Monday, July 30, 2007

Books and cleverness

Last week I started an online writing class through Gotham Writer's Workshop, which is based out of New York City. A friend at work recommended it to me and so far I'm really loving it. I've wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember but only recently have I actually thought seriously about pursuing it.

I am excited to do more with the creative side of my brain that doesn't really get any exercise at my day job, and at the same time I'm hoping to find the focus and discipline to be able to take my writing to the next level. Or least maybe it'll make me more smarter. And help me draw real pretty, too.

The one thing I've taken away from the class so far is how severely under-read I am. I read a lot, usually two and three books at once, and thought I was doing pretty well, but looking over the recommended reading list ... holy hell, I have not read very many of those. I intend to write my high school a strongly worded letter. It will start, "Dear Overprotective Christian Nazis, Just because a book contains swears it does not mean Jesus will cry if people read it". Yeah. I didn't read The Catcher in the Rye until I was 23. WTF, Lutheran High School Association?

Speaking of great books, I finally finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. It was incredible. A great finish to a great series. One I can't wait to share with my children. ... Even though there's *gasp* kissing in it.

Yeah, Jesus is crying right now just thinking about it.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

At least it wasn't a tattoo

When I was 17 I got my belly-button pierced. It was one of those I'll do it if you do it kind of situations with my high-school boyfriend (who's "do it" was just a little bit easier - he was only getting his ear pierced). I still remember having dinner with my parents after we got back, hoping they wouldn't notice how tall I was sitting in my chair as I tried to avoid contact between the new hole in my stomach and the top of my pants.

That was 10 years ago. Tonight, for the first time ever, I took the ring out.

Well, when I say "I", I mean Bryce. He used a pair of pliers to pry the ring apart and then remove it. My only contribution was to lay still on the bed, flat as a board, with my eyes squeezed shut, whimpering every time I felt the metal brush against me. I still can't believe I ever paid money to have someone stick a giant needle through my stomach. Or that after a decade, there was still a metal ring there (I'm such a chicken-shit).

I can honestly say that it would still be there if it weren't for the fact that tomorrow I have to have an MRI done on my knee. I went back to the orthopedic doctor today because my knee is still bothering me, and has actually gotten worse in the last few months since I stopped training for the marathon, to the point that it's almost always hurting me. He's concerned that I might have a tear in the cartilage surrounding my knee cap, better known as a meniscus tear. Which sounds super fun, doesn't it? Anyway, tomorrow I'll go have an image taken of it and then next week the doctor will read it and let me know whether I'll need to have surgery or not.

I'm hoping for not.

All of this knee business aside, I'm feeling better than I have in weeks. My husband continues to be simply amazing in ways that I could never possibly deserve, and I don't know what I would do without him. Tonight we ignored the rest of the world and had a wonderfully low-key evening, just the two of us. I made us a big pot of chili and we both curled up on the couch with our big, steaming bowls and watched Entourage. It was simply perfect.

And now, folks, I'm off to read Harry Potter.

Monday, July 23, 2007

The Crazies

I feel so trapped in my life right now.

I feel boxed in on all sides, suffocated, locked up. Even in my own house, where I have always felt content and settled, I feel completely claustrophobic. Nothing feels comfortable anymore. I can't relax.

I've gone through periods like this before, but never this bad. Usually there is at least something I can turn to that soothes my restless soul - music, cooking, a really good book - but nothing seems to be working right now. Nothing makes me feel happy or at ease.

I want to get out of here - leave my life for a few days and just get out of town. But at the same time I want to crawl into my bed, surrounded by my blankets and pillows and the smell of my own life, and sleep for days, enveloped in all of it.

I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin.

Monday, July 16, 2007


I guess when I pictured what marriage would look like, this is what I would see: I would picture the first few years being all broke but who cares, clipping coupons and trying to save money, spending nights out drinking draft beer specials with our friends. I pictured surprise movie dates, armed with flowers picked out of the garden. I pictured late nights up talking and laughing and making love - being all red-eyed for work the next morning, but not caring in the least. I pictured lying in bed on Sundays, reading the paper together over morning coffee. I pictured rushing home every day after work, so eager to share our day with each other. I pictured hand-holding and giggling and not-so-secret kisses in public. I pictured spending vacations in a little tent, cooking meals over the fire and having sex in the great outdoors - nothing fancy, just the two of us.

I pictured the comfort beginning to settle in, leaving us both secure and grounded in that way that being totally respected and loved can make you feel. I pictured having those secret looks we could toss at each other across a crowded room - looks that only we could read, jokes that only we knew the punchlines to.

I pictured trying for children - excitedly, anxiously. I pictured raising children - excitedly, anxiously. Taking family vacations up north and road trips out west to see the Grand Canyon and Yellowstone National Park, taking silly group photos in front of places like Mount St Helens.

I pictured watching them all leave, one by one, to college and jobs and marriages of their own. I pictured retiring, spending lazy afternoons reading and gardening and doing the crosswords together. I pictured large family dinners filled with warmth and comfort and love.

I pictured a life filled with joy and, yes, some tough times, but nothing that we couldn't handle together. Hand-in-hand, walking through life.

Friday, July 06, 2007

Oh, my aching ovaries

I was talking with Sarah this morning about babies (mostly that she wants me to have babies already so that she can steal them and spoil them with her Auntly affections). Part of me is definitely not ready yet - and too broke at the current time to even think about it.

But there's another part of me that can't wait to have a little baby with Bryce - someone with my nose and his beautiful blue eyes - a little part of both of us walking around in the world. I mean, how cool would that be?

They say you should only marry someone if you could imagine your kids turning out exactly like them and having that be okay. Thinking about that right now, today, I couldn't be more okay with that. I'm picturing a little boy, all arms and legs, a mop of blond hair, total goof-ball sense of humor, plays the drums on every conceivable surface, and absolutely the most adorable person through and through that I've ever known.

Yeah, I think that would be just fine by me.

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Mid-summer blues

My husband is watching House in the living room. It's still feels odd to type that - my husband. Can it really be that I have a husband?

I wish I was one of those people who could be happy happy happyeee - just floating through life on a cloud of happy all the time. I've had a little taste, the last month or so, of what it must be like to be one of those people. But the truth is, maybe I'll never be like that. Maybe I'll always have that little chip of sad planted deep inside of me.

It's nights like tonight, when all I want in the world is for B to sweep me up in his arms, like I am his most prized possession, and carry me to bed like he owns me. And to show me how glad he is that I own him. Forever and ever.

But out there he sits, watching tv. And in here I sit, spilling my thoughts to the empty masses, rather than to him. So it's almost like I'm choosing to be sad. Maybe I am. Or maybe I'm just built this way.

It's such a fine line these days.