Time off

There is a wonderful feeling about sleeping late on a Sunday morning and knowing I can do the same thing tomorrow, if I choose to. Ah, the unbridled joy of a three-day weekend.

I spent yesterday cleaning la casa de Maggie. I usually resent having to spend a day on the weekend doing this, but not this time, because I still have two whole days to have fun.

Friday night, I did my part to cure AIDS by attending my friend Dan's fundraiser. He runs marathons to raise awareness and money for this oh-so-worthy cause. It was definitely a night well spent, and worth every Amaretto-infused-chocolate-covered strawberry I prepared for the event. Plus, in case you haven't heard, I have a world-class rack. Patrick's friend Mara (my friend now, too) told me so.

So today I'm off to "breakfast" with cute Brian, which is quickly turning into lunch, but who cares, and then to hopefully see Charlie, Cindy, Tori, Bex, Matt and Alice before having dinner with the Bieritzes. Tomorrow I'll be hanging with Clan Rice, and we'll just have to follow the wind and see where it takes us. Two things are certain: We'll have a great time, and I won't be working.

Insert satisfied, relaxed smile here.

If you try, sometimes, you just might find ... you get what you need

The last few weeks have been ... shall we say ... challenging?

I've always been a highly emotional person (as if you didn't already know) and lately, I've felt more raw than ever. Anger and sadness have permeated many hours. I've tortured myself by combing over files that should have been forgotten long ago - the 332 pages of messages between Christopher and Judi the Ho, in which he explains my every wrongdoing and comes off sounding like a wounded victim; the e-mail that made it perfectly clear we were done, in which I am told he has to choose between me and his sanity (which, I must say, looks downright artful as a Wordle - see below); and, in a fit of true foolishness, the journal entries from our early days together, hoping to catch a glimpse of truth in what I thought was my One Great Love.

But we all know by now, it wasn't. Instead, I think of it as my Greatest Failure. It's been pretty dark here in Maggie's World.

This isn't like me, really. I've tended to find the positives in almost every situation, but lately I have had a rough time doing that. I've been doing my thing, and crying all the while. Going to the gym and crying. Going to work and crying. Going to bed and crying. (Seriously, my ears are salty.)

And then, the phone rings, and it's Rae calling, just to catch up. Or I get a text from Cute Brian, wanting to know if we're on for breakfast this weekend. Patrick returns my call and offers his guest room. Bex and I attempt to plan a family outing, Dad makes reservations at my favorite restaurant, and an old friend surfaces on Facebook.

Mick Jaggar was right: you can't always get what you want. But if you try, sometimes, you really do get what you need.

I'm not pretending that I'm completely out of the woods. I'm prepared for the dark days to come and go. But sitting here today, after about five straight nights of tears, irrational thoughts and the deep desire to either eat my weight in pizza or cuddle up to the human equivalent of a natural disaster, it's comforting to realize that sometimes, they go, and I have full days of sunshine.

To anyone who's called, or answered, or e-mailed, or thought of me, or blogmented, or IMed ... thanks. It matters more than you know.

Best Wordle EVER

I wanna be like Mike

Mike Wordled his blog. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. I live to flatter Mike.

Below, the Wordle of my blog:Dig it? DO IT!

Ten on Tuesday

1. Over the years, I have learned stuff. Like rum and tequila and beer don't mix, but on those rare occasions when they do, and you discover just how badly they don't mix the next morning, a cheeseburger and fries makes you all better again. I first discovered this in New Orleans on March 18, 1997 (thanks to Rae.) It still works in 2008. Not that I would know; I'm too mature for such behavior.
2. I cannot give up coffee. I can get through the morning (barely) without causing irreparable harm to those in my midst, but by about 2:30 p.m., I need someone to hit. And my head is pounding. And I can't speak in complete sentences. I have cut back drastically on the amount I drink - from a full pot to about two cups - but please don't ask me to give up those two cups. Society and I need the buzz.
3. My dad is having knee replacement surgery next Wednesday. (Happy Birthday, Drew. Your favorite aunt's dad is getting hacked into on your Special Day.) Realizing Dad's knees aren't keeping up with him kinda forces me to accept that fact that he isn't as young as he once was. The man I always thought was indestructible ... isn't.
4. Walt Disney once said, "It's kind of fun to do the impossible." I agree with him.
5. In both Wisconsin and Illinois, the law in requires motorists to shift lanes, where possible, to give stopped emergency vehicles or tow trucks a safe zone in which to work. In other words, it's not just courteous, it's the law that you must change lanes to allow an open lane for the cop who has pulled over a speeder, or the nasty accident, or whatever. According to the law, when approaching an authorized emergency vehicle or tow truck stopped within 12 feet of the pavement and which has its emergency lights operating, you should shift lanes, if possible, leaving the lane next to the emergency vehicle open. If shifting lanes is unsafe, motorists are required to slow until they are past the emergency vehicle. I didn't know about this law, and neither did a friend of mine who got a nasty ticket over the weekend. Be warned.
6. Also in Wisconsin, motorists must give way to livestock. While the person in charge of the animals has the responsibility to "use reasonable care and diligence" to keep the road open, the livestock does have the right of way while crossing a road and you must stop. It's also the law that if someone is riding or leading a frightened animal and gives you a signal of distress, you must stop until the animal is under control. So next time I try to ensure that a squirrel makes it to the other side unscathed, as long as I'm in Wisconsin, you have to wait for me.
7. I've had some crazy bouts of sadness lately. I really don't feel consciously down post-divorce, so I don't think that's it. I do know that I am petrified of the pending birthday (so much so that I cannot bring myself to celebrate) and I think it's kinda wrapped up in that. Getting older sucks a little.
8. I made a crockpot meal for dinner tonight. New recipe - Slow Cooker Salsa Chicken. If it's good, I'll share the recipe. If it sucks, we shall never speak of this again.
9. As the days are getting cooler (dammit), I find myself missing South Haven all over again. Maybe I need a vacation. Maybe I need to see the family. Maybe I just need s'mores.
10. This is my last weekend at the pool. I will probably spend the day Monday at the gym, a great portion of which will be spent out at the pool, squeezing the last few rays of sunshine out before it closes down for the season. Goodbye, suntan. See you in June.

Well, carp

I really meant crap, but it's much more fun to transpose the letters.

Holy carp! You're full of carp. I feel like carp on a stick.

See what I mean?

Anyway, the reason for the load of carp this evening is ... Hunky Gym Guy is engaged. (No, John, not you; you're the gay side of unavailable.)

That sucks. I had made up my mind that in 20 pounds, I was gonna ask him for coffee. Alas, he's sharing coffee with someone else. So I suppose I should amend my earlier comment - all the good ones are either married, gay or both ... or engaged.

Heavy sigh.

This is where I remind myself that I really like my solitary life, that I'm really not interested in dating, and that I'm honestly better off this way.

So far, it's working about as well as nailing Jell-O to a tree, but I have hope. And a lot of nails.

New memories

One clear sign that I'm aging is that everything I do seems to remind me of something else, some past event. Seeing "Hello Dave" last weekend reminded me of enjoying their music in college. Eating tacos reminds me of the fiestas we had with the neighbors when I was a kid, and we'd lose track of how many we'd eaten, they were that good. And going to the Renaissance Faire never fails to remind me of the times I attended with Christopher.

Most glaringly, the last time he and I went together. That would have been September 5, 2005. The date is significant - it was the day I turned 39, and our fourth anniversary. But even though it was my birthday, only he received a gift.

The Faire had always been Christopher's thing ... his endeavor to be outfitted like a gentleman, although inside he truly was not. That year, I spent all the money I had, and some I didn't, on boots for him, to complete his ensemble. He enjoyed going in costume each year, and I figured it was an investment in the years and years we'd enjoy going together.

But we never returned.

So I have steered clear of Bristol, WI for the past few summers. Honestly, giving myself over to Elizabethan England has just been to painful to fathom. But this year, I went.

Amber, Kelly, Kevin, Drew, Drew's friend Chris (who is sporting a smashing new hairdo,) Aubri and Kristofer (my nephew, not my ex) and I descended upon Bristol with all the energy we could muster. Walking through the gates, we wished everyone Good Morrow and asked "Whither be the privvies?" It was lovely. There were garlic mushrooms, fried cheese, sassafras, roast beast and bald men with whips. (Be still my heart!) There were knights and ladies and costumes and fairies and harpists.

And then, there was the bootmaker.

Walking past Windwalker's, the chills set in. Ah, the cold sweat that comes from indescribable pain. I couldn't bring myself to walk in. Instead, Kelly took me away from the spot, so I could just live in my happy state of denial.

That was the only drama for me, really. The rest of the day was about joy, laughter, and men in tights. It was a day for taking an old memory - a memory that brought with it the hurt of a thousand selfish acts - and making it better with fairy dust and giggles. It was a day to be happy for my life, filled with wonderful people who go out of their way not to hurt me, instead of the other way around.

Huzzah!

Good news Thursday

Did I tell you my sister Jenn has leukemia? She does. It's the "good kind" - chronic lymphocytic leukemia, or CLL. My bro is a bone marrow match, and they've harvested the cells in case the day comes when she requires a transplant. If you wanna read more about that little miracle, click here.

But anyway ... today she called me to tell me that at her latest appointment with the doctor, her white blood cell count had actually decreased. This is a trend I can live with. Although the doc said it's still in the same ballpark, Jenn said, "Sure, but it's the difference between a single and grounding out." Amen, girl.

Tonight I went to the gym, and after Salsa class John and I took a dip in the pool. As we were wandering around in pool area, one of the instructors stopped to say hi, and when he looked at me, he noticed I'd lost some weight. I of course passed it off as just being a good-fitting suit. "Wear it a lot," he said. Love him!

But not as much as I love John. John listened to me blubber on and on about the rough time I've been having at work, and offered some great perspective. Sometimes, your friends are there right when you need them. That was John tonight.

Why is it that all the awesome men in my life are gay, or married, or both?

Tonight was a good night, and we're coming to the end of a rough week. Eight more hours of work, and then ... weekend. Hope yours is wonderful. I'm planning for mine to be.

Ten on Tuesday

1. People are allowing this whole back-to-school thing to interfere with summer. Ladies and Gentlemen, it's summer until the Autumnal Equinox on September 22. Get with the program and keep on enjoying summer!
2. I don't watch television enough to warrant the cable bill. Believe it or not, this former couch potato has cancelled her cable. If there's something on cable that I really want to watch, it will be on at the gym. Two birds, one stone.
3. Mmm ... brownies. I still have over half a pan at home, from my baking last week. I'm going to have to freeze them because I'll be damned if I'm gonna toss them out. So very delicious!
4. John and Colleen. That's it, just John and Colleen - two of my favorite people who just LOVE to be named in the blog. Have you met John and Colleen? If not, well ... you have no idea what you're missing.
5. My bedroom looks like a cyclone hit it. I did laundry on Saturday; it's still in the basket. I haven't made the bed in about a week, and those of you who know me know that I generally make the bed every day, because I think it looks pretty. There are random articles of clothing (alas, all mine) strewn haphazardly all over the place, hairballs underneath the heat registers and none of my jewelry has been put away for about a month. It's embarrassing and sad and I have no one to blame but myself. So now that it's in writing, I'll have to clean it when I get home from the gym tonight. Really ... how can I stand to sleep in there?
6. Sometimes, it takes a little effort to get what you need. There are moments I like to have people around me. That can be tough, since the only beings who share my space with me are two cats and up until last night that huge mosquito-like thing that got a bad case of shoe at around 9 p.m. So when I need people, I have to drive. But it's so worth it. A little time in the car brings me to Bex, Matt and Alice, or Clan Farbo, Clan Bieritz, or even the entire state of Wisconsin. A little planning and I can meet up with pretty much anyone. So be warned; you never know when I'll show up. And yes, James, that includes you.
7. The weather lately has been perfect; warm or hot during the day, cooling off nicely overnight. I get an awesome cross-breeze in my messy bedroom, and sleeping under a quilt is just heaven. Once I learn how to ignore the mess. I have really got to clean.
8. I'm kinda having a platypus day. Feeling lumpy and ugly, but I suspect it will pass. Much like a kidney stone.
9. Made Asian Chicken Lettuce Wraps for lunch today. I'm a little in love with myself now.
10. Seeing Hello Dave over the weekend really made me miss college. We had some incredible good times back then, piled onto the sofa at la casa de Maggie, or trespassing, or dreaming about our future, or huddled around a corner table at Friends plotting world domination. I miss who I was back then. I know I can't go back, but I'm trying to figure out how to bring the best parts of Maggie Then into the world of Maggie Now.

How I spent my weekend

Sadly, I didn't get pictures of everything fun from my weekend. The reason for this is twofold: 1) There was way too much fun this weekend to capture it all. 2) I don't have a "real" digital camera, and the one on my phone can only capture so much.

But regardless, a good time was had by all - even the people I don't know. Here's a not-so-brief synopsis:

Friday night I shopped for groceries and cleaned la casa de Maggie. Exciting, huh?

But I was up and out the door early to hit the gym before the festivities of Saturday began. I did an hour of Salsa/Funk and then hit the showers to clean up and primp before heading to Matt & Becky's. Along the way, I passed this and thought of Mike:

I did not stop. There is a law against eating White Castle without the Tucson Contingent. Instead, I stopped at Panera for tuna salad sammies. And pickles.

Had a great visit with Matt and Becky, but let's face it: the real reason for my visit was an itty-bitty girl who seemed delighted to see "Mahkee!" A visit with a tiny person has a few requirements: 1) the auntie must ooh and ahh over all the toys. 2) By "all the toys" I mean "all the toys." The girl kept bringing them to me. I'm pretty sure she's still unpacking the toybox. 3) I can build towers higher than Matt can before Alice knocks them over. 4) Many things go on the auntie's head. 5) Baby hugs are the best.

Becky and Matt took lots of pictures (which I'm sure will be included in an upcoming blog update, right, Bex? This is a not-so-veiled hint.) but here's an Alice smile to tide you over.

After our visit, I headed down to my dad's house to visit and do laundry. Two birds, one stone, no pictures.

So, post-laundry, I was off to my last stop on my Tour du Suburbia: Patrick's mom & dad's 50th anniversary shindig. Good food, good friends, good music, and little people. Who could ask for anything more? Well, you could ask for pictures. Too bad; I have none.

Then it was off to Lake Geneva for Venetian Fest and Hello Dave! It was awesome to hear "Biminy" and "Golden" live again. The bands sounds as great now as they did 11 years ago. Amber, Michelle and I (and our special guest Kelly) danced and enjoyed the music, and Nemo and Lana stopped by for a bit but disappeared as quickly as they arrived. Dude, where'dja go?

Either way, the main attraction was Hello Dave.

Serious big fun - great music, cold beer, good friends, warm and clear night. BTW, the big black box on the left side of the photo is their speaker set-up, and also the reason why Amber, Michelle and I are still regaining hearing in our left ears.

On Sunday, Amber and I got up and headed into downtown for coffee. Mmm, tasty beverage of life. Because she makes friends easily, Amber can be seen above sharing her sunglasses with one of the decorative horses found throughout the town. Then we walked around at the craft fair and stopped at Harry's (where the services is beyond fabulous) for a little nosh. Then it was back to the pool to catch some sun before heading back to Venetian Fest for fair food and fireworks.

There was a whole lot of activity and even more fun over the 48 hours I like to call "weekend." I wasn't quite ready to come home yet, but duty calls ... until Friday.

I've kept it to myself for a week ...

But honestly, it's hard to contain myself. I love the Olympics! I always have. I can remember watching the Opening Ceremonies with my mom. The fanfare alone gives me goosebumps.

There will probably be more, but one week into the games I feel compelled to mention the Olympic things for which I am grateful.

Michael Phelps. Holy crap! His unbridled joy when swimming just cannot be contained. He makes it look so easy, and yet we know better. It doesn't hurt that he has a bod that just won't quit. One of my sisters has taken to calling me Mrs. Phelps. But I don't want to marry the guy. I just wanna look. And if he's swimming while I'm looking, so much the better.

Dara Torres. She's an absolute inspiration. At age 33, she became the oldest swimming gold medalist, and she hopes to raise that age to 41 (yes, 41 ... that's my age!) in Beijing. She has helped me redefine what 41 looks like. Look what we can do when we put our minds to it!

Lopez Lomong. Born in Sudan, he was kidnapped and separated from his parents during a civil war. As a prisoner, he watched other boys die of dysentery and starvation. Eventually, he escaped and made it to a refugee camp in Kenya, where he spent more than a decade there before coming to the United States in 2001. As flag bearer for the United States, Lomong serves (to me, anyway) as a reminder of the best of what the Olympics gives the world - great athleticism, great accomplishment, and global community.

Michael Phelps. Heck, he's Michael Phelps; he can be on this list as many damn times as I can stand to type his name.

Water Polo. Please, Lord, send me a male water polo player. They are beautiful. I don't need a whole team. Just one, lovely player. And the energy to keep up with him.

Bob Costas. I know he's a little much sometimes, but I just really enjoy him. I find him entertaining and interesting. Like most of my favorite people.

That's all for now, but we've got a week to go. And if you run across a water polo guy, send him my way, wouldja?

It's part of my charm, right?

I've reached that point where I don't realize the obvious.

I looked at least somewhat cute today. I was sporting a black denim pencil skirt (which fits like it was made for me and let's face it ... last year this time, I could barely say the words "pencil skirt," much less fit into one) a white tank top and a cute black cardigan. The best part, though, was the shoes. Black Mary Janes, with three-inch heels. I looked like me, only better.

So I go about my day, being cute. I leave work, drive to the gym, walk in and stop at the cafe to get a bottle of water for the workout. In the cafe I run into the girl who usually checks me in at the front desk. I don't know her name, but I know her, ya know? Anyway, she looks very cute today, too. She's not wearing the usual athletic clothes, so she looks different. And of course, I have to say something. So I say, "You look too pretty for your own good!" She smiles, says thanks, and goes back to her conversation with a group of guys. At which point, one of them looks at me and says, "You're looking pretty great yourself," and I barely catch it. Because everything is funny in Maggie's World, I remark that of course I look good, I showered, and ha ha ha aren't I funny.

It was about 15 minutes later that I realized there's a high degree of likelihood that he was flirting with me. Yeah, I'm pretty charming, huh?

I have it on good authority that I am capable of flirting, and accepting flirtation in return. Despite a mountain of evidence to the contrary, I'm gonna try and believe it.

In other news, I talked to Mike today. He hates my picture on Twitter; says I look like my tonsils hurt and I have to pee. Aren't brothers fun? But the best part was hearing Kaylee say "I love you Maggie" three times in the background. The girl makes my heart melt.

Random thoughts on a Wednesday night

Ouch. I pulled a hip flexor a few weeks ago, and it's still not healed completely. Plus I worked out like a lunatic tonight. Goodbye, 626 ugly calories. Hello, every muscle in my body. They're crying at me now. Thank you sweet little baby Jesus for Advil and massage.

I love technology. I love that someone can find you on Facebook and it can lead to half an oodle of other people coming out of the woodwork to love you like the past 15 years didn't happen. I love that Becky responds to me on Facebook, and I can ogle Ryan's bike there, and James occasionally pops up. I love that Stuart and I can't watch a movie together, I love that I figured out who Polly is, and that Di is having another boy. But most of all I love the coincidence - if I believed in such things - that so many people happened to find me this week. My first week being single again has been filled with people from my past, returning to the girl who is returning to herself.

My hair smells like my mom. Actually, my shampoo, Agraria's Bitter Orange fragrance, smells like the tea she used to drink. When I turn my head sometimes, I swear she's in the room with me. It's wild.

I've had a real platypus day. I guess missing the gym last night really took me down. I've felt kinda puffy and ugly all day. I'm glad the day's over, and I can get back to fabulous tomorrow! (By the way, John ... I did make it to the gym tonight, and I will be there Thursday, Friday and Saturday. You're kicking my ass, my friend!)

Pretty soon, I get to dance again! My hip-hop teacher left the gym six weeks ago, and has been looking for the right place to teach, and she's found it. Either next week or the week after, this aging white woman will start hitting it again. Trust me ... I've got moves you've never seen. ;)

Today was a better day at work, but this week I really feel like I'm earning that little thing we call "the weekend." Only two more days!

Ten on Tuesday

It's been a weird week. I Twittered earlier in the week that "Today's been a roller coaster ... up, down, curve, scream, pray it's over, get back on." And it's really been a full week like that.

But I keep getting back on, because the ride's pretty keen.

Ten thoughts from this week:

1. The majority of all disappointment in life is the result of unrealistic expectations. That being said, the majority of all expectations in life are unrealistic.
2. You cannot Jedi mind-trick yourself out of a crap assignment at work. Nor can you get additional time in which to complete the crap assignment by hopping in a Delorean and looking for Christopher Lloyd.
3. I'm pretty convinced Josie, one of my cats, is on her way out. She's old, and she's had this crazy hump-back tumor thing for about 18 months, and she doesn't eat and did I mention she's old? I'm coping pretty well, though. I will miss her, but she's not connected to my heart the same way Benld is. I have to admit, though, lately it's been extra sweet to hold her and just let her purr. And yes, we're seeing the vet on Thursday, just to make sure she's not in pain.
4. I need some new yarn. It's almost knitting season.
   
5. It's only Tuesday, but I'm already looking forward to the weekend. I get to spend Saturday with three different parts of my family - lunch and early afternoon with Bex, Matt & Alice, late afternoon and church with my biological dad, brother and an assorted sister or two, and the evening celebrating Mom & Dad Farbo's 50th wedding anniversary. Following the party, I'm heading up to Lake Geneva to catch part of Hello Dave's show at Venetian Fest, and then spending Sunday with my Wisconsin family. And I get to see fireworks. My first fireworks since becoming single again. Yes, I'll probably cry.
   
6. The smell of brownies makes Chez Mags feel perfect. The fact that I can eat one and take the rest to work makes all the difference in my butt.
7. I love my library. I love it so much I'd like to move in there. They won't let me; I asked. They have 10,000 titles on DVD, free rental for a week. They have every book known to man, sometimes two or three copies. Plus, it's pretty.
8. I am fortunate to know a great number of terrific men. Which is a good thing, because if I did not have such evidence to the contrary, I would be rather certain they were all stupid lumps of poop. My delightful, handsome readers excluded, of course.
9. I'm not sure why, but I'm having several kinds of difficulty getting behind this whole birthday thing this year. Don't get me wrong, there will be celebration, but now and then they hit me out of the blue and knock me flat. The last time that happened, it was when I turned 25. For some reason, 42 seems to be hitting me the same way. I prefer to think that this is because I am still as youthful as I was at 25, but I'm pretty sure it's because I've aged more in the past year than I have in my entire adult life.
   
10. I need a new headboard. I am completely done with sleeping in the bed he picked out. Dunno whether it'll come from Craigslist, Ikea, Crate & Barrel or stolen from a model home, but it's gonna happen.
    

That's it, that's my ten. Like I said, it's been quite a week; I could probably go for 20. But I gotta save something for the slow weeks, right?

Who we choose to love (Updated)

This was one of those days to be remembered for a long time. A day filled with the combination of conversation and silence, tears and laughter, coming together and letting go.

Last Sunday, Patrick invited me over for "dinner," which really meant frozen pizza while I helped him unpack the truck he'd just brought back from California. Today, I repaid the favor, by inviting myself over for a "visit," during which I lounged on the sofa in between loads of laundry.

Landry is free at Patrick's. It's $2.50 a load here. Plus, at Patrick's, I have Patrick, Ed, and three dogs to be loved and entertained by. A pretty easy choice, from where I sit.

Patrick with Zoe. He loves her almost as much as he loves me.

There I was, newly single, with the one person in my life who has known me the longest. Well, apart from my biological family, anyway. Patrick is my best friend, my first love, the man who taught me how I deserve to be treated. Patrick is ... well, he's my Patrick. I got to spend the afternoon getting clean underwear, and cuddling on the sofa with one of the people who brings joy to the furthest corner of my heart.

We were curled up listening to CDs and napping on and off, surrounded by dogs and pillows and love, and I was having myself a good cry over the way I seem to be so good at choosing people, except when it comes to romance, when he breaks the silence and says "Do you know how to sew?" The man cracks me up. Yes, I know how to sew. Yes, I will teach you. Now shut up and let me cry.

Oz. He has a longer name, but I don't know how to say it. He's just Oz to me.

Daphne. She's completely bored by me.

Zoe, who thinks she's a lap dog.

Then, tonight, I had dinner with Cute Brian. Cute Brian and I met in college, and at the time I remember looking at him and thinking how much he looked like Patrick, and knowing at first sight we would be friends. He and I have a sordid and interesting past, and he is my closest friend ... geographically speaking. He's the one who drove me all over creation that day last summer when Christopher moved out. He turned a gut-wrenching day into a top-down Jeep adventure, letting me cry and assuring me it was all going to be okay, eventually. And he was right.

Cute Brian being - what else? Cute!

So tonight we made dinner at my place and ate out on the patio. Which is really hysterical, considering I don't have a patio. No, we took our burgers and potato salad and beer (God Bless the Spotted Cow, the official beer of Maggie's divorce) out to the side yard and sat in the grass and ate as if it were the most normal thing in the world. People walking by seemed to get a charge out of it. Especially the couple to whom I felt the need explain, so I said to them with mouth full of burger, "I don't have a patio!" The laughed. And I think they walked a little faster.

After dinner, we took our usual walk all over town. We usually just wander. Tonight we wandered into the ice cream shop. Yum! So then we had to walk it off. The entire time, we never ran out of stuff to talk about, even if it's just me saying in a loud voice, "Yeah, you'd better wanna see me naked!" just to see if I can embarrass him. FYI ... I can't.

And now, I'm home, thinking about today and how much it meant to me. I spent the day with two men who know me - really know me, the good, stuff and the bad. These guys know all my secrets, my flaws, my insecurities, and my not-so-charming quirks. And still, after all this time, they choose to love me.

I'm lucky. I have an abundance of love, spanning this entire country (and recently, I've gone global - thanks, James!) It's a good feeling, to know that people can love you, understand you and accept you as you are, forgive you for your mistakes, appreciate you when you get it right, comfort you when you need it and teach you how to throw a Frisbee so you stop hitting people in the nose.

Here's to more days like this, with those I choose to love.

PS: Brian says he loves me. He thinks I'm keeping it a secret. He's wrong.

The speed of light in Cook County, IL

I've been divorced for two days, and I didn't even know it.

It hasn't really sunk in yet. I can't explain why that is, honestly. I mean, come on ... it's been two and a half years coming. Why am I surprised? I guess I just didn't think the system would work quite so quickly ... and yet, there you have it.

I'm divorced.

I don't know whether to laugh, cry or throw up. So for the moment, I'm gonna crack open another beer, put my feet up and figure it out.

Moments

Life is a series of moments. Moments of realization, moments of complete joy, moments of pain so intense you're not sure you'll survive to feel anything else.

It's not like you remember everything about a fantastic vacation, a week on the beach with those you love. No, you take with you memories of moments strung together with a ribbon laughter and love.

It's not like one moment a marriage was thriving and the next it was over. No, there were moments along the way - moments of disappoint, hurt and anger on both sides, combined with moments of desparation, trying to patch things up and make it better and begging - yes, begging - him to love you again. It all led up to that one moment when the knife went in and stayed there.

And it's not like all of a sudden you no longer need your mother to answer all your questions. No, in time you learn some of the answers, and you realize you don't need the others, so in a moment of clarity you're finally ready to let it go.

And the moments just keep on coming.

This morning, I reached into my Huge Bag and dug all the way down to the bottom to locate my Perfect Lip Gloss. I came up with a tube of Vicious Trollop and sand under my fingernails, causing me to ponder so many moments that have come to define my life over the past few years.

• The moment on the beach a month ago, singing in perfect harmony ... and knowing that perfect harmony went a whole lot deeper than just the song.
• The moment I walked toward Christopher to finalize the paperwork and didn't feel the need to run into his arms.
• The moment I looked at my baby nieces and realized they were, indeed, my nieces, even though we share no blood relation.
• The moment my father asked if I needed money before I left on vacation and realized that, to him, I'm still a little girl.
• The moment I realized that when I need a hug, all I have to do is ask.
• The moment it sunk in that sometimes I haven't seen James for two years, and it's been okay ... but it sucks now because I know he's really far away.
• The moment "home" started being defined by the people, and not geography.
• The moment, just scant hours after meeting Clan Carlson, I knew they would be in my heart forever.
• The moment a friend insulted me and I realized our relationship was changed forever.
• The moment Cute Brian and I swayed to "Green & Dumb" with countless people we didn't know ... and all was right with the world.
• The moment I woke up in the middle of my bed for the first time in ten years.
• The moment Rae gave me "the look," and I understood exactly what it meant, and loved her for loving me enough to give it to me.
• The moment I joined the gym, and never looked back.

There are more, but if you're reading this, you probably know a bunch of 'em. We've probably shared plenty, and many more as time goes on. I just pray we're wise enough to know that the bad ones will fade, and to treasure the perfect ones while they're here.

Life's too short for anything else.

The stuff that spills out of my head

It's nice to finally open the windows and let the fresh air flow. Thank you sweet little baby Jesus for lowering the humidity and temperature. 80 feels cool today.

I have to be careful what music I listen to. I will know that my heart has finally healed (or at least scabbed over) when I can sing along to "Ghost" by the Indigo Girls without crying. Today on the way home, I was still unable to do so. Two steps forward, one step back.

Once upon a time, I worked a miracle at the office. Someone needed something created from nothing to brilliant in about an hour, and I did it. Although it's a Microsoft product, I have to admit that I am somewhat of a guru at PowerPoint. My design background and my innate understanding of the difference between Great and Subnasty presentations have earned me the title. However, I cannot be brilliant every time in an hour. So I suppose I should feel lucky I had an hour and a half today. I may never be able to convince The Powers That Be that, given a couple of days, I could knock their freakin' socks off. It sucks knowing that the work they think is Good Enough could be Awesome, given enough time. I guess it's the perfectionist Virgo in me.

I seriously miss my cleaning lady. I haven't had one since the Days of Happy Marriage when we lived in Naperville, but damn, I miss the luxury of that clean-house smell in exchange for a check. Not in the budget right now, but something to work toward.

The neighbors think I'm nuts because I dance with the vacuum. But I don't let it dip me.

Ten on Tuesday

1. Aging Divorcee Learns New Skills. I think I left my calendar/address book at the Lake House. I'm learning to cope without it. Maybe I didn't need to be quite so attached to it? Sure, I'm going to need some method for planning so I don't miss important things, but perhaps I don't need to be so dependent on a binder that I don't like to be away from it.
2. My Butt Bones Hurt. Last night was spinning class. I love it, and I'm getting used to it, but still, every Tuesday, it hurts to sit. I think perhaps this is telling me to get up and stretch more often.
3. It's a Wet Heat. The dog days of summer are upon us, and with them comes humidity. Not as bad as monsoon season in India (so far, James, there has been no mold on my hat) but bad enough that I don't think my skin will ever be un-sticky. And even the rain doesn't bring relief; we had serious storms last night (pretty yet treacherous to drive in) and it's still 86 degrees outside (but the heat index is 92; how ... tropical.)
4. My Father Amazes Me. He will turn 80 next year. He leaves for Disney World on Saturday, with my nephew and sister. He plans to ride the Rock-n-Roller Coaster at least six times. In a row. He is wise, kind and funny. Not a bad role model. Every time we talk on the phone (which is every couple of days, usually) he ends the call by saying "Gotta go; have to pack. You know I'm leaving for Disney World on Saturday, right?"
5. Being Stuck in a Storm Can Be Nice. Last night, when I was on my way up to Marge's to drop off The Divorce Papers, Patrick called. "Hurry up and get there, and just stay until I tell you it's okay to leave," he tells me. He was watching the stormline on the news, and he didn't want me to get stuck in anything nasty. So I sat and talked with Marge for a couple of hours, heard some stories that were new to me (after all this time, there are still some that I don't know!) and laughed so hard our sides hurt. Finally at 10, I was cleared for take-off. And I was sad to leave.
6. Leave an Open Door. The Best Band Ever, Roger Clyne & The Peacemakers, released this song on their "Americano" album. It caught my ear this morning, with its message of moving forward but leaving an open door behind you. "Sing about the dawn in the middle of the night, leave an open door behind you. Stumble through the dark so that we might see the light, leave an open door behind you." I hope I do that. I hope that as I progress through life, I haven't slammed doors (except for that one) or burned bridges behind me. I hope the people who love me can follow me through.
7. I Can Stab. This post on brother Mike's blog is sweeping my office. Whenever someone doesn't know how to do something, or something doesn't make sense, or there's too much silence, or someone needs to breathe, someone will say, "I can stab," or "I can burn." Or when someone a little bit not smart asks us how to pronounce something like the word "subtle," we tell them. And when they walk away, we say "I can talk." Maybe you have to be here, but in my world, it's funny as hell.
8. Mirror, Mirror on the Wall. When I was washing my hands in the loo earlier today, I surprised myself a little bit when I looked up and saw myself and my first thought wasn't "There's Maggie, the fat version." It was, "Wow, the hair turned out okay even with the humidity." Sure, part of it is the fact that I've taken off some of the weight. But part of it is because I am seeing myself differently these days. I'm not just seeing the flaws. I'm seeing the cool stuff, too. It's a nice change.
9. What Century is This? I need a Web cam. Yes, you heard me - I said need. I talked to Cindy and Ryan earlier this week on the computer, and I could see them, but they couldn't see me. Now, lots of times this is a good thing, since I'm on the computer usually post-gym, but still ... there are features of Web conferencing I can't enjoy without having a cam on my end. So I'm researching and deciding which one to get. I can learn!
10. I Feel Allright, Like the Morning I Am Golden. Hello Dave is playing Venetian Fest in Lake Geneva this year. I'm trying to talk Cute Brian into coming with me, because we've been talking about seeing them for three years! Hello Dave and the Refreshments (the earlier incarnation of Roger Clyne et al) were pretty much the soundtrack to EIU for Mike, Rae, Brian and our assortment of n'er-do-wells. I will see them at the Fest, even if I have to go alone!

Health and recovery

So tonight, before dropping off The Divorce Papers, I went to the gym. Because I like the gym ... and I really like what it's doing for this old body of mine.

Monday night is spinning class, taught by the inimitable Joe (who, incidentally, has the most beautiful arms.) Joe has a way of talking you through a class and making you work harder than you ever thought you could and enjoy every aching moment. Tonight, after class, as I was cleaning my bike (because I sweat like an athlete!) he came up to me and asked how I was enjoying spinning. I've only been coming for about 10 weeks now, so I'm still relatively "new."

I told him I really enjoyed it, that each week was a challenge, and that the calories burned are definitely a bonus. And then I told him that the most remarkable thing about challenging myself with the different cardio classes I'm taking is that the harder I work, the more time I spend just sorta burning below my anaerobic threshold, the quicker my heartrate returns to its resting state when I slow down. And he says to me ...

"It's amazing how quickly the heart can recover once its healthy."

Think about that for a second.

I started to tear up, standing there drenched in sweat and talking to someone I desperately wanted to see me not as a weak chick, but as an athlete. So I bit the inside of my cheek, thanked him for a great class, and hurried to the locker room.

My heart has recovered. My heart is healthy. My heart is strong.

Lub-dub.

How I spent my lunch hour

The front page of The Divorce Papers. Isn't it pretty?

This is my signature, notarized by my new best friend Filippo at my bank. But I can call him Fil.

Yes, it's true ... today I dealt with what will probably be the last errand of my marriage - I had my signature notarized on the Marital Settlement Agreement for Dissolution of Marriage. Settlement, my ass. It's just a document that says, yeah, we don't wanna be married any more. He took his crap (and a lot of really nice clothes and a bread machine and a car and an education) and I took my belongings (which, incidentally, are fewer than they were in the days B.C.) and we're done.

When it's actually final, I'll let you know. Although there is a distinct possibility you'll hear my shouts of elation wherever you are.

Even in India.

Unexpected joy

I started this weekend off on my pity pot.

Yes, that's right, I was having a "poor Maggie" moment that threatened to last all weekend long. This is the first weekend in a long time that didn't hold plans with people I love. This weekend stretched before me like a black hole of loneliness.

So I did what any red-blooded American spinstress would do: I cleaned my apartment and talked to the cats. Yeah, that got old. By Saturday morning, I was ready to break out. I hit the gym hard, with a full hour of Latin-inspired cardio, followed by a full hour of weightlifting (swear to God, I'm gonna get some muscle tone if it kills me. And it might!) followed by a session focused solely on my core - the abs, lower back, and booty.

Incidentally, have you noticed that my ass is where it belongs? I think I have been successful at defying gravity - yay, glutes!

Anyhoo, following the workout, I put on my bathing suit, grabbed my SPF 30 and my book, and found myself a recliner by the pool. I spent an hour or so there, thinking about how good I felt about myself after such a great workout. Then it was time to shower and hit the grocery store.

Stocked up on important stuff, like beer and Popsicles. And when I headed home, I checked my voicemail.

Two messages. Both from people I love. The weekend was not going to be lonely, after all.

I spent last evening with my friends Ken and Melissa. You remember Melis - she's the one who crashed the wedding? We love telling the story of how our friendship has lasted longer than the friendship with the girl who introduced us, or the wedding that brought us together in the first place. It was a great evening, hanging out at Ken's folks' place - cold beer, good friends, and cake. We were up until the wee hours, talking, catching up, laughing so hard it hurt.

And now, I'm on my way out the door to meet Sheila for coffee, because I love Sheila, and I love coffee. That should bump nicely into an evening of "dinner" with Patrick and Ed (which, roughly translated, means frozen pizza in the oven while I provide manual labor to unload the truck.)

So a weekend that started out as me, alone, ended up being me and an abundance of love. Who knew?

Haiku for a Saturday

My pity party
Is canceled for this weekend
Spontaneous fun!

Stuck

It's stuck in my head. I'm sharing the wealth.

Gonna find my baby, gonna hold her tight
gonna grab some Afternoon Delight
My motto's always been, when it's right, it's right
why wait until the middle of a cold dark night?

When everything's a little clearer in the light of day
And you know the night is always gonna be there anyway

Skyrockets in flight ... Afternoon Delight!

Ah, the Starland Vocal Band. Can you believe they beat Elvis Costello for the Best New Act Grammy in the mid-70s?