thoughts on st thomas: part one

1.  i love wedges.  i love wedge salads and i love wedge shoes.  more particularly for this trip i am loving my wedge shoes.  nothing is making me happier than navy wedges from payless with cute little bows over the toes.  ok.  the unlimited pool time may be making me happier.  ok.  sitting by the pool with b, in between his meetings, thinking of the craziest names possible for people, nothing makes me happier than that.

2.  st thomas is kinda eh.  the water is nice.  yes.  but the marriott we're staying at.  yikes.  pure and unadulterated yikes.  it's like it's been frozen in time for twenty years.  but not the kind of frozen in time where it still looks nice once thawed.  ok, so perhaps not frozen in time at all.  perhaps the sun has sucked out my ability to analogize.

3.  for reading material, and aside from crossword puzzle and sudoku books, i brought f scott fitzgerald.  this morning i leisurely read chapter one of great gatsby whilst sitting on our balcony.  i watched little waves ripple in the bay.  i watched boats buoy this way and that.  and i envisioned gatsby's trembling arms reaching for the little green light.  oh, and i felt like a huge dork.  did i forget to mention that part?  :)

4.  we have a whole 'nother week here.  and i will tell you that the hotel bed is pretty much like...oh i don't know.  remember, my analogies, not so much.  this bed makes our bed at home seem like a cloud straight outta heaven.  out.of.heaven.  which is good.  because our bed at home is long-term.  so, i guess if i had to pick a bed to be most comfortable, it would be the one i sleep in 98% of the time.  but c'mon marriott.  we're sleepin on bare springs here.

5.  my inner clock is messssssssed up.  the four hour time difference is like..what??  is it three in the afternoon or one in the morning.  no clue.

6.  watching olympic ice hockey whilst in st thomas...weird.

7.  i miss you guys.  i've been reading all of my favs (yes, you and you and you!  and you!!) on my phone.  so it makes it harder for comments.  but i promise i am reading and loving all y'all.  and will try to be better about commenting in my usual way  :)

poolside, this is emily b, over and out.  :)

p.s. not really poolside.  actually in my room.  so...deskside?  much less romantic...

i've been quiet

for reasons i will lay before you.  i'm thinking you'll deem them important reasons to have been so...shushed.

1. i've got a bad attitude (isn't there a song that goes like that?  or is that new attitude?  i think new.  yeah, mine was just bad.)  you know.  like, if you can't say something nice don't say anything at all.  so i haven't been saying much.

yesterday at work my sister got pissed because i told her to multi-task.  does a normal person get mad at such a thing?  my sister is what i've termed, 'a piece of work.'  ok, so i didn't term it.  but she really is.  a piece of work.  and gosh does she make me mad.  so today, all day, i wanted to say things like grow up.  and, for real?  and, it is technically impossible for the folders to file themselves.

but i did some serious lip-biting.  because i knew whatever i had to say would come from a place of feelings-that-have-been-building-our-whole-lives.  i knew whatever i said wouldn't come from the place i wanted it to.

2. we are going on a trip this friday.  we'll be gone nine days.  i am stresssssed.  when i am stressed (with all the extra s's of course) i run out of words.  or.  my words run out of my fingers all wrong.

i hate leaving my boys.  my furry boys, that is.  i won't have to leave my boy boy because we travel together.  like geese.  or lions.  with a loyalty only lions know...  but i miss the heck outta my furry boys whenever we're away.  i miss the one who waits for me in the bathroom doorway.  i miss the one who curls up around my hand until it sweats.  i always wish for our time away to move swiftly for them.  and i wish they understood me when i tell them we'll always come home.  oh, sigh.  those boys.  each of them a beat of my heart repeated over.  over.

3. i continue on my path, searching for motherhood.  this month has been my favorite so far, not because of a different outcome, because there isn't one, but because i felt light.  lighter than i'd felt all of last year.  (april, how are you feeling this month? i've been thinking of you!)  i don't think it changes anything.  this lightness.  except it changed me.  shedding worry like that.

4. i've spent every non-working hour attached to my boy.  for tv time.  for dinner time.  for crossword puzzle time.  and sleep time.  see, the work hours have been creeeeping by.  quite like molasses.  and the non-work hours flybysofastyoucanbarelyseethem.

unfair, right?


so, i am back.  well, as back as i can be after not really being away.  you know what i mean.  i really just missed you all.  i've been feeding off of your words to give me strength when my own words seemed thin.  weakish.


in other news, we had our trees trimmed last week.  this little guy hung from a low branch since we bought the home.  kinda came with it.  and i didn't take him down before the tree guys came.  and now...he's gone.  but the branch he was on remains.  how?  and i'm really honestly sad.  i'm looking to replace him...carry on his legacy...

 

on apologies: a mini-post

have you, dear reader, been sucked into the media funhouse that is this whole tiger woods debacle?  i have and i haven't.  i mean, i think it's weird that there have been like no pictures of him for 3 months or something.  (well, until one surfaced wherein he'd grown a beard.  also, just had a lot of trouble spelling beard.)  other than that, i just don't care.

is that weird?

"everyone's" saying they want an apology.  why should tiger woods apologize to anyone besides his wife?  his kids?  i'm sorry, but if you were stupid enough to sleep with tiger woods anytime in the last however many years, i'm pretty sure you knew exactly who he was and exactly who he was married too.  sorry, waitress-bartenders, he's not leaving his supermodel wife for you.  i mean, he will sleep with you.  but that's it.

so why should he apologize to them?

and his infidelities didn't affect me.  whether he cheats on his wife or not, i am indifferent.  i don't think it's right.  at all.   i can't say i don't like him less for it.  but why should he apologize to me?  what he did hurt his wife and family.  and himself.  that's it.

it hurt golf in general because he's so damn good.  and he's popular.  and he's got a name you can remember.  (who's fred couples?)  but he doesn't even owe golf an apology.  i mean, unless he was cheating in terms of his golf game.

i just don't like high-horses.  and i feel like the media is on the grandest high-horse of all time right now.
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dear tiger woods,

really?  you're an idiot.  yes, you are an amazing golfer, but leave the casanova-ing to single men.

sincerely, emily b.

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dear everyone who acts like this affects them,

tiger woods is a famous man.  but at the root of that he is just a man.  and he will have to answer to his family for his infidelity and idiocy.  (should we call it anything else?)  but you are no one and nothing to him as he is the same to you.  so grow up a bit.  and move on.  either watch him golf in the future or don't.  but don't act like this has any effect on your life.

sincerely, emily b.

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meeting adjourned.

what does it mean to be driven up a wall?

i admit that it's my phrase of choice when it comes to family.  for example, my mother is always driving me up some kind of wall or another.  but i can't visualize it.  like i'm cowering in the ceiling corner?  i dunno.  all i know is that it happens.  and it has all kinds of side-effects like...scowling, loud sighing, and eye-rolling.

good grief does that woman make me want to roll my eyes.

my mom is many things.  she is a fighter.  in a good way.  she is a hard worker.  she used to be quite the artist and reader and she even sang in a choir.  she has battled jra since she was three.  she has (probably) battled depression my whole life.  she raised both me and my sister all by herself.  and i was not an easy child.  and my sister is not an easy adult.  so...not the sunniest of lives my mom has led.

certainly not the easiest by any measure.

as of late (oh, who am i kidding??), i mean, forever, she has been a drama queen.  everything is a big deal.  everything might just be the worst possible scenario.  everything is worth three weeks of fretting.  it's exhausting.

like, sure i got a great deal on tree-trimming but is the guy gonna hack the trees back too far?  i don't know.  i'm considering it a learning experience.  it's like...if i'm not worried about it, why would you be?  i'm freakin 29!  and it's just trees!  lordy, lady, can't we just have a simple conversation??


she is also very needy.


earlier i mentioned stopping by target and was there anything i could get her?  perhaps i should have mentioned that i was just stopping by target and not planning a vacation stay.  because holy goodness did that woman come up with everything she could think of for me to get.


i wanted to say, look lady, i'm going to get noxema and that's it, but i didn't have the heart.  i still can't figure out how to say no to her and not feel terribly.


perhaps because she raised me.  even though i was a pain in the ass.


ugh.  seems what had gone around has come around.  just as they said it would..

patron saint of saturdays and checklists

 (another phone pic (albeit sideways)...)

i don't have much to say today except for how much i just freakin love you all.  today is consisting of yard work, laundry, bill-paying...you can see where this is going.  the sun is out.  the sky is bluuuuuue.  (the more u's the bluer it is.  fact.)

last night we watched a good percentage of the opening ceremonies.  what followed, as i slept, were some of the weirdest dreams ever.  one forced me to wake up and try my hardest to stay awake so that i wouldn't fall back into dreaming the same dream.  i'm finding it hard to not blame canada for this...  also, spoken word poetry or whatever it's called...i don't like it.  will you still like me?  i hope so...  i just can't get into someone acting like their words are so important that they need to dramatically read them to me.  do you know what i mean?

and it partly sounds like rapping.  and it's usually like a white guy doing it so...it doesn't quite jive.  (ya dig?  oh, i crack myself up..)  i don't know.  i love words.  mostly other people's words.  and sometimes my own words but only like years after i've written them.  and sometimes i read them and i'm like, did i seriously write this?  and how can i do that again?  but i would rather give up an important body part than get up on stage and act like my words are worth anyone's time.

tell me how you feel about this.  dramatic poetry readings.  i need opinions  :)

patron saint of mylar balloons and bubbly handwriting: post-edit

i never had a boyfriend in high school.  this may be the saddest fact of my life.  or it may just seem to have been the saddest fact of my life for four, formidable years.  (what does formidable mean?)  ok, no, formative.  i meant 'formative' years.  and there were four of them.  and sure i had friends and all of that.  but never the hand-holding.  is your heart broken yet?  *sigh*

every valentine's day they had balloon grams.  or candy grams.  or something grams and you could pay a buck and send your friend or more-than-friend said balloon, candy, something and it came with a colorful card and they'd interrupt class to deliver them.  four years of wanting someone to want to send me a balloon.  but isn't high school incredibly lonely in some ways?

i've been thinking about this all week, in response to ben's what's your take on valentine's day question.  it's probably much like my take on christmas in that it's more about making up for past disappointments than present need.  like...christmas always got screwed up when i was a kid.  my parents would fight or my dad would be weird or etc and the day would be a bust.  and valentine's day...most of my valentine's days have been spent alone wishing for a valentine.  some have been spent not alone, pre-ben, and wishing for a valentine that felt more like...the one.  that is possibly worse than being alone.  feeling alone.

so now i have a valentine each and every year.  and i kind of want to make the most of it.  because i know how it feels to be all kinds of alone.  and i am grateful every day that i don't feel that way anymore.

i hope you and you and you have a wonderful weekend whether it involves hearts or not.  i hope you have sunshine and marshmallows and pretty scenery.  if it so warrants, i hope you have a hand to hold.  even if it's your pet's little paw.  or your grandma's soft and wrinkly hand.  or your own.  sometimes you have to hold your own hand...

if we were in class, i'd drop little enveloped valentines into your shoeboxes.  you're tops.  bee mine.  i choo-choo-choose you.

xoxoxo

*card from hello lucky...seriously...i cannot stop laughing at that hotdog...

post-edit:
just after i wrote this, i went out to the car to begin my errand running for uj's birthday lunch.  and.  i looked across the street at my old high school and there were a group of guys and girls, in tuxes and red dresses, carrying pink white & red balloons, about to deliver them to someone's boyfriend and someone's girlfriend.  and i laughed a little bit.  and then i remembered the exact feeling of sitting in those carpeted classrooms.  attached desks&chairs.  i felt old and young all at the same time...

but what a coinkydink, right?

oh thursday, i could just kiss you!

 (through the windshield and over our rooftop...our tree that needs trimming, you'll find to the left.  our gutters that need cleaning so badly that they're growing plants, you'll find along the bottom.)

but couldn't you just kiss the air today?  muah and muah!  i am feeling more like myself these days which lends to a whole host of wonderfulness.  not feeling like oneself is...hard.  i especially use a lot of ellipses when i feel in such a state.  although i use them when i am not in such a state either.  so it isn't as telling as...

where am i going with this?

A.nywho.

we've been having perfectly terrific weather.  a little rain storm the other day.  sunshine today.  chilly air and puffy clouds.  flowers are bright and in blossom all over the place.  the logistics of how it is becoming spring already...blows my mind.

i've taken to photographing with my iphone.  not in a sell-outty way.  but just look at that picture above.  the blues are unreal.  almost like i planned it that way.  which i didn't.  because you and i both know i could not plan for such a happenstance.  (what does happenstance mean anyway?)

the past couple of days i've felt a bit manic.  if there could be something good that comes out of mania.  i have lots of energy.  feel good.  feel motivated.  which is a welcome change from wanting to sleep the day away and not do anything.  ever.  (also known as pms...and during ms) so i am really grateful for this right now.  these feelings.  this feeling more like myself.

how is your thursday?  and how are you feeling?  and how do you do?  :)

patron saint of cardwriters and chocolatiers

my dad used to make us valentines and slip them into our lunch boxes.  they'd always have rewordings of michael jackson songs and the like.  he would draw elaborate hearts.

the valentine's day before i met ben, my then-boyfriend told me, on valentine's day, he didn't know if he was in love with me anymore.  you know, he was sure he loved me.  he just didn't quite know what it felt like to be in love with me.  ouch.  (although in a now-funny twist of fate, i did get a romantic-y gift from a good friend of his who i was more-than-flirting with...no, it wasn't my shining moment of morality but...it sure took the sting off of my dying relationship.)

this past weekend b asked me, so what's your take on valentine's day?  it's the kind of question that seems to pre-answer the question if it were returned.  my take on valentine's day...

i said it was a good excuse to be romantic.  i said i could think of worse things in the world.  i said i don't ever need an expensive dinner or jewelry or flowers or chocolates.  (side note: never really liked just chocolate.  i know!)  i said what i would like, always and always, would be a card.  store-bought, handmade...i'm not picky.  but cards are my favorite.  they last forever.  they capture the emotions of a moment.

it helps that my handsome husb is probably the best cardwriter of. all. time.  he fills all the blank space with his own words and they are always...perfect.  i was rifling through my nightstand and found the stack of cards he's given me in the last almost-7 years.  i sat in the quiet of the morning and read them over again.  all of that love and sweetness washing over me.  renewing me.  i know i can always count on his words to do that for me.

so yeah, valentine's day is a commercialized mess.  if you let it be.  i'd much rather have a quiet day to ourselves.  maybe a picnic in the park.  a simple card-swap.  hand holding.  etc and etc.

just as long as there is no mention of not really knowing if one is in love with the other.

yikes.

picture from somewhere...i saw it on one of karey's posts...

dear february,

i kind of want to know who you think you are.  forcing yourself upon us, you short, napoleon-y month.  i dunno.  so far you have been a bear.  just a real pain.  and we've only just begun...

i've always liked you.  you aren't in like a lion or any of that stuff.  you're just small and quiet.  usually.  but this year you seem different.  you've weighed me down in eight short days.  left me feeling...tired.  last night i tried to shrug you off and did forty sit-ups.  i could have done forty more but i didn't.  you'd won again.

i wanted to call in sick today, but didn't.  i want to be excited about our trip at the end of this month to the tropics, but i can't.  i am all worry and pouting.  all stressful situations and no coping mechanisms.  february, have you drugged me?  i am just not myself...

if i were more like myself, i would buy bright tulips.  i would stare at them all day long and take digital macro pictures of them.  i would play with light.  i would smile.  i would be able to handle more than one thing at a time.  i would feel awake.  instead, i am reduced to a stick in the mud.

february, what are you trying to prove?  was my overwhelmingly positive january attitude just too much for you?  did i disgust you with my optimism?  you could have just said so...we could have talked this out.  i would have agreed to be a little less optimistic.  i can compromise just as well as the next person.

i even know how to pronounce your name correctly.  does this count for nothing?  shouldn't it cement our friendship?

oh, february...your silence causes me heartache.  speak to me.  love me once again...

*it's only a time and a face that you lose*

-stars

my first year of grad school was also my first year as a fiancee (my only year as a fiancee, in truth) was also my first year sharing a home with a boy.  i had a dreamy schedule that allowed a couple full work days as well as sleeping in, study time, and a pleasant class schedule.  oh how i long for that schedule these days...only without the need for study time or any sort of class schedule.  hm.  there were a couple mornings a week i would wake at my leisure, slowly, and i could scrape together whatever was due.  that's always been my style.  maybe that's why i still have school nightmares about showing up and something is due.  and i'd completely forgotten.  or i'd never known.  and it's stressful.  and all because i have never been one to prepare.  oh how i hate(d) essay writing...or is that what i'm doing now?

my first year of grad school i was taking a full load of classes, working, and planning our wedding.  there were times when it was dreamy.  times when i thought i'd lost my mind.  one time i took off my engagement ring and almost threw it at that man of mine because i was sick about arguing over our families.  sigh.  we have grown and changed a lot since then.  it's hard to be two people in a small space.  sometimes it really is.  i remember the first time we really got into an argument in our new little beach home and i felt stuck.  where could i go?  there was no more being able to drive across cities to be in our own rooms.  and yet, five years later, the handful of hours we get between work hours never seems enough.  our arguments are fewer.  less dramatic than to reduce us to ring-throwing.  an unhung towel doesn't seem as tragic as it did then.  a misplaced whatever warrants nothing.  at first the learning was hard.  now, i don't even notice it...

(today i so badly want to be home.  wearing pajamas and thick socks.  the heat humming on and off.  i know i appreciated my old schedule when it was new to me.  i know i did.  but it still seems like i'd taken it for granted.  to stroll into work at 12 and lunch and work and stroll home.  to have time for bike-rides mid-morning.  to lounge on the couch, sitting in the corner with a crossword puzzle and my cat boys nearby.  to gaze out the window through the bare tree branches at the gray sky.  rain is coming this weekend...)

in between our engagement and wedding, i think i endured the most challenging year of my life (to date).  a year holding so many transitions.  so many different lessons learned.  trying to somehow retain literary theory and make a home with someone just as stubborn as i was.  (am.)  trying to write essays without cringing while trying to find a venue both near the ocean and handicap accessible and with an outdoor area for our ceremony as well as a large reception area.  i gave up what i thought were dreams for a wedding covered in daisies and me in a simple dress with lace cap-sleeves.  i gave in to a sweetheart neckline and roses.  i was changing.

my first year of grad school...seems like a very long time ago...seems like a dream.  all of it.

sometimes it just takes a little something

to not take oneself too seriously.

to step back and be able to smile.

this week i'm tired and irritable (hl, that's one of those impossible-to-spell words for me!!) and easily annoyed.

i threatened my purse that i would burn it in a fire if it didn't cooperate.

my. purse.

oy.

such is life.  i believe it was the summer before 9th grade i got my first period.  (tmi?)  we're going on 16 years of this.  the first time i was so confused.  i mean, i was prepared for the gist of it.  but there is no video or pep talk that prepares an almost 14 year old girl for gut-wrenching pain.  literally.  gut-wrenching.  curled up in bed and crying gut-wrenching.  and it's been that way ever since.  well, of course i fast made friends with advil.  so that was that.

but riddle me this friends.  why is there no video that shows a seemingly normal and sweet woman threatening her purse's life because she can't get her ipod into its pocket?  because that is the reality, isn't it?  and that is when you need a little something extra.

so what is my something this month?

have you heard black eyed peas "imma be"?  it is a fun song.  i mean, really fun.  like i dare you not to dance.  dare.  BUT.  that isn't even really it.  it is, but it isn't.  because it gets better.  the beginning of the song goes like, "imma be, imma be, imma imma imma be, imma be, imma be, imma imma imma be..."  now, because i am lucky, i married a guy with the quickest wit around.  and, because you are lucky, he married a girl who writes about him.  i don't know if he gets any part of this lucky stuff...although i am known to do a mean load of laundry...

whoa.  let's bring this back around.

SO.  we download said song and b starts singing, "imma be, imma be, i'm a fuckin bumble bee"...

AND. IT'S. PERFECT.

perfect.

now, whenever i hear it, i imagine chubby little gangsta bumble bee's dancing and singing and partying.  and my heart could fly right out of my chest with pure exuberance.  (did you even think this post would encompass the world of pms and the word 'exuberance'?  i know...i didn't either...)

so, if this finds you in a questionable mood.  or even a delightful mood, i highly suggest this song.  and i highly suggest singing the alternate lyrics.  i can promise it will make you feel cooler than fergie   :)  (and maybe that can take each of us a teensy step closer to josh duhamel...worth it, no?)

<3

for all that i have not, for all that i have

i haven't got any fantastically witty pictures for you today.  i haven't even got any plain old pictures today.  just words.  my constant companions.  and here's the gist of them.  i don't quite know if i'm in a bad mood.  i think i am...  i keep having thoughts about how taylor swift winning album of the year seems like a joke since she can't sing live for the life of her.  or about how much some of my friends suck.  see?  you can clearly see why i think i'm in a bad mood...  as i got ready for work this morning, i knew i had to accomplish two things of utmost importance.  clean the litter box, for one.  and take some chicken out of the freezer to commence defrosting because darn it all if a good home-cooked meal doesn't sound freakin delicious.  and then i cleaned up the bathroom counter.  wiped it all down.  and it wasn't even on my two-item-list.  maybe it's magic?  for some reason, cleaning in the morning is so much easier than in the evening.  (who am i?!)  i even wished for some extra time to clean up the garage.  (did you hear that thud?  it was benny falling onto the floor.  because i never.  never.  want to clean the garage.  even when he begs.  and promises me a romantic date.  i always make a face.  a face of evil, really.)  but today, cleaning the garage would feel sooo good.  god it's a mess in there.  and i only went in there to get said frozen chicken.  do you think it's awesome that we have two fridges?  i do.  well, it kind of makes me feel like a grandma...don't grandma's always have two fridges?  so anyway, i go out there to get the chicken and...i see our christmas tree stand...atop boxes of decorations...atop...  and so, i know it's time.  time for a serious effort.  but i am afraid it might also be the kind of day where i have he-man (she-ra?) amounts of energy until just about 4:30p.  and then i'm exhausted.  and then i just curl up on the couch and zone out.  so, today, i guess i am praying for energy.  the lasting kind.  and patience.  and the ability to hold my tongue.  because with hateful thoughts about taylor swift, who knows what else i'm capable of today...

xo