10 on Tuesday

1. If home is where the heart is, then my home is in Bonners Ferry, Idaho right now. That's where my friend Janie is right now, comforting her mother over the loss of her father. Janie's dad died last Friday, and as she describes him, he was "one of the greatest people I ever knew." My heart is where you are, Janie. Which is pretty much Canada.
2. Tomorrow night I get to see Roger Clyne & the Peacemakers! I am so excited! Tim, Dale, Candy and I are taking in the show together. I am looking forward to an evening of great music with great friends, and the promise of good Mexican food. Should be a good time!
3. I'm exhausted. Three hours of cardio on a Monday night is a lot. Especially when it causes the adrenaline and endorpins to course through my system, inhibiting my ability to sleep. Let's see, I've contorted and hustled my body for three hours straight, then practically inhaled a chicken sandwich, and now I'd like to sleep. Not a chance. Which explains the copious amounts of coffee I'm sucking down today.
4. Ever watched anyone belly dance and thought to yourself, "that looks easy"? It's not. As my instructor said, "You have to make a muscle strong so you can move it softly. You have to tone your body to make tiny, meaningful movements." My fanny and core muscles are really feeling the result of every one of those movements today. Ow ow ow WOW! Wait until I master that hip-roll-thingy; you'll be mesmerized.
5. My cats, or "The Boys" as I call them, are locked in my bedroom today while a couple of guys are replacing my windows. I hope they're coping okay. I hope they will forgive me for locking them away. I hope they'll fold my clothes and put them away!
6. Apple picking is scheduled for Saturday. I love the taste of apples fresh from the tree; I could eat my weight in them. But I won't. I will bake pies! Stay on my good side, and I'll share.
7. Mmmm ... food! Our department was treated to lunch today by one of our print vendors. I had delicious tilapia with this yummy rice, and then we had one of everything for dessert. Nope, not kidding, one of everything. I'm full. Like overflowing full.
8. I kinda hope both Kim Kardashian and Susan Lucci fall on their heads at some point during the current season of "Dancing with the Stars."
9. My dad is coming along really well with his therapy. Today he called to tell me that he'd done his exercises all by himself! He is remarkable. The smart money says in about three months, he'll be wanting the other knee replaced, too, if only because the nurses were so nice to him while he was in the hospital.
10. I miss having a fireplace. The last place Christopher and I shared had one, and it was honestly my favorite thing about that apartment. So if you have a fireplace and I come visit you this fall and winter (yes, Amber, this means you!) be prepared to keep the home fires burning!

What would Mom do?

So I spent Friday night and all day Saturday with Dad. Saturday afternoon was the Cubs/St. Louis game, and with the magic number of one, it was tough to tear me away from the television. We were watching the game on Fox, but listening on 720 a.m. to hear Pat Hughes call the game and Ron Santo suffer a near breakdown with each play. It's like listening to Shakespeare the way it was meant to be played.

As the clock nears 5, I'm in a quandary. Do I continue along my quest to be the dutiful daughter and accompany the family to church? (Yes, they go on Saturday night. Clears up Sundays for important things, like brunch.) Or do I stay home and watch the game?

These are the questions that haunt a Cubs fan, especially one who happens to be the daughter of Pat Bieritz, the most die-hard fan ever born. I thought to myself, WWMD?

And I came up with a solution. Thank God for a cell phone with an Internet connection! It's no iPhone, but I won't miss a play. So off we go.

Opening songs, prayer, welcome, it's all good ... I've got my trusty phone, so I'm following along. When it's the top of the ninth with two out, two of my sisters were looking over my shoulder to see what would happen. We were one out away from winning the NL Central. "We." As if I'm playing!

One.

Out.

Away.

The pastor began his message when my hero, Kerry Wood, took the mound. I'm sweating in my seat. My boys have a one-run lead, and I am praying it's enough to win it.

It's tough to follow on this tiny screen, giving me itty-bitty details. St. Louis puts in a pinch hitter, Aaron Miles. I don' t know him, but I'm really glad we're not facing Pujols again. Crack (I pretend to hear, since I'm reading the stats on my phone) goes the bat as Miles flies into straightaway center, caught by Jim Edmonds.

At this point, everyone but Jenn, Kathie and I are listening to the pastor. And it is at this quiet time in the service that I lose my senses and shout, "Cubs Win!"

Every head turns in my direction. I'm a visitor here, can't they cut me some slack? A few laughs, a few cheers, a lot of strange looks.

But I don't care. Mom would have done the same thing, if she'd had the technology to do so. But instead, I'm pretty sure she, Bill Veeck and Steve Goodman were cheering from their vantage point in the heavenly equivalent of the Cubby Bear, singing "Go, Cubs, Go" with all their hearts.

Baseball is timeless. A great game at Wrigley feels like church to me. I belong to the church of baseball, I suppose. With apologies to Annie Savoy, I don't think it's a coincidence that there are 108 beads in a Catholic rosary and there are 108 stitches in a baseball. And every day from April through September, I thank God for this game.

On to the post season!

A new sense of calm

Believe it or not, Kelly was the voice of reason.

She talked me down off my ledge, and I am now convinced that I do not, in fact, have to lose my mind this week. I can make it work until Wednesday, at which point I will either relocate the kitties, or ask a friend in the building to look after them. The workmen agreed to leave The Boys in one room and do the windows in the others, and then switch as needed. This will work. This allows me one less meltdown this week.

Whew.

Spent last night and all day today with my dad, brother and sisters. Actually my brother was out with his friends most of the day, believe it or not. Chrisann and John took him to Arlington Park, just a few miles from where I live, to the horse races. Yeah, my bro has more of a social life than I do! But I got to hang with the fam, and it was truly wonderful. I admit, it is hard to watch my dad go through the pain of healing from knee replacement surgery, but he is coming through like such a champ, and he looks wonderful! My dad is my hero, this combination of bulldog and teddy bear that simply cannot be denied. It was so awesome for all of us to be together, I miss them tonight.

My place feels a little empty. Why don't you come visit?

Overwhelmed

There's just a little too much going on in my life right now.

I'm spending the weekend with my dad, who had surgery a few weeks ago. I haven't seen him since then, so some quality time with Dad is really just what the doctor ordered.

Which would honestly be fine, except that the cats and I have to move in with my ex-mother-in-law on Sunday night. My landlord is putting new windows in the building, and I can't have the cats here while that's happening. That'll be a week-long project, and rather than board them, we're both going somewhere where we can find a lil love.

So I'll be enjoying an 80-mile roundtrip to and from work each day, which ... well, I'm poor anyway. Gas next week is gonna kill me, but this is what you do for your critters, right? That is, if they every forgive me for taking them for an R-I-D-E.

Which would be all well and good, were it not for the fact that next Wednesday is the Roger Clyne concert, and I have been looking forward to Wednesday - Saturday in Wisconsin for a few weeks. Roger, then tamale fest at Dale's, then apple picking on Saturday. So thank heaven for Marge (the M.I.L.) for taking care of The Boys for me while I have my weekend away.

I hope we all get through the next 10 days relatively unscathed. I'll keep you posted.

Ten on Tuesday

1. I am really, really tired. Two hours of cardio is a lot for a Monday night, but that's what happens when the best Spin instructor and the best Salsa instructor teach on the same night. At least I have good friends to sweat with! But right now, in the middle of a sunny Tuesday, I can feel myself doing the head-bob thing. Not cool. At least not while I'm at work. But I'll make it ... and then I'll drive to the gym and lift weights tonight, because somewhere deep down there is a fit person just dying to claw her way out.
2. Speaking of working out, Joe, the unspeakably hunky spin instructor, seems to think I'm capable of working harder than I was working last night. There's sprinting, and then there's sprinting. I thought my quads were gonna cry!
3. I went grocery shopping last night after the gym. I buy weird shit when I've just been surrounded by visions of health! I have all sorts of real, fresh food, with nary a frozen pizza in sight. Ah, the girl is learning.
4. I have had tons of love over the last week! I got to talk to Kaylee on the phone, hung out with the Rathundes on Saturday night, played cars with Kristofer, got to be both Mike and Rae's gratuitous free call via the AT&T network, collected hugs from my dancing buddies, (yes, they were sweaty; no, I didn't mind) and just pretty much let the happy love stuff find me. Makes for pretty good days in my world.
5. Eight days until Roger Clyne & the Peacemakers. Not that I'm excited or anything.
6. Why do we say "Brunch"? Why not "Lunchfast"? These are the questions that haunt me.
7. Is it time yet for flannel sheets? It's been awfully cold these last few nights. My two favorite nights of the year are the first night in the flannel, and the first night out of the flannel. There's just something about having a different fabric against the skin ... I dunno, it just makes me happy. But I don't usually go for the flannel before November. What's a girl to do?
8. I'm almost out of coffee from Cafe du Monde. That means Cute Brian is gonna have to take another road trip. This is the coffee I brew on those mornings when I would rather have a root canal than get out of bed. It makes almost it worth being awake. It would be perfect if I still kept the coffee maker next to the bed.
9. Josie the Wonder Cat may outlive me. She has this huge growth/tumor/thingy on her back, but it's almost like she doesn't notice it. As long as I feed her and cuddle her, she doesn't care. She will sit and purr and love me as long as I sit still. Doctor Judy says we can either spend a lot of money and operate and still probably not solve the problem, or we can watch and see how things progress and make sure she's not in pain. Since I am poor, we're going with option two. And honestly, Josie doesn't seem to mind at all.
10. Funny people are all over my life. Whether it's Jason poking fun at us over Trivial Pursuit, Mike gaving spelling problems, Dad asking if I need to do laundry because he knows laundry will always get me to visit him, or this guy I work with who calls me "dude," I am never far from my next laugh.

My weekend, by the numbers

It was fun when Mike did it. It was fun when Cindy did it. I'm doing it, whether you think it's fun or not.

100 - percent humidity it feels like in my world. I'm contemplating an ark. Everything in my apartment feels moist. (GOD, I hate that word!) Enough, already.

10 - days until Dale, Candy, Tim and I see Roger Clyne & the Peacemakers in Cudahy, WI. We got our tickets over the weekend. I really cannot wait. Cute Brian can't make it this time, but we're gonna try to suffer through without him.

1 - number of times a man has said, "Don't go. Please don't go" to me in the last three years. It happened last night, when I was ready to leave Game Night but Jason wasn't ready for me to go. It was flattering, even though he's married, to have a cute guy ask me not to leave. It felt good to have someone appreciate my company. It felt a little less so when the game was over and we all got ready to leave and I realized it wasn't that he didn't want me to leave; it was that he was parked behind me and just really did not want to move the car.

5 - dollars it cost to get into the Sprague Theater to see the film "Better the Devil," starring none other than our friend Tim Beringer. This little indie film was a great way to pass a rainy afternoon.

10 - grilled cheese sandwiches I made to feed our crowd. Seriously, I do make the best grilled cheese ever.

11 - time I finally got moving Saturday morning after whooping it up waaaaaay too much on Friday night. I have apologized to those I abused. Or bit.

2 - loads of laundry I did at Amber's house.

4 - cookies I ate for breakfast this morning.

6 - hours I have now procrastinated in an attempt to not clean my messy apartment. I think I'd better get to it now. Dammit.

My dancin' shoes

Back in July, my workout regimen suffered a blow like no other when the greatest instructor/trainer known to man left the gym. The amazing Sharon taught Hip Hop, but she taught me so much more than that. She taught me about loving myself, about reaching higher than you think you're capable, about the beauty of expression and about the community we create artistically together.

And tonight, for the first time in two months, we danced together again.

The old crew - well, most of us, anyway, converged on Push Fitness Studio in Schaumburg. John (who, by the way, is looking amazing!) Justice, Jessica, MaryAnn, Anna, Angel, sweet new Ian, and Paul were all there, and we literally danced our asses off. It was perfect. It was beautiful. It was so great to feel myself dancing again.

Not that I'm very good; I know I'm a white girl. But I have a blast. When we're all together, we really can't be stopped. We're there for the music, we're there for the fun, but most of all ... we're there for each other. We're this crazy cross-section of society - black, white, Hispanic, Asian, male, female, gay, straight, young, not so, great dancers, rhythmically challenged ... you name it, we've got it. But every Thursday night at 7 p.m., we're dancers, pure and simple. We are one unit, brought together to feel great and shake our collective groove things.

I am so thankful for this class, for the woman who creates it and for my fellow dancers who enjoy it with me.

5-6-7-8!

Ten on Tuesday

1. Here ends his career as a Rockette. Dad's knee surgery was last Wednesday, and he got sprung from the hospital on Saturday. He's tired, but happy to have the painkillers leave his system. When he falls asleep in the middle of a conversation, you know he's had a little too much of the happy drugs. Now it's therapy and TLC to get him back to normal ... or at least the way he used to be, only with a happier knee.
2. Important lesson that cannot be repeated enough: do not get married on your birthday. When you're "happy" with the guy you married, you're not special because he gets anniversary goodies on your birthday. And if it ends, well, your birthday has the potential to suck. Thankfully, mine did not. No, what sucked was the fact that he chose my birthday/our anniversary to e-mail me and ask for his brother's address. If you were looking for proof that I married a toad, there it is.
3. Birthday food tastes really good, especially when shared with wonderful friends. Tapas with Patrick and Ed, seafood with Amber, breakfast with Cute Brian ... it's the best! And remember: I celebrate all month long, so there are three more weeks of birthday goodness for us to share!
4. Sometimes, stuff just doesn't make sense. A woman I work with was shown the door last week. I admired her professionalism, graciousness and talents, and I may never understand what caused her departure. I miss her very much.
5. What's with the weather? Last Monday, it was in the 90s. Tonight, we're supposed to get down to 47. There's nothing like a 40-degree temperature drop to remind you you're in Chicagoland. I am not ready for sweaters and boots, but I think I'm gonna have to get ready really fast.
6. The birthday celebration continues this weekend. I'm going to Lake Geneva for karaoke Friday night, where Dale and I will celebrate our birthdays - we're a week apart. Then Saturday is Game Night at Chez Rathunde North, and we've been promised a good time. Wanna come along?
7. I've got moves you've never seen. Me, either. Last night I had a rocking-awesome night of workouts. Plural. At 5:30 I did spinning with Joe. He is just an amazing instructor, encouraging, kind and careful. The hour passes before you know it. Then, John, Jessica, Justice and I headed in for Salsa/Funk with Donna. WOW, what a workout! It was like an hour dancing with friends. Awesome ... truly, awesome. Then at 8, I unleashed my inner goddess and took Belly Dancing. My friend Linda loaned me a hip scarf (not a scarf that is hip, but a scarf that ties around your hips) and I had an absolute blast. The instructor, Kim, is amazing and encouraging and makes everyone feel like they are beautiful. I won't kid you - all that shimmying and shaking is hard work! But seriously big fun. By the time I took my heartrate monitor off at the end of the night, I had burned 1,438 calories. Not a bad night at the gym, eh?
8. I smell really good. Bath & Body Works has a new fragrance, Black Amethyst, and it's really quite lovely. A bit dramatic, a bit earthy, a whole lot me. You should smell it.
9. Never miss a good chance to shut up. I'm learning this every day. Sometimes, the thoughts in my head don't have to come out. Sometimes when they do come out, they're hurtful. A closed mouth gathers no foot.
10. People actually love me. No, really. I'm 42 years old and this is just starting to sink in. I am just beginning to accept it and not analyze why. It's tough sometimes, because as many of you know, I've battled the whole self-image thing my whole life. But really, who hasn't? Who among us can stand up and say "I have a great self-image, all the time"? That's what I thought. So I'm slowly coming to the conclusion that when people say things to me like "You're beautiful, inside and out--even down to your pinky toe," they (in this case, the amazing Racheal) are serious. And who could blame them, really. Have you seen my pinky toe?

Ten on Cindy on Sunday

This is Cindy. She is one of those people who so quickly became part of my life I didn't even realize it was happening. Today is her birthday, so today I give you: Ten on Cindy on Sunday.

1. While we were on vacation, she and I spent a bit of time at the beach one afternoon, just the two of us. When Charlie arrived, before he walked up to us, she looked at him, then looked at me and said, "I absolutely adore that man." It's obvious in the way she lives, but to hear it just made my heart sing.

2. That patented smile. Ryan has it. Tori has it. I'd bet the rent money JJ has it, too. You cannot be sad in the presence of the smile.

3. She loves me. It doesn't matter that, technically, I am not related to the Carlsons or the Rices. She loves me like family. There is something wonderful about being loved just because you showed up. This collection of people does it all the time, and I love being part of it.

4. Pie.

5. Her approach to her work is admirable and beautiful. You get the feeling that she doesn't work for the school, or the district. No, this woman works for the students. Every child should have a principal like her.

6. I spilled a full cup of coffee on the floor of her new convertible, and as long as I hadn't been burned or hurt, she was okay with it. Her priorities are so perfectly in line with her values - people before stuff - it can't help but make you feel special. And not in the Jerry's Kids way, either.

7. Her life has a soundtrack, as I've often described mine. The number of times we burst into song when we're together is uncanny. Sometimes I swear we must have known each other in a past life.

8. We have cool stuff in common - love of musicals and Rainier cherries, and complete devotion to the Mac operating system among them. Not to mention the people; we've got some pretty cool people in common, too. Even cooler than the Mac.

9. The deep understanding that one dozen donuts is not enough, and the lack of scolding those of us (okay, me) who didn't understand that until the theory was proven.

10. Just look at her face when she's with her grandbabies. You can see the love! It's beautiful, authentic, fun, real and a little bit overwhelming.

Happy Birthday, Cindy. May today be every bit as amazing as you are.

Flowers, flan and vino

It's been quite a day. First of all, I hate working on my birthday, but not as much as I hate burning a vacation day ... so, off to work I went. It wasn't the worst thing ever, actually. My non-friend Ryan (because we all know I do not make friends at work, right?) left the sweetest card on my desk. Only a 23-year-old pischer can say things like "Is that a wildfire or the candles on your cake?" and get away with it. It did, of course, earn him a whack upside the head.

Phone calls an e-mail from family and friends filled my morning, causing me to grin like a giddy 13-year-old. It's good to be loved!

Anyhoo, I made my famous guacamole to share with the work crew, and we all went out for lunch. When we returned to the office, I was notified of a package at the front desk. This is what was waiting for me.
Aren't they gorgeous? My CharlieDad and Wicked Step Mother sent them. they are so much more beautiful in person than in the picture; truly the camera phone does not do them justice. So they made me smile pretty much all afternoon. I'm pretty easy like that, I guess.

After work the phone calls started - people wanting to know what I was doing tonight, if I was coming to Wisconsin to celebrate, or if they could take me out on the town. But no, sorry, I had a very important date with two of my favorite men.

Patrick and Edwin drove out to Arlington Heights, and we enjoyed tapas for dinner at La Tasca. Holy crap was the food ever delicious. Only the company was better! We enjoyed patatas alioli, that amazing garlic-laden potato salad that just delights the taste buds, plus scallops and chicken and goat cheese and ... hell, I lost track, up until they brought my birthday flan.
I love flan. It almost hurt to share it, but I was a good birthday girl. One flan, three spoons. It would have been so romantic. Note to self: take a straight man for tapas someday.

Filled with good food, we headed back to my place, but stopped along the way at Big Shot for a cocktail and music. Wayne Richards was at the piano, and I think Patrick and I knew every song he played. My flight of red wine was terrific, especially the Australian Shiraz. Ya gotta love a kangaroo that can make wine.
And now it's becoming a relatively early ending to a splendid birthday. I'm off to the traditional birthday bubble bath before I turn in. Tomorrow will be just another day, until next September, when I'm another year older, another year wiser, and hopefully just as happy (if not moreso) than I am tonight.

Quiz

Where were you on this date, at this time, in 2001?

It's September 5, at 8:30 a.m. CST.

On September 5, 2001, at 9:30 EST, I was getting married.

A lot has changed in the last seven years, but from where I sit, every bit of that change has been for the better. Some things haven't changed - namely, the people who love and value me as a person are still there, steadfastly doing what they do, and making my life brighter. We've added some people to mix, and my life has blossomed because of them.

So now it's not 8:30 a.m. any more. That moment has come and gone, and I can let go of the memory of a walk down the aisle and a marriage destined to fail, and concentrate instead on what was happening 42 years ago today.

Yep, that's when Patricia Irene Weston Bieritz brought not one, but two babies into the world. And with the exception of the occasional bump in the road along the way, it's been a pretty damn good life so far.

I'm glad you're sharing it with me.

Shakespeare?

Tonight I hit the elliptical at the gym. It's been a long time since that was my primary mode of ass-whooping, so I welcomed a bit of company. Jessica, another former hip-hop junkie, joined me for the workout, and after 40 minutes on the elliptical we hopped on the bikes for 20 for an even hour of sweat and camaraderie.

The bikes at the gym are equipped with cable TV, so you can watch during your ride with the controls and stuff off to the side. So, like the good political junkies we are, we were watching coverage of the Republican National Convention. (Side note: Is it just me, or is it simply ludicrous to look at Republicans dressed in hockey jerseys? Have any of them ever even been to a hockey game? And didn't you love when the camera panned to a few of the African Americans there? "See, we have them too!")

Anyway, we're biking, and laughing, and I'm thanking sweet little baby Jesus that Jessica is, as she puts it, "A die-hard, tree-hugging liberal." I knew I liked that girl. Anyway, as the camera focused on yet another helmet-haired, red-and-blue-attired, God-fearing Republican housefrau clutching a handful of American flags, I just can't stand it any more. "See," I said, "we have the most flags. We're the most patriotic!!!"

To which Jessica says, "Well, he who has the most American flags wins. I think Shakespeare said that."

And I practically pee myself right there on the bike. So perfectly delivered, so deadpan, so very funny. I will never look at the Bard quite the same again.

Ten on Tuesday

1. Having the first day of the work-week on Tuesday just feels good.

2. But not as good as having three days off to spend with friends, family and lake water. Did you have any idea Lake Arlington was this beautiful? Yeah, us either.

Lake Arlington, home of paddleboats, kayaks and a guy with a guitar.

Our feet in the lake. Mine is the cute one.

3. Spending time with Clan Rice/Carlson/Bathje makes me miss those who weren't there even more than I did before. You know who you are; consider yourselves hugged. And if you're in this country, expect a hug in person before too long.

4. Long weekends allow plenty of time to get the apartment clean and have fun. Now if only I could convince the damn cat to pee in the litter box instead of hanging her catasstrophe over the side.

5. Peach cobbler is the official pie of Labor Day.

6. Knitting is contagious.

7. Letting Cindy loose in the 70 percent off aisle at Joann's is a dangerous move.

8. My dad is ready to get the knee surgery over and done with. As he puts it, "Getting hacked into can't hurt half as much as standing does now." You go, big fella.

9. My CharlieDad doesn't like it when I try to get through the dark times by myself. I promise next time I'm in a funk, I will call Jacksonville. And I love you so much for caring so deeply.

10. Cindy let me drive her convertible. With the top down. Can you say "highlight of my weekend"? I knew you could. It was all great and wonderful until I spilled my coffee. My full cup of coffee that had just been purchased at Dunkin' Donuts. Onto the floor on the driver's side. That caused me a minor panic attack, and yet Cindy, in her inimitable way, just rolls with it. Turns out, there's no use crying over spilled coffee. And now she has this great caffeine-laced aromatherapy, built right into her floormat.

11. (Bonus for the holiday.) Family is defined by relationships as much as by the blood that runs through our veins. I love love love my family.

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!