brian a happy birthday, because that was I'm sure to get the right month. (It's May, but we never celebrate on the actual day.) My sister Pat's was yesterday, the 16th, and today is my mother-in-law's and my friend Chris'. In a few weeks, it's my sister Jenn's turn.

Seriously NUTTY, and so far I've remembered all of them.

With each birthday that passes, I get closer to my own, and I can't shake the feeling of dread that comes with it. Not that turning a year older creeps me out - I've had all year to get used to the idea. But every birthday serves as a reminder that I sometimes have the judgement of a third grader.

Let this be a lesson to you, gentle reader: never get married on your birthday. And equally good advice is get a damn prenup, no matter how much you love each other. In every human being there are snakelike tendancies that come out when they are at their worst. Trust me...follow those two tiny bits of advice, and you'll be happier in the long run. Or at least you'll be able to really enjoy your birthday.

So this year, I think I'll celebrate other stuff, instead. Like Dweezil Zappa's birthday. My cousin Julie's wedding. Talk Like a Pirate Day (really, there is such a thing, and it's in September.) ADHD Month. Ramadan. Wife Appreciation Day (yeah, THAT'll happen.) But I'm gonna celebrate something, because life is too damn short to miss an opportunity to whoop it up a little and have some fun.

No matter who you married.

Blind Date with Destiny

That's what gets me up in the morning - knowing that today, I have a blind date with destiny. I have no way to know what the future holds, but I get out of bed, bleary-eyed, and the only thing I know for sure is there is coffee in my immediate future.

Today, I could win the Publisher's Clearinghouse Giveaway. I could be discovered by a talent scout. I could be offered money for my sexual prowess. I could go to bed drunk. I could go to bed with a drunk. I could try a new food, meet a new friend, drive a new direction, sing a new song, buy some new shoes.

I could also stub my toe, cry in sadness, get mugged, or lose my voice. But I'm still gonna take my chances, because on this particular blind date, you just never know.

Me, and sushi

I was reading today about how people train as sushi chefs, and the article went into detail about how it felt to learn such a precise trade. I loved this description:

It's both perilous and fascinating.

I wish he'd been talking about me!

90 degrees in the shade

I will never understand why The Boys (aka, my two cats, Benld, left and Josie, right) insist on sitting on my lap when it's hotter than Hades in my apartment. They're wearing fur coats and still they want to cuddle. They want to sleep right next to me. They want to quite literally be exactly where I am. It makes me feel special. And hot.

If your life had a soundtrack, what would be on it?

• Boogie Shoes by K.C. and the Sunshine Band
• She Will Have Her Way by Neil Finn
• Sloop John B by The Beach Boys
• Your Man by Josh Turner...or Nemo
• Eli's Coming by Three Dog Night
• Skullcrusher Mountain by Jonathon Coulton
• You Win Again by Mary Chapin Carpenter
• Banditos by The Refreshments
• Wanted by The Refreshments
• Mekong by The Refreshments
• Afternoon Delight by The Starland Vocal Band
• Be My Yoko Ono by Barenaked Ladies
• Vienna by Billy Joel...or Kevin
• Does Your Mother Know by Abba
• Dancing Queen by Abba...or Me
• Life is a Highway by Rascal Flatts
• All She Wants to Do is Dance by Don Henley
• Desperately Wanting by Better Than Ezra
• Thunder Island by Jay Ferguson
• The Wino and I Know by Jimmy Buffett
• Changing Channels by Jimmy Buffett
• Take Another Road by Jimmy Buffett
• Bimini by Hello Dave
• Problem Girl by Rob Thomas
• I Don't Like Mondays by The Boomtown Rats
• Life, in a Nutshell by Barenaked Ladies
• Hard to Handle by The Black Crowes
• Coming Around Again by Carly Simon
• Roll to Me by Del Amitri
• Not Enough Love in the World by Don Henley
• Overkill by Men at Work
• Whip It by Devo
• Yellow Ledbetter by Pearl Jam
• Don't Stop Me Now by Queen
• A Dying Cub Fan's Last Request by Steve Goodman
• Suddenly I See by KT Tunstall

...and more as I think of them

TGITWE!

Remember when Ellen Degeneres had a sitcom? She owned a bookstore, and in one episode, instead of TGIF, she proclaimed TGITWE - Thank God it's the Weekend! That's kind of how I feel today. There's something about having a holiday in the middle of the week that makes me look forward to the weekend even more than usual. Beach? Horseshoes? Beer? Who knows...but I can almost guarantee FUN!

On another note, isn't it enough to know I ruined a pony making a gift for you?

Life, liberty, and the pursuit of really good coffee

I know, I know...it's supposed to be "the pursuit of happiness," but in my world, really good coffee is happiness, so we're all just gonna have to deal.

Another 4th of July has come and gone. I spent the night before feeling a little weepy, sad over the loss of what began nine years ago. But I had a couple friends who checked in on me, and I made cookies. It's hard to be sad when there are cookies!

Spent the morning of the 4th cleaning. I love my apartment when it's clean! It's really such a little haven. I love my home. Then it was off to Kimberly's house (that's Patrick's youngest sister) for a pool party, an endless supply of food, and illegal fireworks.

There's just something about the water that I love. It feels good to just let my troubles float away, to play with the kids, to be one of the kids. After dinner, my four-year-old nephew Kristofer asked me if I was done swimming. Now, if you're fluent in four, you know this is actually a request to "suit up" and take him back in the pool. So I did what any good auntie would do - I got back in the pool. So what if it was dusk? So what if it was cold? I toughed it out, because the little guy wanted me to. There's nothing like the uninhibitted love of a four-year-old.

And once the sun was gone, it was time to paint the sky.

You name it, they lit it on fire. It's a Farbo family tradition. For as far back as I can remember, the 4th has been Kelly, Patrick and I in a Farbo front yard, crossing our fingers that the cops don't pay us a visit. This was no exception. I give you...the highlights:

• Rick's mojitos
• Chinese New Year (anyone want egg rolls?)
• Cops on bikes! Cops on bikes!
• There is a right way, and a wrong way, to load the damn thing
• Wanna go for a car ride?
• Who made the devilled eggs?
• Patrick! Patrick!
• Kelly! Kelly!
• You should've got stitches
• The kid looks just like a Hummel
• Pool made the ouchie all better
• I like that one, do it again!
• Was I the only one who appreciated the sweaty men playing volleyball?
• Rick loves me, but mostly because he thinks I made the cake
• Children make great shields in a water fight - I'm melting!

It was an amazing, fun-filled day. I went into it a little aprehensively, because...well, there was that whole "anniversary" thing to contend with. But as Kelly reminded me, the 4th has always been us, fireworks have always been us. We cherish our old memories, make new ones, and move forward together to see what the future holds. But one thing's for sure: as tradition demands, next July 4th, it'll be us, once again.

Independence Day

Okay, so it's not actually Independence Day. Today is Independence Day Eve, but tomorrow I'm declaring my independence from the computer, so the July 4th post is coming to ya live a day early.

It's hard to believe that nine years ago right now, I was packing to go to Madison to spend 4th of July with Kelly, Kevin and "the gang." Plans included canoeing, the Dells, Rhythm & Booms, and other assorted fun stuff. Plans did not include meeting the man of my dreams and falling in love. But that's what happened, and how we met is still one of my favorite stories.

Kevin and I were the only ones home, because everyone else had to go on the daily trip to Target. We were at the piano, singing through some of Kev's original compositions, when this beautiful man quite literally tripped into the room. There were toys in his path, causing him to make quite a memorable entrance.

I couldn't speak. For the first time ever, I couldn't say a word. I stood there, silent, for a few moments, while Kevin continued to be engrossed in the song. I don't think he even noticed he had a guest. Eventually, I found my voice enough to croak out "And who is this?" to Kevin. "Oh, him? That's my brother." Without even looking up from the keyboard.

Was it love? I couldn't say for sure. I've never been one to believe in love at first sight, but that's sure what it felt like to me. I was sure he would never return the affection, and yet he did. A few months later, he moved in with me. No small feat, that, since he was living in Arkansas at the time. We built a life together. We got married. We created our own Independence Day fireworks, I suppose.

Our relationship couldn't stand up to time. Instead, last year we celebrated our independence by being independent of one another, he living his own life and I living mine. And yet, I look back with joy rather than sorrow, because what we had was real, it was magical, and it was ours, even if only for a time.

So I look to tomorrow in hope that lightening can strike twice, that the road to love is not a dead end, and that I'm not destined to be the crazy bitter divorcee surrounded by 11 cats. And while I'm at it, I think I'll play a game of Uno, watch the fireworks, eat a devilled egg and cry at the 1812 Overture. Here's to Independence Day, whatever it means to you.

Plural

The plural of platypus is either platypuses or platypi.

And I changed my mind. They're actually very cute! (Click to biggify.)