The next post...

.. so after I wrote the short post on Answers, I started another post called "I'm a bitch".  It is true.  Sometimes I can be...

It was a post, apparently, though in gestation, not quite ready yet to be born.

I'm not sure it is, yet, but I'll let my fingers give it a try, and if you're reading this, well, then, I guess I thought it was "good enough".  Hee hee...

Ever have a disagreement or a grumble with someone close to you - in this case, more generally, a friend - and just want to say "Fuck 'em... I'm done"?  Or more accurately and comprehensively, "I'm done with people..."?

Yeah. That.

Or, more fun, and probably more accurate, a series of grumbles with a series of people...

... and, that, unfortunately, is when you have to look in the mirror and ask / wonder if it is yourself.  If you are, indeed, a bitch. 

But let's face it.  None of us is perfect. We all have our bitchy moments.  And ideally, in our non-bitchy moments, we have shown something to others to suggest that our value is worth overlooking those moments of bitchiness.

There is a fine line between expecting everyone to accept you the way you are, and love you the way you are without having to change and bend yourself into being a pretzel to be accepted and loved, and then using that "People should love me the way I am" as a hammer or a bludgeon to entitle you to act like a bitch. 

There was someone I've met in the last six months - virtually - who very much had a huge chip on her shoulder, and basically felt that if someone else was worthy, they'd love them just the way that they were.  On the very first day she and I interacted, though, she went postal on me.  Then, later, apologized if she offended, and gosh, gees, she was getting her period, and by the way, why are you so sensitive?

I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, and didn't block her after that, although I was tempted and every warning in me said to run.  And sure enough, it happened again.  I wasn't as invested, and it didn't take me by surprise, and I was better able to stand my own ground and call her on her behavior.  "Gees, why are you so sensitive?" and "You attacked me".  Um, no, I merely disagreed with what you said.  I can do that, ideally, and you should be strong enough? secure enough? to understand that simply because I don't agree with everything you believe doesn't mean I am attacking you....

She was tiring, after a while... (Heck, who am I kidding? She was tiring immediately), and eventually, I moved on and blocked her. 

Next.

It is Twitter, after all.  There are definitely plenty of fish in the sea. 

This was several months ago, and it is easier and safer to talk about her and her behavior to illustrate these general principles than to look inward to see if I, now, am being the bitch.

And I probably am.  Now, before you get all supportive and wonderful and tell me how sweet I am below (which, well, go ahead, and do... I won't mind, I guess! ;) ).. you don't have to live with me day-to-day.  You don't have to deal with my irrational moments, which feel pretty damn rational to me, damnit.  You may see me stick my head in the sand, but as virtual strangers / friends you can just keep on walking and ignore me.  Those whom I have lured into the trap of friendship are not as easily able to ignore me. 

'Cuz I can whine. 

I can be grumpy.

I can be childish.

I can throw a damn good tantrum. 

I can get snippish, snappish, snarky, and sarcastic. 

I can be mean.

And, when I step back, I know that some of this behavior is no different than when done by a child.  I am seeking attention by any means necessary, and since the good attention may not seem to be flowing at the moment, I guess I seek bad attention, too. 

Great. 

No, I don't take crayons to walls.  I haven't done that since I was ten.  Besides, none of you have to live within my walls, anyway, so none of you would notice, and it wouldn't get any of that attention. 

But I do crave attention.  Oh, so much.

Okay.  So that isn't news.  And I'm not alone.  And wait, you want attention, too?

Oh, us humans. We can be so much fun, can't we?

All I want is for you to love me, notice me, care for me, nurture me... be with me... If you must, you can even call me George..

Is that so much to ask?

Yeah, that's what I was afraid of....

... apparently, that might be why I can be a bitch. 

P.S.  If you're here from the Bloggess, check out my post Welcome Lawsbians to learn a little about my tenuous connection to Jenny! ;)

Answers...

I have none. 

Interviews next week for candidates for the job opportunity, and a meeting that suggested that I'm not done with my contract, after all.  I knew there was more that could be done, but it's taken a LOT longer than any of us expected to get done what I have so far, and the original scope of time has now passed, and so I reasonably expected that they would thank me for my time and what I did manage to finish with it, and send me along my way.

It seems that they may not do that, after all, and we had a brief discussion about the next areas to tackle.  The assistant is going to talk to the owner and get back to me. 

So, who knows what happens next? Except I can feed myself for at least another week! ;)

Now... onto another post about a completely different topic...

Managing Expectations... or Don't Poke the Bear...

One of the ways I try to avoid disappointment is by managing my expectations.  My expectations, generally, in life are pretty low.  Holidays don't mean much to me.  Vacations are non-existent.  I keep my expectations low and then this leaves me room to be pleasantly surprised, instead, if things go better than expected.

But sometimes one can't help oneself.  One can't help but get excited by the possibility of something. 

And there's this job opportunity at the place where I've been contracting.  And the deadline for letters of interest was today.  And I have a meeting about my project with some of the key decision makers in the morning.  I've worked my butt off (or really my brain off) these last 40 some odd hours getting the project together in a pretty little package, and accepting "Good enough" and letting go that the project isn't EVERYTHING I hoped it would be.  That was emotionally exhausting. 

I am emotionally exhausted.  I also only slept four hours last night, and I'm pretty wide awake now and expecting just as few hours tonight. 

But there is a strong possibility that tomorrow I might hear news about the job. 

Now I've tried not to get my hopes up, but everyone I've talked to (and I've tried not to talk to too many people) seem to think I'm really perfect for the job and that the owner would be a fool not to hire me for it.  My hopes are up.  I literally spent the last year writing the book on this job - or on the department overall.  I am literally GIVING them this book tomorrow. 

It is not unreasonable that they might say, "Great, now that you've finished this, here is what we were hoping..." and offer me the job.  But it may not be the wisest thing to "expect". 

And I don't "expect" it exactly, but I am hoping that this is what happens.  And, perhaps, to be honest, a part of me does expect that this might happen.

Worst case scenario, though, is that they thank me for my work, send me along on my way, and tell me that they're promoting someone else into this open position.  And I go home and spend what little money I have left in savings on alcohol, and.. well, let's not go there.

But, it is a reasonable possibility or outcome from tomorrow, too.

So, I'm touchy-sensitive, and anxious.  Anything poking at the bear, er, poking fun at me right now, particularly the situation, is not welcome.

Because I am very, very afraid that I have gotten my expectations too high.  I have gone against my common sense.  But I had little to no control over it.  The timing seems fortuitous, because my project is coming to an end, and I am well qualified for the job.  It would be a significant opportunity for me not simply from a job perspective - although that will be good - but for a finally moving on to the next chapter and leaving this bloody-awful, hellish three-and a half years since my ex went loco behind.  I want SOOOOOOO much to move on from this state.  I have borne it as best I can, with as stiff an upper lip as I can.  I've lived with the uncertainty of whether I will be able to pay my rent the following month, or afford food.  I have gone without health care benefits because the cost of my insurance was better spent on food.  I have not bought myself anything new or special in years.  I sleep on ill-fitted sheets in a bed that was given to me as a gift. I live without television because I can't afford to make that commitment to cable.  I live with just the bare necessities, and I operate in survival mode. 

That's a pretty grim description of it all, and frankly, I hope I'm doing a little better than that.  But this is how it's felt, and it feels like this job, if I get it, is what I need to finally turn the corner.  It would be a stable income greater than what I've brought home lately, health benefits, dental benefits (a cap on one of my front teeth fell off two and a half years ago, and I couldn't afford to replace it, so my smile has been off), vision benefits - my glasses are over 10 years old and badly scratched.  Some stream of income with which I can finally negotiate with folks I owe money to that wouldn't be dismissed by bankruptcy.  A chance to FINALLY turn the corner.

All of that laying at the feet of this one job.  A lot of pressure.  A lot of expectation.  That's if I get it. 

I am excited - truly - about the possibility.  But my excitement also scares the hell out of me.

Because tomorrow they could tell me there is someone else.  And whether it's true or not, it will feel like my entire life is flushing back down the toilet.  Because I have put all of this hope and expectation on this one possibility.  Against all common sense.

So, yes, I will probably stay up all night, even though I'm exhausted.  Even though I'd rather sleep the next eight hours.  And any attempts to poke at me will be, unfortunately, poking at the bear.  Because for a long time, while I have tried to stay optimistic, I have been working to accept that these circumstances I have been in, living on the edge of survival emotionally and financially (although, believe me, I know it could be MUCH worse than it has been! I recognize how lucky I have been!!) may never change... and in this last week, I've destroyed all that work I have done in accepting where I am in my life with the hope of this one job. 

I have failed, miserably, at managing my expectations. 

Good enough...

Okay, so an hour ago I found out I have 48 hours until my "handoff" meeting. 

That seemed do-able.  Still does - don't know why I wrote in the past tense!

Put together a macro-punch list of what still needs to be done, and put together a schedule to try and get it done.  (Yoda on my shoulder (he's heavy, by the way) : NO! Try not! Do or do not! There is no try!)

And try and be reasonable and realistic and plan in breaks and other life events.  I cannot - and will not - spend the next forty-eight hours on this project.  (Forty-six now...)

I realize my biggest issue with this project is letting go, and recognizing when it is "good enough". 

"Good enough" is a really hard concept to accept.  There's always a tweak that can make it better.  Letting go, though, and recognizing that something or someone or some event or some whatever is good enough is really tough.  I want to be able to say I did my best, but "good enough" is rarely one's best.  So, I qualify and instead will say, "I did the best I could given the... " whatever comes next refers to limitations.  And even that, sometimes, is not true.  But I have to believe it, and I have to let go.

It is hard for me to realize, and easier for others to see for me, that sometimes my "good enough" is still much better than many people's "best"s and that is even more reason why I should be able to accept "good enough". 

You can see that I am still trying to convince myself. 

But this is an ongoing struggle on a much larger level.  It is a circular fight.  At some level, we have to give ourselves permission to be human, and to not be perfect, and to accept that we do, generally, do the best that we can given the circumstances.  We do this in parenting, we do this in our relationships with others, we do this at work, we do this in keeping commitments.  But sometimes we give ourselves too much permission to not bring our best to the table.  To not give our best.  To instead spread ourselves so thin, to create circumstances, where we have to accept "good enough". 

It is a double-edged sword "good enough".

I brought in Yoda above partly as a joke, but I think his comment addresses a broader issue.  Sometimes we need to just do.  There is no trying.  And sometimes, we need to change the circumstances that prevent us from doing.  In wanting to get the correct exact line, I googled it, and re-watched 44 seconds of the scene from which it comes.  In the scene from Empire Strikes Back where Yoda is instructing the young Jedi that he is what prevents himself from raising the X-wing fighter that has sunk into the morass,

"So certain are you? *sigh* Always with you what cannot be done.  Do you nothing that I say?" Luke tells him that moving stones around is one thing, that this huge thing is totally different. 

Yoda says, "No.  No different.  Only different in your mind. You must unlearn what you have learned."

And that's when Luke says he'll give it a try. 

What often keeps us from getting things done is ourselves.  Whether it is accepting actually good work as "good enough" or believing that the circumstances around us really prevent us from doing something the way we think it should or could be done. 

This is a rambling post, with some real potential in it for great thoughts.  But the current circumstance is that the time I allotted for a break is over.  So this will have to be "good enough" to provoke some thought from you and from me about how we approach getting done what we need to get done.  And how we let go of the things we have done. 

It's one big circle, and I am already dizzy thinking about it... ;)

 P.S.  Hit 5,000 hits last night.  Thanks all!  Keep reading! 

24 hours...

We've all seen the show (even if we haven't watched it) 24 where you can see how the world can be saved over and over again in just 24 hours.  A lot can happen in 24 hours.

And about 24 hours after I wrote that last post, a lot had happened.

First, the friend who I was afraid would gloat that she was right, most definitely did. 

Second - and maybe this wasn't immediately within the first 24 hours - the Love Boat episodes that I'd been watching on You Tube got pulled for copyright infringement.

Third, I forgot to clean my sink, already. 

But fourth, and I'm afraid to write too much at this point, a really promising possible job opportunity may have arisen at the place where I have been contracting. 

It is too soon to write too much.  At this point, it is an "internal" posting (that they let me respond to anyway) and folks have until this upcoming Thursday to respond.  But given that the owner of the company has expressed - in the past - an interest in hiring me, even though we couldn't figure out where - I am hopeful that this may end up being it...

Knock on wood.  Keep fingers crossed.  And we'll hope that this is what is best for me in this new and next chapter of my life.  If I don't get it, don't worry. I've perfected "Sour Grapes" mentality to understand that maybe it wasn't what was for the best for me. 

Either way.... I may not turn into a big blob of blubber after all.  Unfortunately, my sink may not get clean, either! ;)

A Plan?

A friend of mine asked me yesterday if I had a "plan" set for what I am going to do with myself after the contract ends.  A plan? I facetiously asked...? What? Doesn't she read this blog religiously?  I'm going to make sure my sink is clean before I go to bed at night.  Other than that, what kind of plan do I need?

Later, by Twitter, I mentioned how I felt like I was sitting around waiting for something great to happen.  And she chimed in how I shouldn't wait, I needed to out there and make it happen.  To which I gave a harvesting analogy and insisted I had planted seeds.  She believed me.

And I have... Don't get me wrong.

But she is poking at the bear issues I have concerns about myself.  Gently - or perhaps not so gently - making sure I won't devolve into a glob of blubber when the contract ends.  I think she's afraid I will sit at home all day in my bed watching re-runs of Love Boat that I recently discovered on You Tube (that song is IMPOSSIBLE to get out of your head, so I don't recommend it... But, oh, that Doc, he is so funny (NOT!)).  And her fears aren't entirely unjustified.  Although I'll probably also catch up on some of the bloggers I'm friends with on Twitter and now here.  And maybe find creative ways to enhance and improve my blog.  And maybe I'll start a doll head collection.  Okay, NOT to the last one.

And I won't be starting a Vision Board or likely a Pinterest account either, although I'm a little wary to say the last one because that pretty much is what I said about Twitter all this time, and we see what happened THERE!

But she's right.  I know she's right.  (Is there a way to block one single person from reading a single post?  I mean I don't need her to spend the rest of today, this week, lording it over me that I said that she was right, do I? No... I mean, she'd favorite the shit out of this post, and return to it every day just to see that I said she was right... Wait... that might help my statistics, though.... If you found this post from the right hand side, well.... you'll know that I already regret it! Kidding!)

I do need a plan to make sure I don't just burrow deeply into my bed and never emerge except for soccer and to get the church bulletin done.  Particularly because there's only another month to soccer, so that won't last too long. 

Do I have one? No.  Not entirely.  Not much at all.  Except a recognition that I want there to be some structure to my days.  Something in particular I accomplish each day.  Incremental work on other things.  I don't want to simply burrow into my bed (although it is nice and comfortable) and get lost.  That's the start of a plan, right?

In the meantime, though, it's early-ish in the morning and I need to hit the shower and get this project done first.  Right now, THAT's my plan.  Once that's done, I can concentrate on the other.  For now, that's my plan.  Okay?  Okay.

The Sign on My Wall

So I am a single person who lives alone and has no guests to her home. 

Think about that for a moment. 

If that was you, what would your house look like? 

The answer is simple.  It would be whatever, for the most part, you feel comfortable in.  Whatever level of cleanliness or or disarray where you felt comfortable.  This doesn't mean that the WHOLE house would be some place you'd feel comfortable, but certainly the places where you spent time would be. 

This may mean you've ended up restricting yourself to a single room to live in, despite having more space in which to live. 

It may not. 

But let's face it.  If no-one is there to see the dirty dishes, is it really imperative that you wash them?  Immediately, I mean.. I'm not talking about putting dirty dishes back in the cupboards or anything silly like that. 

And as a single gal, I'll admit there are some clothes that deserve a "special" load and therefore have remained at the bottom of the hamper for months.  Maybe even a year.  This was even more so when I didn't have a washer and dryer of my own which are recent additions to my household.  I wasn't spending $3.50 a load for just a few items I rarely wore (well, maybe that's because I didn't wash them, but, dog chasing tail ... ) when I had plenty of other suitable clothes TO wear. 

When I got the washer and dryer, I admit, I gathered all the loose laundry and pulled it all into the back room (which was the mud room/pantry/storage area, and now is also the laundry room) and did a considerable amount of it.  So now, instead of being at the bottom of my hamper (although there are a few items still in there, too) there are a few items still sitting in a pile on the floor in the - shall we call it - multipurpose room. 

Why make my bed if no-one is going to see it?

My point is (yes, I do have one or two, I think...) that it is easy when you are single and living alone in your own secluded environment to get lazy about the social niceties of housework that others who share their homes might take more seriously.  Plus, let's face it, I go through dishes much less quickly than a family of four...

For me, there have been a variety of factors that have led me to my standard of cleanliness.  The first is that my mother was never quite the steadfast housekeeper herself.  I remember her getting mad at me when I touched the credenza in the front hall and disturbed the perfectly uniform layer of dust. (I really wish I was kidding...)  I was only required to clean my room twice a year, and I strongly do NOT recommend this for any parents.  Help your kids learn how to clean their rooms and get into the habit of keeping things tidy.  It really isn't that hard.  When you're a kid.  An ounce of prevention, my friends. 

The second, I recognize fully, is that I do not have these habits developed.  And I can - and do - blame my ADD for this.  :)  And there are some areas of tidiness / cleanliness that I really do have some big ADD walls about (and I could expound on that but I'll spare you in this entry), but the reality is that there is a lot about my environment that I *am* capable of keeping up, maintaining, and tidying.  And for those areas, what often prevents me - lacking a sense of urgency or need - is simply habits. 

We'll use my car as an example.  At one point, I set it as a goal to make sure that when I came in the house every time, I'd make sure I emptied the car, leaving only the things that belonged in the car regularly in the car.  It wasn't too difficult - particularly if I did it every time because really there was only whatever I'd brought in the car.  Now mind you, getting that stuff past the living room floor is another issue, but really maintenance on a habit like that is fairly easy.  And it doesn't take that much extra time.

The other day I came home from Sam's Club (thank you all for joining me).  And I do admit that there was rain that I can use as an excuse, but the reality was that I was feeling lazy.  So I calculated what exactly did I *need* to bring in at that moment - what was perishable or wouldn't be happy later when the car heated up with the sun.  And what did I want to eat immediately!! ;) And I only brought in that.  The rice is still sitting in the back of the car.  Along with some spaghetti. 

Why? Why would I do that?  What was so important that I needed a few extra moments in my home that I couldn't take those moments to bring that stuff in?  I have no idea.  And I can't tell you that the spaghetti sauce that I *did* bring in has made it to the kitchen from the living room couch.  How hard is that? I have no idea. 

I am a BIG fan of FlyLady.  In theory.  But one of their main points is that you didn't get in this situation (they call it CHAOS - Can't Have Anyone Over Syndrome) overnight, and you're not going to get out of it overnight.  And they're about creating habits.  And making change incrementally.  They're quite wonderful, and I wonder if when they're done getting me getting my house together, if they'd get the rest of my life together, too?

Oh, wait, they will.  Because let's face it.  If you have what it takes to maintain the daily habits to keep your home in order, you have what it takes to maintain the daily habits to keep your life in order.

Or at least that's what I'm gambling on...

So my contract is coming to an end sometime after this week. All I know is this is my last full week. And I'm a little bit anxious.  I'm also in a surprisingly good and positive mood, and I'm not going to fight that.  I'm going to try and hold onto it and build it.  Positive begets positive, I hope.  :)

But one of the things I'm nervous about is losing one other area of structure.  Of needing to be so frugal I get stuck in the house doing nothing but watching television on the Internet because that costs me nothing more than the Internet connection I'm already paying.  (Who decided that the Internet is SOOOO important (well it is) that it has to be CAPITALIZED? Yes, I'm doing spell check.. Carry on...)   I am nervous that I might easily slip into a really bad depression, and sink even further than I have.

Guess what?  Good news! I don't want that. 

So, I plan intentionally on trying to put more structure in my day and in my life and in my household.  Even if it isn't "urgent", even if the world won't fall apart if that pan that is in my sink doesn't get washed tonight, I am going to begin setting new standards for my life.  Not inflexible ones, but new habits that are easy to maintain.  And slowly, but surely and incrementally, begin to pull myself out of this quicksand and get myself and my life and my household in order.

FlyLady's first step is to clean your sink every night.  It always seems silly to me, so even though I think steps two, and three and on are worthwhile, I always get lost on the sink.  Tonight, with a black sharpie and blue painter's masking tape, I created a sign I put above my light switch in my bedroom ('cuz when you're single and have no guests in your home you can decorate in classy ways like this) that says: "Before I go to bed at night, I will clean my sink!"

Ask me how it's going... help me stay accountable. ;)  Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a pan in my sink I need to go wash.

Really?

Okay, I admit, the searches that find me amuse me.  I get on here all set to write a serious post (which I hope I'll still do after this one) and go curiously, as I do obsessively, to the stats to see who has come and how they got here. 

Tonight what do I find?  "amish grannys with huge tits".  And now having typed this, I have ensured that the NEXT person seeking Amish grannies with huge tits will INDEED find me.  (BTW, if you just have, I am NOT an Amish grannie).

Just thought I'd let that tickle you as it did me... ;)

You may now resume whatever you were doing before...

Twitter is rarely boring...

... but if you've found my blog, you probably already know that.

Now, admittedly, some of the more, um, graphic pictures suit certain tastes.  And some of those can be amusing, too.  Some of those can cause you to hurl.. so be careful.

But that's not really where I was going.

No, in fact, I was going to Sam's Club to pick up reinforcements for the soccer concessions stand. 

And I took all of my Tweeps with me. 

God bless 'em.

They advised me AGAINST the 850 gumballs.  Towards baking supplies with which I have no idea what I would do.  They taste-tested Pumpkin Fudge with me.  Encouraged me to indeed get some good basic spoil-proof staples (including snacks!!) for burrowing in for the winter. 

Generally made me laugh while I wandered aimlessly through the club store by myself. 

Which was appreciated.  Except for concessions, I really haven't had much need as a single gal without two dogs and two cats and a house with plenty of room to store 620 rolls of toilet paper to go to warehouse club stores.  Before, when I had all of those things and a spouse to go with, we used to play "Price is Right" at the checkout to see who could get closest to the total without going over.  Before, I had someone to bounce off whether it really did make sense to get the 200 ounce bottle of something we used once every six months.  Not that she didn't egg me on a little.  But warehouse club stores are much more fun when you have someone with whom to share them, and the things you purchase.

So thank you, Tweeps.  For $60, I purchased many more meals to have in reserve as needed than I ever could at the grocery store.  I will not starve this winter. Maybe by spring, but not over the winter... ;)

(No nuts, though.. dykes don't like nuts.  That's why we're dykes.... Okay.. so that's not true, but it's fun to say!)

And, we're back full circle, again...

... as my friend Robin Sparkles reminded me after reading my last post "Today is the First Day...", what I really should have written instead of blah, blah, blah... was borg, borg, borg.  'Cuz that's how we got here folks.  Go back to the very first post and it will all make sense... Don't worry. I'm not done.  I'm just getting started!!

Today is the first day...

Blah, blah, blah...

Although it's fricking true.  Still, blah, blah, blah.

I am at another, shall we say, "transition point" in my life.  The part-time contract that was supposed to be somewhat short-term and that I managed to actually stretch out for a full year - much past it's expiration date - is not-so-surprisingly coming to an end.

In the bigger picture, I know this is a good thing. 

And I know my friends are stuck providing me all the good trite sayings I would say to them in the same situation.  "Today is the first day of the rest of your life", etc., etc.

And I feel their pain.  I know that there is NOTHING they could say to me - trite or otherwise - that would necessarily penetrate this bubble of concern that is surrounding me.

Now, I'm not on full blown panic or distress (yet).  But I'm not exactly happy, either.

I have several months before full blown panic or distress comes in (not that I won't have my moments, mind you). 

One of the problems I have is that some of my contracts are open ended, so it's not always possible to prepare ahead of time for another one, because it's not always clear with the first one is going to end.  It took me eight months between the last one and this one to have more than a two or three week gig, and those were eight long months.  I made a small amount of savings stretch quite far.  I was quite impressed with myself, frankly.

But my savings going into this round, though, are a little less impressive because I had some serious dental bills at the beginning of the year.  So I'm nervous.

I try to have faith.  God and I are having quite a few conversations lately.  He's the strong silent type.  He knows anything he might say I'd probably respond "blah, blah, blah" to, much as I have been doing to my friends. But I am trying to have faith that when this door closes, another one will open.  Or a window (although it's starting to get chillier...).

I also know job hunting before Christmas is not always easy.  I've got an extra month or so jump from prior years when I've found myself in this situation, but I know once mid-November hits, I just have to hold on until January.  And I'm hoping it doesn't come to that. 

The problem with these transition points, as I so politely call them, is that it also calls into question other "life choices".  Now this can be a good examination, or a not-so-good examination.  It is good and healthy, as a general rule, to make sure you stop and examine if you are in the place (literally, figuratively, metaphysically) that you want to be in your life, and when certain obligations that have been keeping you in those positions release, to confirm you are where you want to be.  Those are good examinations, because if you're going to make big changes in your life, these are good moments to make them.

The trouble is that the flip side of that can be a little bit like Alice's rabbit-hole.  And it doesn't take much to slip into full-on crisis and doubt that everything you've done to get yourself to this place and everything that you're doing is wrong.  And that you aren't supposed to be here, and .. well... you can already see how the cycle can swirl out of control quite quickly.

And I have spent a considerable amount of this summer beginning to wonder if this is the place I should be.  Wondering if despite how much I *do* like small town life, if this isn't still a bit too small for me - or perhaps, at least, not as diverse for me as I might want.  Surely there are small towns in the world with larger lesbian populations <*cough* Oregon *cough*>.   Of course even those that are nearby seem a little too political for my taste... (picky, picky, picky).  But in late June when my landlord told me I might have been better off if the Poltergeist tree had taken out my house, I have been wondering what I would do if it had.  Where would I go?  Would I stay here?

The problem, then, with grand sayings like "Today is the first day..." is that while it's meant to be optimistic and full of possibilities, is that it is just full of possibilities. And they swirl in front of someone with no direction like a tornado.  (And tornadoes are not good around here, because they bring down the BIG ASS TREE onto my house, and well...)

My friends are stuck in a hopeless situation.  I want feedback, I want *something* from them in response to my growing fear, and yet, I know, my response to anything they might offer me is "Blah, blah, blah..."  I'll have answers to refute any of their good suggestions (not that they won't stick in my craw and gestate even after I refute them) and that I will be quite stubborn and frustrating.  Which is why God stays silent.  He knows that actions speak louder than words.  Right, big guy? *wink* *wink* *nudge* *nudge*

"Do not cling to events of the past or dwell on what happened long ago.  Watch for the new thing I am going to do.  It is happening already - you can see it now!  I will make a road through the wilderness and give you streams of water there."  (Isaiah 43)

I have carried this in my wallet for three years. 

Today is the first day....

There is such a thing as too many pictures...

Alt. Title - Where are all the forty-something bloggers who happen to be lesbians? 

Surely I'm not the only one.

Just tapped into a cache of lesbian bloggers, and I admit, I have a headache.

Mostly because the last one I looked at was WAY too flooded with pictures.  It's good to know that we come in many shapes, sizes, piercings, tattooings, etc., (although not a lot of variety on age, there, but... ), but to post a blog where you write two or three sentences, and then post a picture that is not at ALL relevant to what you're writing about and then repeat, repeat, repeat, repeat, (repeat 40-50 times) gives ME a headache.  I'll speak for myself.

Now mind you, I don't post that many pictures.  I trust (pray, hope, beg) my words to engage you.

Seriously, I have a headache....

... and this most recent one only posted about once a month, but she talked about 18 different topics in a single post.  I guess she had a lot to catch up on.  So there's this pinball machine like shifting of topics flooded with pictures that are just there to be pictures of lesbians (again, good to know we come in every flavor...).

My limited advice to bloggers: 

1) If you illustrate your blog, don't over do it, and make sure the illustrations are relevant.  A picture may be worth 1000 words, but make sure those words have something to do with your point, your theme, your post.

2) Make sure your posts - for the most part - have a point, a theme, a purpose, a goal, a unifying principle.  It's okay to randomly ramble on occasion - Lord knows I probably do more than I realize - but think about whether what you're writing might be better as multiple posts, rather than a single post. 

That's it.  I'm done with my rant / ramble / advice-giving-while-done-with-a-headache-so-take-it-with-a-grain-of-salt post. 

Inane Blog Posts

Every once in awhile I happen to be one of the earliest responders to one of Jenny's blog entries.  This always results in a flood of traffic for people to check out what was my latest blog post. 

Unfortunately, typically, my latest blog post isn't always that exciting.  For example, my Twitter Jail Again post was short and sweet and basically a way to get the message out to folks at #wineparty last week that I was out of commission.  Like that girl who steps outside to vomit after drinking too much and you wonder where she went.  Well, sorta like that.  I've only gotten drunk enough to throw up once.  And that, after all, was in college, and not entirely my fault. 

I would be curious to hear how readers would describe my blog if they were mentioning it to a friend.  I think it is a combination of some heartfelt life lessons and experience and with quite a bit of humorous enjoyment of life as well.  There are, for example, shower posts - those posts that come to me in the shower and might be so silly as to explain how it is that I can determine whether or not I've shampooed (strawberry scented shampoo, btw).  There's the Sticks & Stones series that has actually stuck with me quite a bit, and I've returned to at various times when I'm upset. 

And then there's the #wineparty posts.

I am certain that many of my blogsphere / Twitter friends tune into my blog on Saturday mornings to find out the latest hijinks from #wineparty.  (Because I like to think *I'm* just THAT special!)  I mean "amish big boob sex "was one of the searches that tracked down my blog this week, and so the #wineparty hijinks draw lots of folks. 

The truth is that my two top sources of readers can all usually trace back to either Jenny or Kit.  Two wonderfully wonderfully impressive and enjoyable bloggers.  (And frankly, I think I found Kit through Jenny, soo... it all traces back to The Bloggess).

But really, I owe a debt of tremendous gratitude to Kit for the success of my blog, and for the amusing success of my #wineparty posts. 

Because #wineparty is her creation.  I just sacrificed myself and re-read the beginning of her blog to find her first post about #wineparty and confirmed it was also her first post about Twitter Jail (technically: The Sex is Good in Jail).  You're welcome.

If you read the post (which I highly recommend you do) she suggests it as a much more effective alternative to #FF (Follow Friday) - which I admit I suck at!  Good thing is I'm pretty good at #wineparty.  It's easy - get enough drunk people in one place and I seem pretty funny.  Check out the most recent comment to Seven Children by Eleven Daddies from earlier this morning for further proof.  ;)

Unfortunatley, I was exhausted last night and tried to sack out before #wineparty started - so no amusing stories today.  Of course I couldn't sleep, and briefly made an appearance afraid I was going to fall asleep at any moment, and, um, didn't.  One of my IRL friends even texted me at one point, but wanted to make sure she wasn't interrupting #wineparty.  I'm sure she's one of those regular Saturday morning viewers living her life vicariously through my Twitter experiences (NOT!). 

Anyway... in the shower this morning, I was thinking about how the most inane posts are the most "recent" whenever I comment to Jenny... and I was thinking about how you folks might be looking for your vicarious #wineparty fix (don't be lurkers, join the fun), and I was thinking about how it'd been a week and I'd written nothing.  At least nothing published here. 

And that, my friends, is what lead to this rambling post.  You're welcome.  Enjoy!