Clean-Up Time

Lies I tell my son:

Son:  Mommy, where is my red racecar from my Happy Meal?

Me:  I have no idea.

Truth:  In the trashcan.

Tie match.

It’s December 31, and my favorite day of the year.  I’m sitting in bed this morning with a cup of hot black coffee, watching English Premier League on ESPN2.  It’s Man U and Blackpool, no Arsenal, and more’s the pity.  English football is an interest I acquired in 2011, having never been a big fan of US soccer.  In 2011 I also learned about Neil Gaiman, and am I ever happy about that.  I can really sink my fangs into his stuff.  (Blackpool just scored again, 0-2)  In 2011 I lost a lot of weight, rounding out my total weight loss (so far) to almost 45 pounds.  My knees don’t hurt and I haven’t had lower back pain in over a year.  In 2011 I signed final papers for child custody arrangements for my little Dude.  Time is the only answer to see how that decision pans out.  (Man U just made their presence known, 1-2) In 2011 I found my voice in my poetry, but my writing still moves at a snail’s pace.  Despite my ridiculously slow progress, I feel a tremendous sense of accomplishment in finally finding my writing style.  Only took 33 years.

Today is a day of anticipation.  Knowing you can cast aside the dirty bits of last year, hang on the the good bits and spend the new year polishing them ’til they gleam, taking on new projects and resolving to finish the old ones – well, it just makes me feel so…full.  It makes me feel full of something, not sure what, but most days I walk around feeling a distinct hole in my spirit, and on December 31, I don’t feel that way.

My favorite day of the year.

(Man U for the tie, 2-2)

How’s it Going?

It is KILLING ME to not add more movies to my queue.  I don’t know how I am going to last a whole year.  Why am I doing this to myself?  Am I some sort of crazy masochist?  It hasn’t even been 24 hours, for cryin’ out loud.

Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.  I think I may go shopping today to offset the pain.

Here’s my plan.  I think I’ll share everything I watch with you.  I’ll provide the title, genre, how many stars I rate it, and two sentences about the movie or show.  I will keep you up to date on TV shows I watch, but you won’t get a breakdown of it until I’ve watched every episode.  Unless there’s a really good episode that needs to be talked about.  Here’s what I did yesterday.  Don’t judge me.

Fish Without a Bicycle, comedy, 1/5 stars.  This was just awful.  There is nothing original to be found here.

Vampire Journals, horror, 1/5 stars.  The only thing scary about this movie is that I actually snorted from laughing so hard.  It’s actually pretty awesome in its campiness.

Raising Hope, TV show, S.1 E. 1-4

Coupling (U.K.), TV show, S.1 E. 3,4

Men Behaving Badly (U.K.), TV show, S.2 E.4

Yes – I watched all of this, and no, I have no regrets.  I had nothing else going on and I needed to have a day that just involved me, a cozy blanket, and my laptop.

Completely Out of Control

I sorted my Netflix instant queue yesterday afternoon.  Sorting by genre makes me feel like I am exerting some sort of control in an out of control world, like I have some power in my life and how I spend my afternoons on a paid holiday from work.  Never mind that it could be better spent helping the homeless, going for a walk in the glorious autumn weather, or writing that novel I keep talking about.  We all have our moments of glory, and my Netflix queue is mine.

Anyway, I have 333 films and shows in my queue, ranging from children’s films about Joseph to horror movies about bloody serial killers.  I feel this will be the year.  I’m going to watch them all.  I’m not going to add any films to my instant queue, I’m just going to watch what I have.  I wonder, is it possible to do this in one year?  I think I’ll give myself some wiggle room.  Instead of starting in January I’ll start right now, giving myself almost two extra months.

Did I ever give you an update on how I’ve been doing with reducing my stuff?  Well, it’s going great.  Things feel lighter, and I really enjoy buying something because I actually need it, not because I feel some borderline hoarder instinct to Have and Buy because I may Need It Later.  It feels good to trust that I will have the means to get what I need when I need it, and it’s helped me to better understand the difference between a need and a want.  Also, I joined Nerd Wars on Ravelry so I am using up lots of yarn and getting Christmas knitting done.  It’s a great feeling.

What I thought about…

Black Swan, or the Land of Allegory and Obvious Symbolism, as I will now be calling it for the rest of my life.

*** SPOILERS ***  In case, like me, you haven’t bothered to watch this movie which has, like, a thousand awards and was the most talked about film last year.  So I’m running a little behind on my pop culture.  It happens.

First of all, this movie was a total cliché.  The desperate ballerina, the choreographer who encourages her to find passion within because perfect dancing is terrible if there’s no passion.  Passion, of course, defined as having sex with him.  (Of course.)

Being greeted by the sound of popping cartilage, cracking bones, and grinding joints should not be listened to with earbuds.  I’m pretty sure I almost puked eight times, and I used to dance on pointe.  My toes and ankles still pop when I wake up in the morning and when I lay down at night.  For some reason I don’t think mine sound like that.

I do still love the score to Swan Lake.

Let’s talk about the scratches on her shoulder.  The mother clips her nails, scolds her, is in flat panic that no one knows about it.  Tells her to keep it covered with a shrug. (Allegory for masturbation?  Yup.  Especially when the ballerina tries to get off in the morning and the mother is sleeping in her room.)  This mother seems to have a problem with her daughter’s budding sexuality.  Could it be because she herself got knocked up by a randy choreographer?  (This movie is incredibly transparent.)

OH!  And she starts to sprout black feathers from that spot that look suspiciously like pubes.  Which she pulls out.  Ouch.

Will this girl ever have an orgasm?

Yup.  Administered by the sweet (or is she?  God, this movie is dull.) young Californian.  No wait, the Californian didn’t do that.  Or did she?  Oh no, the ballerina may be unstable.  Surprise!  Is the ballerina a closeted lesbian?  Yes, I think so, considering how she has been stealing Winona Ryder’s things for who knows how long.  How ironic.  Besides, considering that the movie is all about sexual repression what could be more repressed than a lesbian ballerina.  (Cluelessness, this movie has it.)

Ah, she is finally the Black Swan.  She pierced herself with a mirror to be able to own it.  You’re supposed to think she killed the Californian (alleged) giver-of-orgasms, but you are so much smarter than that, aren’t you?  (Penile penetration allegory?  Yup.)

And now she dies, bleeding out from her wound all over her white dress, after giving the performance of a lifetime.  That isn’t saying a whole lot, is it, considering it is the first time she has ever left the chorus.  (First menstruation allegory?  Yup.)

Ridiculously obvious symbolism.  So obvious that I couldn’t even enjoy the scary parts.  I mean, really.  Out played, overdone.  Didn’t really get into it because I was so busy breaking down and laughing at its weak attempts to be intelligent.

God, I’m awful at this.

It has been some time, hasn’t it?  I have logged 2 pretty good dates, two remarkably awful dates, lost another 5 pounds, and can now shop for jeans at normal stores.

I haven’t been writing.  I don’t just mean this blog, I mean I haven’t been writing anything.  I think I have writers’ block, but I’m not totally sure.  I get these ideas, and I think they could be good, so I jot them down, then when I try to work on them I write about 5 pages and there’s nothing more to say.  I think I should save all of them and perhaps the collection will make a really witty, unintentionally ironic novel when I’m famous enough to get away with that sort of shit.

Too much stuff.

I live in a pretty small space, all things considered.  Sure, it’s a three bedroom split level in No. Wilmington, but I share the majority of the space with my housemate and my son.  I only really have my bedroom for all my stuff.  Lately I’ve been thinking about some things that I would like to have.  New shorts, new tops for the summer, sandals, you get the idea.  But the problem is, where would I put it?  I already have trouble fitting everything into my dresser and my closet.  You know, I use two dresser drawers for stuff.  Extra cosmetics, soap, lotion, etc.  These are drawers I could be using for clothes.  I already keep my everyday cosmetics and hair goop on the dresser top anyway.  My closet has two full totes in it.  One is full of clothes.  I don’t know what clothes. Isn’t that crazy?  One is full of stuff…soaps, lotions, shampoos, band-aids…sensing a theme here?  I don’t know what is in my pantry.  I keep piling new stuff on the old and then forgetting what’s underneath. 

I need to get rid of some stuff.  My first plan of attack is to stop buying food until the food in my pantry is eaten.  Obvious exceptions will include milk, bread, fruit…things for the Dude’s lunchbox.  There’s no need for him to suffer if my experiment gets too weird.  Also, I am willing to replace an everyday item when it runs out, like seltzer water and salad.  I do think dinners will get interesting, though.  I’m kind of excited to try this out.

Saturday was a test run for the food.  I made a box of rotini and sauce, and we ate salad.  Next day we finished off the salad, and I layered the pasta and sauce with cheese in the sauce pan and baked it.  So, salad was eaten, rotini gone, sauce gone, most of the cheese gone.  This may just work out.

Next is clothes.  Anything in a 2x, size 16 or bigger, or irreparably stained or torn goes bye-bye, or is upcycled by yours truly.

Then yarn.  No yarn buying.  At all.  All yarn must be knit.  So saith I.

I’m not sure where this is going to lead me, but I have a feeling I will be so much happier once it’s done.  Some things will clear out quickly, like the food, while others will take a long time, like the yarn.  I have so much yarn.  Also, it will be a challenge to get the old sewing machine out and learn how to upgrade, resize, and repair my clothes.  I’m looking forward to that part.  I hope to keep you guys informed and post pics, but you know how I am with this blog.  I’ll do my best, I promise!

What have YOU been up to?

I can’t believe I’m almost done with the second semester of grad school.  I know I have a little time to get some ideas together about the future, but I have been tossing some things around.  I’m thinking of going for a job at the uni sooner than expected.  Perhaps get a start in admissions or student affairs.  Something to consider.  I also need to decide if I am going to focus my thesis on women’s studies or something else.  It may be a good idea for me to make an appointment with my advisor over winter semester to get more firmly grounded.

The Dude and I have had some great trips this fall, going to the Nanticoke Indian Pow-Wow, Linvilla Orchards, and a fun holiday festival in Millsboro where he got to make caramel apples, paint a pumpkin, and decorate a cupcake.

Knitting continues.  I’m making the Citron shawl from Knitty, a pair of generic socky-wockies, and a sweater for The Dude.  I’ve decided to do a self-imposed sock club this year, like the Yarn Harlot did last year.  IF I manage to stick to plan, I should have a pair of sock club socks on the needles each month, along with a travel pair of socks, and a big, focused project.  ROFLMAO.

I still don’t know how I feel about dating.  I decided that I should have 14 months off until I started seeing people again, and so far I think I’ve made the right decision, but damn, it’s lonely.  Every time I think I’m ready, though, another shoe falls in the breaking down of our marriage and family unit.  I’m beginning to wonder how many shoes my X owns.  I get so far along in The Process, then WHAM!  I find something out about him, something devastating, and I’m right back to anger.  When does it stop?  Should I be grateful that I am going through a trial by fire?  Does this mean that if I’m being forced to tackle the ugly stuff now that it will make me stronger in the long run?  Because right now I’m just bitter, sad, and angry at the idea of love in general.  And that basically takes me right out of the dating sphere.  And the vicious cycle continues.

Harumph.

Harumph.

Well.  This morning was interesting.  I was running late from the start, unfortunately also making my housemate late in the process…The Dude was upset about me leaving this morning…I said something really unnecessary to my mother-in-law, and she was already upset, so I felt like a heel…I was late to work…and I have a dentist appointment this afternoon.

Normally, I would just be bracing myself for the next awful thing to happen, but I don’t think it has to be that way anymore.  I think I will take this day by the balls and change things.  I think I can change the course of my day by moving forward in a positive direction with something.  So I called the X to arrange to meet and hopefully move in a good direction about the next few months custody arrangements.  I’m going about this in a cathartic, healing way, opening myself to the strength and love that the universe and God have been trying to give me for so long, that I have been pushing away because I wanted to be miserable.  I don’t want to be miserable anymore.

I create my destiny, one day at a time.

Amazing.

Over the past week something really interesting has been happening.  I smile in the morning, laugh when people try to get under my skin, have been eating good foods with gusto, and smoking less.  I am only a pound and a half from losing a total of twenty pounds.  I am in a great mood, practically skipping in the hallways at work.  There’s only one thing that could make a person feel this way.

I am seriously, head over heels, in LOVE.

I have started a raging love affair…with myself.  I have been singing myself love songs.  The other day I dedicated “Unchained Melody” to myself.  I hugged myself when I woke up this morning.  I feel pretty.  Better yet, I look five years younger.  I don’t know what happened, but something has definitely happened. 

Here are a couple visuals.  First you have a girl in a dark room, cell-like.  She’s crying and screaming for someone to help her.  Next shot: a door opens and light streams in, casting a silhouette in the doorway.  The girl doesn’t know what to think, so she’s scared, but so lonely she will cling to whoever it is standing in that doorway.  Finally, the figure steps through, and she realizes she is looking at herself.

So I guess it is a good thing that I have held off dating and sex.  I would have grabbed onto whoever had opened that door, when the person I really needed to be there was I.  My true self.  Now I can work on taking this scared, lonely girl and introducing her to the confident, funny, intelligent girl who was waiting all this time for an invitation.  Now I can make these two people into one, and find myself again.