new blog

Because Jenny is freakin genius, and because my neuroses know no bounds, I have a new blog.

If you are a reader or a lurker, please email me (or post a comment here) and I'll send you the url.

ok, maybe roaches aren't my biggest worry

Before scooping up the roach and taking it outside, I listened.

Apparently there's a stabbing nearly in progress. Not quite, but plenty of threats. "Put that knife away, man!"

Yeah, I just called the cops. Now I hear vehicles. Lots of voices. Some descalation. I just asked them to send a cruiser through to help with the situation. No need for a big arrival with lights and adrenaline - just cruise through and see what's up. And let's make it not obvious that I called, k?

The roach can stay right there until tomorrow morning. I may be getting desensitized to killing those with exoskeletons, but I'm not into the killing of people.

So, I hear them driving all away, no more voices. Here's hoping that they worked it all out and the moment has passed forever.

I may be that crazy teacher who jumps into fights between students, but I ain't jumping into a stabbing. I ain't that stupid, quite. I mean, I guess if I were out there and it came to me, of course I'd get involved. But I'm in here, and despite Herman telling me (when I explained about my home as my sanctuary should be roach free and I should feel 100% safe) that I shouldn't ever feel 100% safe, not even at home, I do feel pretty darn safe. And I'm going to get some chains to put on my doors. Just as another measure.

do they make holsters for Raid?

Because my aim is getting better, but the can isn't always at hand. I'm 2 for 2 though, baby. And I'm not in love with seeing them in their death throes, and I'm not in love with breathing all the poison in, but I'm getting over it. Shoes, I don't always get them. Raid - it's a gift from heaven.

Apparently there is some HUGE flashing neon sign at some aperture in my home, which cries out in full Vegas style, "Roaches enter here!" I heard batting at the window and then I saw the bugger - so apparently I need to do some weatherstripping tomorrow. Alone, since my Hot Honduran is departing - and finds other things more important than continuously weatherstripping for me.

Anyway, I'm sleeping with the freakin Raid already. Do not judge me. I'd take the Hot Honduran back to bed if he'd take away this recent carcass.

am I a horrible person

... if I don't exercise AGAIN today? It's been like three days, and my body just TOTALLY doesn't feel like it still. I have myself all amped up, and even have the clothes & shoes on, but my body hurts all over still. And I'm tired - I slept until like 9:30 this morning, which is SUPER late for me. Maybe I'll do a little yoga or something rather than 50 minutes "fat-burning" Pilates. But even, well, ANYTHING seems like TOO MUCH ENERGY. It's a lazy, very rainy Sunday. It just started coming down in buckets which makes me less than eager to drive over to Slidell, which is my only plan for the day.

I took a fake Trader Joe's brand Airborne and feel a little better, but still ... something is definitely off - no mind-body connection here.

Or am I just so lazy. I just want to curl up with a good book and a decaf latte.

What is WITH my body? It's totally not in-tune with all the things my MIND wants to do. What's up with that? Strange.

The Hot Honduran is way into fitness stuff - almost pathological about it. And yeah, he looks way good - hence, his nickname - but I don't want to be so weird about things like that.

So, I'll listen to the aches and pains in my body and be lazy another day. It's the sane thing to do - and how often can I call anything I do "sane"?

meatloaf and potatoes and berry crisp

After having now my third helping of the meatloaf and potatoes, I'm sort of self-congratulatory. So, don't want to forget to jot down my notes for later - Rebound Boy says it was perfect date food. But he's Mennonite and this is how he was raised, so I'd consider the background. Not what I would prepare for a Frenchman or a vegetarian, for example (though he warned me if I start up with vegetarians they'll all be Metrosexuals and less-than-satisfying ... and it was one of those moments when he wasn't completely full of shit).


"APPARENTLY I'VE BEEN LIVING TOO LONG IN NOLA" MEATLOAF
Saute the trinity (celery, onions, bell pepper - every Creole and Cajun dish starts like this, I'm told). Maybe 1/4 c. of each.
Toss in with the other stuff:
bread crumbs/oats (I put in one bread slice crumbed + 1/4 c. oats - I'd play with this - I think the oats make it less cohesive)
8 oz. can of tomato sauce
1 T. Worcestershire sauce
Tony Cachere's (sort of the NOLA answer to EVERYTHING)
pepper
thyme
oregano
garlic powder
1 egg
just over a pound of ground beef (if cooking for myself, I'd use turkey - but boys like beef, I'm told - and the protein is good for me)
(feel like I'm forgetting things ... will edit if necessary)
Bake 350 degrees about 65 minutes (in a loafpan)

"LOOKING INSIDE THE YAMASAKI SAUSAGE FACTORY" POTATOES
Boil some taters with whole cloves of garlic. 5 yellow (2 #) for two people is TOO MANY. I put in maybe 10 cloves of garlic and the taste was FANTASTIC. He said he couldn't taste it much, but that's because he's apparently taste-deprived - the garlic was SO STRONG but mellow simultaneously.
Mash. Add some butter, cream cheese (I'd probably replace this with sour cream ... didn't want to put in both, and I'm partial to sour cream), and milk to get it to right consistency.
Pepper

COMFORT FOOD BERRY CRISP
Fill an 8x8 pan with berries - I had a mix of raspberries, blackberries, and blueberries that I bought at Costco in Cali and that worked well - grew up using wild blueberries and that was freakin awesome.
Mix together:
1 c. oats
1/2 c. flour
1/2 c. butter (ouch - that's a ton of saturated fat! With meatloaf no less! My arteries are clogged! - I could have used Earth Balance and it'd be fine for me)
1/2 c. brown sugar

Put on top of the berries and kind of push it in at spots so there's a variety of texture in each bite - some more berry, some more crisp. And it's not really crisp - but I can never think of the best word. Not a crumble or a crunch or a cobbler. But way yummy. And best with ice cream. He missed the cue with the whipped cream can - sometimes I need to be explicit. But I think any accessories in my bed last night would have flipped me out even more, so it was good that he didn't bring it along. And, it's low calorie so I can continue to enjoy it alone. With fruit!

he's fine

Dayton just emailed. For anybody keeping track, it's been since beginning of May since I heard from him.

His timing is a little strange, eh? He says he just got back from his trip out to the boonies. But did he catch the vibe I was naked and fooling around with another guy?

Oh, and he's so very mad at me. Funny how he can turn that shit around like that. Good for me to see it and remind myself that he can be a self-centered dick and that's why I broke up with him.

I just wish that everything were different - I wish we were in the same place and could work stuff out. Or not. But at least we could talk face-to-face and spend lots of time together and all that. Instead we had to base an entire relationship upon one month and a few weekends, which is far too much strain. I still believe in most of heart that he's THE ONE for me (just as Dora must have a place in Avery's heart), but I'm not a saint. I need an active relationship, not memories and a maybe for the future. I never believed before in that whole soulmate nonsense ... soulmate friends, absolutely, but there's more than one ... but soulmate as in one person for me - never bought it. But then I fell in love with Dayton and the axis of my world shifted. I just really, really hope that I'm wrong about that - that I will someday (and the sooner the better!) find love again.

If I begged him now and promised to never complain again, we'd be back together. But what kind of life is that? I can never tell him how I feel? That's definitely a cultural thing, and it's taken me this long in my life to know how I feel, so I'm not going to stop. I'm not a harpie and I don't complain incessantly - but he hears it that way. A friend of mine, her husband recently told her she's not a good wife because when he came home after being gone a month, she asked him to sit with her because she missed him so much (I'm sure there's more that I don't remember, but that's the gist). Well, that's the gist for women - we hear ourselves saying, "I need you and want you," and men hear us saying something entirely different - about demanding and complaining. Not all women and not all men, of course. But enough for me to see a trend. (Oh goodness - now this blog entry is taking a turn to sound like last night's conversation. The Hot Honduran likes to make sweeping comments about "men" and "women" and I always feel compelled to point out that I rarely fit under the "women" category - which he says is the difference between speaking generally and specifically. And then he kinda makes up for it by reiterating that I'm a strong and resilient woman. I wish it weren't too weird to talk to him about Dayton - I could use his input because he's the only chauvinist I talk to. But he's way not into hearing about it - he'll talk rhetorically about future men I get involved with, but not past.)

ANYWAY, my point is ... these friends have been married 12 years and have three children together and this is STILL a problem. And he used to totally adore her and waited years to be with her. And STILL - when she expresses her emotional needs, he shuts down and becomes a dick. So, I am delusional to think that D would ever get better about that.

It just really, totally, completely breaks my heart. I feel like half a person without him. After three months considering myself not with him, and dating the hottest guy I find and click with, that sense of loss hasn't changed at all. If he knocked on my door right now I would be the most ecstatically happy person in the world ... but continuing to go through this long-distance crap? I can't do it.

But, I'm glad he's fine.

And I'm thinking it's time to start a new blog - I don't like this title. Any suggestions for a new title?

How about "World of Rebounding"? No ... because that's not the focus of my life really. Sometimes all I talk about, but it's not what keeps me going. NOLA Transplant? NOLA Pilgrim? Livinola? (Livin in NOLA ... hm, if I have to explain, then it's probably not good.) Decorative Wooden Brackets ... maybe that. That's what makes me so freakin happy in this town. Seriously - I look out my window and see them, and all is right with the world.

Rebound Boy just left

And let me just say that I have never missed Dayton more than I have over the past four hours.

For so many reasons. So many, many reasons.

It was all fine. But now I'm glad he's gone, and maybe I'll never see him again and that's fine too.

Maybe I'm just not ready for rebounding, and certainly not for any kind of relationship. If all I can think about is my ex? Not even close to ready. And I'm sure he know that, even though I only said something once (he was saying something stupid about his sister saying that if a woman asks a man if the food was good and he says yes then they're ready to get married - and I completely froze when he said that "m" word and I was like, dude, I just broke up with the love of my life that I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with - we don't say that stupid "m" word). (He was trying to say something nice about my cooking but it all came out wrong to me - he was trying to be a superb rebound boy and all that, but it just made me even more uptight.)

So either I'm not ready now, or I'll never be ready. Sigh. Here's the Hot Honduran, whom I've been lusting after for almost three months, and I have his complete and undivided attention, and all I can think about is how he's not as good in all ways? Oy.

So, there's my update. And Ahmed, if you're reading, can I bring you the leftover meatloaf tomorrow?

the things people say

Funniest thing said today, by Tiffany, when I told her I was a little worried that if my "Cancun" travel partner and I were both drinking heavily and sleeping in the same room, that what might seem like a great idea while in a drunken stupor would seem horrible the next day. She advised that I take cleaning supplies with me and attack the hotel bathrooms rather than doing anything really stupid.

Ah, cleaning supplies for a sexually frustrated Virgo? She's genius.

Oddest thing? The Hot Honduran called asking if he can come early. An hour early. That doesn't fit into the plan, and why would he do that? Is he doing what I do when visiting, blocking out two hour blocks? He is leaving the country in a couple days so could be quite busy - is he planning to spend 6:30-8:30 with me and then 8:30-10:30 with somebody else, and then the night with somebody else? That sounds like me, and something I would deserve. He called to be chatty and I was so not in the mood. Telling me about his day, and I waited for a break before I was like, "Dude! I am totally freaked out about a cockroach IN MY BED! Couldn't you at least acknowledge that?" "Well, there's nothing to be freaked out about-" "IN MY BED! IN MY FUCKING BED! Can't you just acknowledge that I am freaked out?" "Well-" "Never mind. We'll talk later. I have to go grab Carolyn to get a potato masher." So, he has warning how I am today.

Stupidest thing? No, it's not that I burn every single damn thing that I cook, including the almonds (that Ahmed gave me a few days ago) I was just attempting to brown to put in with the beans. (I'm using REAL BUTTER for everything. It's because I talked to Amy, and her butter usage is legendary and contagious.) No, it was when I was at the grocery store and made it about two aisles with somebody else's cart. "Excuse me, excuse me," I heard behind me. "Me or them?" We got it all straightened out, and then she had to chase me down to give me back the potatoes I'd put in her cart. Oy vey. She was unamused.

Seriously, this cutting calorie thing doesn't seem to be working for me. It just makes me, er, crazier than normal. I'm a total menace on the roads and in the grocery aisles, apparently. Maybe it's not that, but it does feel like a lack of protein - so I'll need to start amping up the protein consumption.

OK, back to slave over a hot stove rather than be leisurely because HIS schedule changed. Of course this also means that he'll probably be coming straight from tango, so looking sharp and sexually charged. I better go wash that burned pan and start again.

TAMI DO NOT READ

I'm not joking, Tami. Stop reading! You will never forgive me or even speak to me again if you read this, I fear.

****

I had a little trauma last night.

I woke up last night because something was brushing against me. I brushed it off, mostly still asleep, and something about the way it moved woke me fully up.

There was a cockroach in my bed and it was wanting to crawl all over me.

I've never moved out of my - or any - bed so fast. I stared at it, and it stared back. It had no fear, and it seemed to think it was tucking itself in for the night.

I looked around, but I have no shoes up there, and I'd already used the book Bayou Farewell to kill the wasp in my bed weeks ago and it was not successful. I needed something substantial. (Good book, by the way - just not solid enough for vermin elimination. In fact, I recommend that anybody reading this right now go read the linked review of Bayou Farewell instead of continuing with this stupid post.)

I went downstairs, shaking, and pulled out the Raid I'd just put away in my cleaning frenzy (thinking my life was going to be cockroach free, I'd put away all the weapons of roach destruction).

It was still on my bed, so I had to spray Raid all over the bed and pillows. Then it decided to scuttle away so I sprayed the hell out of its writhing poisoned body on the floor.

And then I stripped my bed, scrubbed myself clean, grabbed some clean sheets, and made up a bed on the couch downstairs. Where I woke up every little while to do a quick perimeter scan to feel safe.

Now, I KNOW that I'm being a drama queen here, but just let me be a drama queen. This is really, really disgusting. If it happened to me in Africa or South America, I wouldn't really sweat it - it would be a cultural experience and I'd take my response cue from locals. But this is my home, and the bed I planned on sleeping in for years to come. I'm not on a vacation in a tropical destination with circumstances out of my control. And the locals here, such as Tami, flip with far more vigor than I do about roaches. I think that I handled the reality of sanitizing all surfaces on a regular basis quite well, and of living with all my food in serious containers, and cleaning up every single thing immediately - I think I've handled this infestation fine. But in my bed? I draw the fucking line. Maybe I'll put up a bed net. It's just a pain in the ass and overkill - I have no mosquitoes inside.

So, when I talk about the wasp and the roach in my bed, I'm not talking about really bad dates that I brought home. I'm talking literally about a wasp and a roach. And I'm very unhappy about this.

So I texted the Hot Honduran. I wasn't going to blog about this because I actually WANT my friends to visit me and not be scared off by the vermin. But I have to talk about it. The Hot Honduran never got back to me. So I just texted him again saying, "Hello? I'm traumatized here." Still nothing.

And I'm sure that he thinks I'm being an extremely annoying girl, and if his attitude doesn't change to considerably more sympathetic then I'll be putting his meatloaf in a to-go container and kicking his sorry ass out the door. I'm willing to put up with a lot from him because it's not a relationship, and I think maybe I'll influence him positively as a hang-out buddy (seriously, he makes ME look like the one with the soft heart rather than the hard-ass). But I will NOT hang out with somebody who isn't sympathetic to my trauma, however stupid it may be. Not as a friend, and certainly not as a booty call. I don't even care if it's real sympathy or fake - I just need a show of it. Which he won't do, and now he's being stubborn about it, especially after yesterday when I told him he was being an ass. And I can be just as stubborn, and as badly as I need to get laid, it's not nearly bad enough that I will put up with anything less than perfection in a Rebound Boy. He thinks I want him and that's that - why do men always seem to think that? It's far more complicated than that. So, I'll give him a chance tonight but it looks like he may well blow it. And I'll end up being a crazy spinster - because lack of sex makes me crazy, and I have really unreasonable expectations for men. Which I know is my biggest problem, but seriously - why would I settle? Once I get really fully over Dayton, I'll be ok again with being single forever. Not just ok, but thrilled with it. It was just D that changed me. And yeah, it was a rough night because I knew exactly how D would have responded if he were there and it would have been perfect. And of course it's not fair to compare anyone to the memories of an ex, but when will I stop doing that as my first reaction to anything?

Now I will insert a metaphor I came up with that I've been wanting to use. When I was in high school my dad had a big pickup that I'd drive. It ran ok overall, but had a major problem shifting - frequently the clutch wouldn't work and it would get stuck in gear. (I clearly don't understand the mechanisms here, but I just know that I couldn't shift gears.) Then I'd have to pull it over to the side of the road (there was no road allowing over about 40 mph anyway, so it wasn't a big deal), pop the hood, and manually move the gear out of the notches. Then it would ride along ok for awhile, then get stuck again, and the process would repeat.

This is how I'm doing about Dayton. I'll be riding along doing just fine and then something will happen and suddenly I'm stuck in 2nd Dayton gear and my heart freezes up and whatever I'm doing in that moment becomes completely meaningless and he's all I can think about. And I have to do something to kick out of that gear, until I get stuck in it again. Clearly I need a new pickup.

So anyway, I'm way exhausted and grossed out, and haven't yet "mustered the guts" (HH would tell me to do that - he has before) to go clean up the roach death mess upstairs and start all the numerous loads of laundry I'm going to do to rid all traces of it.

And if the Hot Honduran doesn't end up in my bed tonight, I'm sleeping on the couch again probably. Some mighty powerful force will be required to overcome the bad roach juju up there. It was supposed to be my sanctuary, so I feel a little betrayed by the universe right now.

So, thanks to Jenny who was on-line last night when I was handling my trauma, for showing appropriate sympathy. And I will be happy to take anymore shows of sympathy for this calamitous trauma. Yes people (anybody who has made it this far deserves a medal anyway), just let me be a freakin drama queen today, please.

Dora, the Yamasaki Explorer

I just called Amy for her yummy garlic mashed potato recipe (it's like looking in the sausage factory when I ask the Yamasakis for recipes - things taste good because they're LOADED with fat and calories - no wonder I can gain 8 pounds in a weekend there!). She's down visiting Susan for the weekend with the boys. Wish I were there.

Anyway, they promised Avery many years ago that he could get a dog later. It was set that when Ashton became three and potty trained that they could look at dogs. So, when he reminded them of this, Amy set out looking for the dog for them - and found Dora. Isn't she a cutie?

There are still logistics to work out (such as getting Stephen on board), but it looks good that there will be a new puppy in the family.

Wow. Who of my friends ISN'T going through a major life-changing event now? Babies, puppies, marriages - the times, they are a-changing. Can't wait to get back over to Slidell for more baby time!

one less rebound boy

Hustla never just came out and said, "I don't want you dating my brother EJ," but her message couldn't be clearer.

Just now she told me that he left her hanging (wouldn't help her go get her car in Mississippi) because he's seeing three different women and he has to handle something with that.

Before, it was telling me that he sure does like to drink too much.

Either she's looking out for me or doesn't much like me.

Either way, I should probably listen to her. Because even if she's exaggerating, dating a promiscuous irresponsible man with a drinking problem - it's not what I need now. Or ever.

Sigh. Need to get out and increase the rebound boy ranks.

The Hot Honduran was kind of an ass today, so he's got some making up to do for that. IT was about work stuff and to my neighbor, but it still bugs me.

Neighbor came over and told me the whole scoop about the squeaky bed boy, and I approve. And we're the kind of neighbors where I don't really have to wear clothes, I guess. She knocked right as I had scrubbed two rooms, leaving me in the front room - and I don't usually clean with clothes on. So I grabbed just a jacket and explained the situation, not wanting to walk across the wet clean floors for a robe, and she came in for a long time talking to me mostly naked.

I also told Hot Honduran (not about the nakedness, but about the clean floors) and he avoided coming inside with muddy boots though I kind of need him to fix something inside (I wasn't here). I told him that if he remarked upon the clean floors, it would earn him points. "And hey, are you doing the yard work without your shirt on, like we decided before?" "No, but it wouldn't take me long at all to get out of it." "I'm on my way." "Um, there's another guy here helping me." Rats, foiled again. Hot Honduran, raining, manual labor, no shirt? That would make it a good day indeed.
Then again, the new guy may be even hotter. He has a hotter name and he's Mexican. And he has yet to be an ass because I've never met him directly. I wonder what he's been told about me - I guess I'll be able to tell based upon how quickly he runs away from me when I try to chat him up when we meet.

Still don't want to work. Blah.

not the only ho in this house

Last night I went to bed and couldn't figure out WHAT ON EARTH the sound was keeping me awake.

Bed springs.

I don't usually hear Neighbor's voice, and her music isn't too bad unless she's really blaring, but the floors carry sound - I can hear her dogs walking as if right next to me, and vacuuming and the like.

Apparently the bed movement is in that category. I'm hoping that something can be done - moving it further away or putting a rug under it or something. Because last night it sounded like two feet above my head. And I could totally laugh about it, but I won't feel that way once school starts.

And I just saw the guy - totally my type. Young, hot, athletic, muscular but not muscle-bound black man. Maybe there's a warehouse to order up my type? haha

So, I'm not quite sure how to broach this subject. I of course want details such as who he is and where she met him and if he has hot friends. And I want her to put a muzzle on the bed springs. But I don't want to be a nosy bitch. Hm. OK, I just emailed her, to avoid agonizing about it.

I MUST MUST MUST go to work today. Even though scrubbing every surface in the remaining three rooms to be cleaned sounds MUCH more satisfying. I'll give myself an hour to clean, and then I'm out the door. This is my only attempt at hard-to-get, since I think the Hot Honduran will be showing up here to do yardwork today if it doesn't rain. The last few conversations on the phone, our timing has been off. I've stopped being totally "on" and we're talking about three things simultaneously, which gets confusing (his work on my house, friend stuff, and fooling around stuff). I know that when we're hanging out again it'll be cool again - we totally click and now we've shared enough about ourselves to have lots to talk about. I just hate talking on the phone, particularly when it's my landlord's phone and the landlord is probably standing right there listening.

[Good - Neighbor just emailed back and was embarrassed but cool. I just want to know that she'll tell me if I'm too loud - my exercising indoors can be obnoxious, I'm sure - the jumping around.]

Parental Advisory

OK, ROMANTIC DINNERS. Anyone? Anyone? What do I serve?

How did I know that my message to Hot Honduran (asking if he wanted to come over to dinner Saturday evening) would be answered in the affirmative? Because seriously, what single man turns down FOOD prepared by someone in my particular state of ... I hate the word horniness, but it applies here oh too well. And he knows my state.

Right now he's only a mile away from me, calling as soon as he got back to town, and I said, "You know what, my mind's on other things. Could you call me tomorrow?" That my mind is on cleaning my apartment, he doesn't need to know that's more important than chatting with him. [I opened the door to dump the filthy floor wash water in the backyard, and huge cockroaches began to swarm me. Sigh. I'm a prisoner in my own house. Seriously - is it even possible to get rid of outside cockroaches so they go live somewhere else?]

He likes meat. I knew that. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO COOK MEAT. Seriously, I'm retarded about it. No chance I can do that.

The one thing he said he doesn't like? Spinach.

Spinach rivals only zucchini and sweet potatoes as being my FAVORITE FOOD. Last time I remember fretting about cooking a meal for a man (K2, for anybody keeping track), I made spinach lasagna and spinach salad. Seriously. I'm not joking. It's sort of my standby semi-romantic meal. I make a great spinach salad. I am thwarted.

We are so completely ill-suited for each other. In SO MANY WAYS. Yes, I know this. I know it well. I don't want a real relationship with him - I just want him Saturday night. He will hopefully quench my thirst, so to speak, and I will be done with him then - just in time for him to leave.

What I don't like? How my heartrate accelerated when I saw his phone number. (I deleted him the other day, but maybe I should reinput him.)

I just want to have a good time and feel good about myself and move forward with getting over shit. No entanglements, no drama, no complications. Just fun. I want to cook a nice dinner and enjoy his company, because we do have a good time together.

Hm. Meatloaf? I could make garlic mashed potatoes (YUM! I never allow myself potatoes because of their glycemic load) and bake sweet potatoes as well (there - getting in one of my favorites) and serve with a salad and maybe asparagus or broccoli or green beans or another steamed vegetable. That may be overkill with vegetables, but that's pretty much all I eat now that I'm feeling better. And then angel food cake (which I won't make from scratch because it's way too expensive to buy everything I'd need) with berries and whipped cream. In a can. I would usually always whip it up myself, but I'm kinda hoping the can gives him ideas.

Verdict? Anybody? Will that work?

AND WHAT THE HELL DO I WEAR? Joan isn't here to help! Where's The Committee when I need them?

I have the cleanest floors in this hemisphere

I'm not bragging. I'm just saying I spent the past hours on my knees with a washcloth and scrub brush. My hands are Pine-sol wrinkled, my knees are pounding with pain - but I have the cleanest floors in this hemisphere.

Take one part "holy shit there's a mouse in my house" and one part major sexual frustration and one part ovulating Virgo and one part "my job is so freaking boring - what else can I do all day" and one part "I want to do physical activity but exercise is so boring." And you too can have the cleanest floors in your area.

In my case, it desperately needed to be done - the previous tenant(s) had cleanliness standards different than mine. I've mopped the floors numerous times - but with a mop. I had to be putting some more elbow grease into it to get the job done right.

Now I have just three more rooms to clean tonight, and tomorrow I will be really able to go to work for real.

Once when he was here the Hot Honduran suggested that my apartment wasn't clean enough and that was causing my insomnia. Not that it's unclean or anything, but I was at that moment telling him not to judge me for not having all my travel gear packed away and for having dirty floors because there's boric acid everywhere and it doesn't work if it gets wet. He said (because he's a man, even if he is a Virgo) that he hadn't noticed but made above suggestion, which reminded me of a man I used to work with, also a Virgo, who couldn't sleep if ANYTHING in his house wasn't spotless and perfectly arranged. Now, I'm clearly not like that - but maybe it has had an impact on me.

Or I'm just so sexually frustrated that I can't sleep. I'll suggest that to him. If he EVER leaves freakin Natchitoches.

Which leads me to Tiffany's recent email, telling me she has to read my blog "after hours" so that her 7-year-olds aren't reading over her shoulder.

Hmmm ... should this be tattooed all over me and everything I do/write?

Notice to demolish

Pages and pages of these notices.


These started showing up a while ago, just a couple pages then. Notices to demolish.

It makes me wonder. Have they been abandoned? Are people waiting for Road Home funding to rebuild? Are they slumlords who cut their losses? Why only now after two years are they being dealt with? Will they really be demolished? Who does that - FEMA? What's the mechanism for contesting? Are certain (read: poor) areas targeted more than others? Are historical structures being destroyed? What will be the effect on the city overall?

Now, I'm all about "change is good" but here, not always.

my new crush

I have a huge ass crush on Timbaland. He would be a perfect next boyfriend - or somebody who looks just like him. Usually Jenny likes the "thick middle boys" and I like 'em lean, but Timbaland, well, I like him just the way he are.

I hate Natchitoches

I hate Natchitoches. Stupid spelling (pronounced NAK-a-tish), stupid lack of cell reception, stupid four hours away.

the cockroaches are gone ...

... because the mouse ate them. It just jumped out at me and scared the bejeezes out of me.

I love New Orleans, I love New Orleans, I love New Orleans.

It must be eating boric acid, because everything else is sealed up in containers.

Talia Zain

It didn't take long for me to cross that damn bridge to head over and meet my newest little friend: Talia Zain. She's ever so adorable. I was able to wait awhile, but it wasn't long before I was ripping her out of Tifany's (Tami's sister) arms to hold her for hours. "You're not leaving until Thursday," I reasoned.

I just about tried to take her home with me, but she reminded me that my breasts are deficient to her thinking. So, I'll be back to visit again. Nothing like that new baby smell.

Wow, so many people going through so many things - Gail & Shelton married, Tami & Ahmed with a new baby, and Lara & Sadie expecting twins in December. Life moves forward and how exciting!

Gail & Shelton got married!

Yay! It was so wonderful to be able to share Gail & Shelton's very special day with them!

Our day started with Lalo picking me up and Michele & Joan being moms and taking our "prom picture." (For anyone keeping track, Lalo has been my friend for many years, and he is so dear to me, and despite everyone saying this trip that we make such a cute couple, it's not that way and won't be that way.)


The wedding was lovely, and I loved that it was in Cantonese and English. The first minister was really funny and kept things moving along. Other highlights were the best man (who gave a great toast later) dropping the ring, and then Gail not being able to get Shelton's ring on him - having to work really hard at it. I was a little worried it would be so somber, but there was definitely laughter.

Then we had our group wedding shots taken, and I was in a group with her college friends so I also hijacked the group with the other teachers whom we all worked together with. It was so great to see George and Sharon and Lynda and others, and to meet spouses. My favorite George-ism was during the praying time, when the second minister was talking about the man being the head of the household, and George was shaking his head. (I always look around during prayer times for exactly this reason. George didn't even realize he was doing it, and his wife and I got a good laugh out of it.)



They had a fun ceremony with cake and yummy food (liked that sushi!), and then we took off to meet later at the banquet.

There was so much food at that banquet! We were probably served 30 different things - the food just kept coming and coming. Started with seaweed and jellyfish which was yum. Lalo had quite a challenge with the chopsticks. This fish was one of my faves - check out those teeth. :)




Then the wedding party went around and toasted with all the tables. Poor folks - I would have been exhausted by then! I'm standing beside Shelton's mother and Gail's mother here. Everybody looked so great!


So, I'm so glad I made it! Huge thanks to Michele for making it possible, and huge thanks to Shelton and Gail for being such great people and including me in their lives. And now they're off on their honeymoon ...

some friends I saw

I didn't get pics of everybody, especially not those who I was with just a month ago. But here are some highlights of my visiting.

First was seeing Rene, who really didn't want his picture taken and is protesting here and still talking with his hands which I find highly entertaining. Rene was my student the year before last, and now he's graduated and off to a wonderful future. Hopefully someday I don't feel like I need to keep showing up and kicking his ass to guarantee that wonderful future. Anytime we see each other, it's always heartbreaking to leave because I don't know if I'll ever see him again. Things happen. But the sweetest thing was when I gave him a new magnet with a saying (I think this one was about living life to the fullest) he promptly put it in his wallet next to the one I gave him last year, which he said inspired him to jump onto the field with Ronaldinho and almost get arrested. Maybe I'm not such a good influence.


Here are Aida and Selin, the Armenian and the Turk. Look, I can help bridge cultural differences that countries war over! Haha. This day Aida took us to a lovely multiuse development that her husband has developed, which was fascinating to see and hear about, and I enjoyed getting to know Ali. And when Selin brought me home, it was our one chance to catch up alone, and she talked so fast to get it all in that I couldn't hardly catch up. But the one thing I did catch is that I feel so really, really guilty for not being a better friend and not being available for her this past year or even past two years.


Baba John and Lily, Selin's nephew and daughter, are just about the cutest kids I've ever known. They are so incredibly sweet to each other. They were in the living room, both laying on the floor just talking away. And they shared and played together SO WELL and were so kind to each other. Love watching them. Baba John got me to dance and throw him around, so I got a little aerobic workout on my visit.

Um, wow, so I really didn't take many pics for all I did. But that's ok. Short blog posts.

ah, the lectures I received

First there was Aida, with "You deserve a man who treats you well! Do not settle! Do not put up with men who do not treat you like a queen!"



And Lena, who is such a mom, "Don't use expired condoms! Don't get anything that cannot be treated with antibiotics!"

hookah!

My last night in Cali we went out for hookah. Michele & I were hookah virgins - but no more. Unless you're required to inhale to have officially had hookah - because according to Michele, I totally hookah like a girl. Although all the other women in the place were sucking in that smoke great - just I was wimpy.








A lovely time was had by all ... and now Michele has a new habit!

And for those keeping track, no, the Mexislav did not earn a Rebound Boy t-shirt. I couldn't decide what turned me off most - trying to flirt with me by hitting me with a pillow, or saying he could so spoil me and did I want him to rub my feet. I was friendly but uninterested.

I slept alone. And I do not like satin sheets, I do not like them Sam I Am.

one last song for Dayton

[Warning - not for naive people who've never gone through a nasty breakup.]



Lyrics here.

Thanks to Michele for finding this perfect song for me. And to Lalo for his infinite wisdom, when I asked, "I just don't know the best way to get over Dayton. What do guys do? Do they screw all around?" "They do if they can."

I can do whatever I want now. Life is good. Fuck it.

Tami had the baby! And I'm in California

A girl! Talia! WOO HOO! I'm so excited for the Salems and can't wait to meet her!

I'm off to a busy schedule here in Cali. Chris picked me up and we had a lovely lunch where he tried to convert me ("How about if you become a Christian missionary? It's so much in line with who you are." "Because I'm very opposed to missionarization and I'm not Christian. Those little things.")

Then we braved SoCal traffic to get to Sabine's and Paul met us here shortly after. We had a lovely time stalking Eric Carle (think: The Very Hungry Caterpillar) and various other such activities.

Sorry no pics. After Paul laughed so hard he fell off the bed at the idea of us taking photos at Ikea I kept the camera in my suitcase. Not that he would really make fun of me - we were having an all about me day. Seriously, he would have catered to my every whim. Even wanted to. And every place we went, people assumed we were a couple.

I'm so in a dilemma about the rebounding. Maybe I need a man fast. Here I am, practically drenched in interested men, and I'm confused.

Oh well. There's no way this situation can work out any way but good. So, no complaints.

appetite is back

Darn it.

Going to Angeli's with Ayanna (coincidentally a fave haunt of Angelina & Brad when they're living in town - across the street) brought back food appreciation. Sigh. Starvation diet was nice while it lasted. And even though I went with the very healthiest thing I could find on the menu - chicken caesar whole wheat pita with no dressing, and I gave most of the pasta salad to Ay - it was still probably 1000 calories. And I ate it (half then, half later) and had some grumbles, but no serious pain.

Food there is very tasty - we both definitely approved. And it's not too expensive.

So, while we were both totally devastated that Bennachin wasn't open, we have a new place to add to our list.

maybe not so ready after all

I just took something out on Rebound Boy that was really about D.

Maybe I'm not ready to be around humans at all.

And he has no patience for that sort of thing.

Well, that's what being a rebound boy is all about. Being around as I'm practicing and using training wheels and getting shit wrong while I redefine who am I as ME, half of the unit former known as us. I'm thinking if he can't ride this, I'm revoking his license to rebound. We'll see.

I told him I'm not chasing him anymore. He likes the power of being chased. Of course if I'm honest about it, there was always mutual interest displayed - I didn't chase, not really. I told him I'm not playing stupid power games, and he's all about analyzing and retaining power. We are completely and totally ill-suited for each other, which makes him completely safe - I'd never want more. He's an objector FROM conscientious objection - meaning, he was raised in a peace church but would willingly go to war and has no problem with war. He's so ass-backwards about this shit - it's interesting to hear his thinking and to talk things through with him, but there's no way this could be a real relationship. Women shouldn't be ministers, he thinks, and homosexuality is wrong. Seriously, the shit he comes up with is whacked.

And it needs to be ALL FUN AND FEELING GOOD. If I'm not feeling that, then that's that and thanks for the memories.

And now, I forbid myself from thinking about him (much less talking about or to him) for the next five days.

And then the ball is in his court. Because I do, despite his insanity, like being around him - but I'm kinda fond of having my dignity, too.

Dwight

Dwight was not happy to be doing brake tag inspections on this very hot day, and he took it out on the people honking behind me.

If I'd know how bad Dwight's day was going, I would have gussied myself up for the brake tag. I would have put myself into flirt mode. Instead, I had to do a little impromptu which worked well enough to get me a babe and a smile.

Here's what I find on brake tags on-line (and what Dwight scolded me about):
"BRAKE TAG - An inspection sticker on your car, proof that you've passed the required annual safety inspection. It encompasses several areas of your car (e.g., horn, wipers, etc.) but is primarily concerned with the integrity of your brakes. Given the fact that New Orleans is surrounded by various lakes, rivers and canals, a bad set of brakes could mean that you might end up at the bottom of one of those bodies of water at the very least. Throughout New Orleans (although I'm not sure about other parts of Louisiana), the inspection sticker is called a "brake tag". If it's expired and you get pulled over, you're guaranteed to get a ticket. (Believe me, I know.)"

The reality is that it has NOTHING to do with brakes. Reverse lights, right and left turn signals, horn. That was it, plus $33 ($8 delinquent fee on the $25 fee). Yeah, because living in New Orleans without honking my horn ALL THE FREAKIN TIME definitely makes me stand out as a foreigner.

So, honestly, what looked like a crappy day beginning when Carolyn came to tell about the intent to tow signs all over my truck, ended up being better than it could have been. Dwight tells me it's like a $165 ticket for driving without a brake tag. So, I'm just way lucky I never got caught until today, and then there was no ticket on my truck. I'll just hope they don't tow it away later for yet something else I don't know about.

Yes, Tami did tell me about this when I first moved here, but I was CERTAIN that DMV would tell me what I needed to do. Dwight scoffs at me. I am scoffed and scolded, but I got off cheap.

helper demons

"Where you goin?" Cam [left] interrogated me.
"You sound like my daddy. You my daddy? My daddy be a lot taller than you!" I retorted. (Yes, I actually talk like this. I may not be exactly a good role model.)

I went to find my insurance card, which I need for the silly brake tag thing this afternoon. OF course I haven't printed out one since 2003, and I don't know why I thought I did.

Next thing I know, they're scampering into my truck, so I put 'em to work emptying out the back seat. Walking behind them as they carried the stuff, they were just too darn cute.

But they're little demons, too. They did not believe me that I didn't want them in my house. So as I said, "I gotta go inside now, and I'm closing the door with you on the outside," an old woman walked past with a cane. "How you doin?" I asked in my best NOLA.

She didn't buy that I'm a hardened local, and as soon as I closed the door I could hear her yelling at the boys. "She wants to go inside without y'alls asses and you need to stop pestering her and --"

What do you know - they're not on my porch waiting for my reappearance.

So, I'm not a yeller or a beater, but seriously, I love my neighborhood. (Cam's mother and I both just intervened in their harassing the neighbor's dogs - he now knows he doesn't have a chance of getting away with jack with me.) I'm just really not thrilled with the cops now, who have several streets blocked off all around while they're filming something. Really? I can't get to my house? Of course it wasn't a real problem - Ay was driving me home and I could walk a few blocks through their barrier, but WTF?

And now of course I can't get on-line to print out my insurance card. I'm feeling a little frustrated with my day. The Tangoing Mennonite said it's all a sign I should sit and meditate, but just because he's fasting doesn't make him my guru.

And, it's apparently raining men. I just got email from a guy back in Cali offering me a place to stay, a ride from the airport, whatever I want/need. And projecting a kindness upon me I don't possess. He had asked about D and I'd told him, and I'm thinking he's wanting to earn one of those Rebound Boy t-shirts as well. Maybe I'll buy 'em by the case.

Hmm. I think I'm complicating my life. Maybe I should be doing a man fast.

I love New Orleans, I love New Orleans

I gotta just keep telling myself this.

My truck just got marked as abandoned. WTF? And of course the number that I tried to call is disconnected, and I'm sure if I show up at the office they have listed that I will wait six hours for somebody to tell me it's the wrong office.

I leave tomorrow morning. When do I deal with this?

I may have gotten marked because I don't have a brake tag. Which I will take care of this afternoon. And I'll park at the airport while I'm gone, so hoping that hides me sufficiently from the arbitrary arm of the New Orleans law. Only 14% of murders in this city result in a conviction, but my truck gets marked as abandoned with no recourse? Sigh. I love New Orleans, I love New Orleans. I love New Orleans for its foibles and flaws, not in spite of them.

And the Tangoing Mennonite is fasting and low on energy, which messes up my rebound plans. WTF? Fasting? I guess that makes me seem not out of whack, to be eating my 800 calories a day. He works really hard all day long and he's not eating? Sigh. How's the boy supposed to have stamina? He asked when I'm coming back and I encouraged him to start eating before Monday after he said that he was going to fast as long as he could stand it. "I want you to have lots of energy," I said. Seriously. He wasn't expecting me to be ready so soon. Nor was I. But I've been mourning deeply and now I'm ready to lighten up a little bit until the next deep mourning bout hits.

Rats! Foiled again! Sigh. This is not my day. Even my landlord isn't returning my call.

song du jour

what to wear?

This is becoming my new obsession. I simply don't own enough clothes to meet all my needs! Or enough variety. Or something.

I think it's pretty amusing that this is hitting me NOW - after living in aesthetics-driven southern California for six years, only now in laid-back NOLA do I really care about how I present myself. I guess I'm just a slow learner.

What on earth am I wearing to the wedding? All the dresses that I have are a) too much like what I'd wear to be a teacher or b) too revealing or c) too informal & summery (which is basically the b) category as well). Maybe I'd wear one of the dresses in the b) categories to somebody else's wedding, but not Gail & Shelton's. I'm too afraid of her mom to be inappropriately attired. :) I do have this one dress that I'd planned to wear because I think it's a beautiful blue ... but I think it's too large. Far too large, really. Like Lalo and I would both fit inside it. (Of course Lalo is so thin - his email is "sexyflaco" after all - that several of him could fit inside all my clothes.)

Well, maybe I'll go try it on and convince myself that it's fine. It's not like I'm trying to hook up there, so it's ok if I'm wearing a flour sack. Unfortunately I don't have shoes to go with it ...

And what do I wear today for my various activities? And what do I wear during my visit to Cali? Good grief! I'm FAR too worried about all this!

What I really should be worried about is all the double-booking of my time that I've done. I'm trying to visit with about six different people per day. The thing that sucks is that I really like everybody I want to see and don't want to rush. I was actually relieved when Gomez told me he'd be out of town. I saw him last visit anyway.

Oh, and here's why Ayanna and I are such food friends - we're going today to the African place, and she warned me in advance that she might not get what she always gets. And I had a little panic, because we have a sharing routine, but she reassured me: "LOL - now you know I am a creature of habit and will likely wind up getting the peas, just I figured I better warn you just in case - but of course we'll share per routine:)" Especially since I can't eat much, eating a bite or two of everything she orders is perfect for me (my stomach feels good today, but I only ate 805 calories yesterday - the day before I couldn't sleep because of stomach pains from 980 calories ... seriously this is all VERY strange for me, and I will go to the doctor when I get back, just to be sure that I'm not going to harm myself). (I'm writing down everything I'm eating to see what trigger foods are ... the only one I see is maybe milk, which would please Tami.) I'm starting to wonder if this is irritable bowel syndrome or something such which was triggered by some Nica bug. Or food allergies. Either of those are ok - I can handle that, once I get a grip on what it is. I'm so enjoying not feeling hungry all the time and not craving sweets AT ALL. Thinking of chocolate makes me nauseous. Well, probably my time in Cali will cure whatever ails me.

updates

Gail and Shelton: getting married on Saturday! Woo hoo! Aren't they cute ??


Tami: STILL NO BABY! Due any moment. I keep harassing them to keep me updated. Dilated to 5 cm yesterday, and she was out walking to try to induce. She sounds pretty cool ... the only requirement is that it NOT be born when a MALE doctor is on call. Unacceptable, so will not happen. Bekher (their 6-year-old) informed her tonight that he doesn't like the name they chose long ago if it's a boy. She told him that she and daddy had chosen that name together. "But I like Max better. And you're the one having the baby, so why does daddy have a say in it at all?"

Former Student: Has a job and has applied to college, so I'm actually off teacher duty when I visit him and can just enjoy his company and meet his family (never met them before because he was in a foster home, but has moved into his mother's house now, which he proclaims "fucking weird"). He continues to mock my Spanish. Ah, I do miss the humility that comes with teaching teenagers. But mostly what I miss - still - is how he would come into my classroom every morning before school started and we would have a check-in. He would start every workday with telling me what was going on with political rallies for immigration issues and with soccer teams and his personal immigration status, etc. He would make fun of me for a variety of reasons, and he would remind me of the humanity of the students I was working with in that very inhumane school.

How blessed I am to have so many very interesting and diverse friends, whom I meet everywhere from work to airport lines to classes to housing to doing energy audits to volunteering to travel to fixing my weather stripping to friends of friends to childhood. I'm so very particular about my choice of friends, and I'm so fortunate. And what is always amazing to me - and how I know when they are real friends - is how it is to just pick up after a long time as if no time has passed.

"More Sex is Safer Sex"

This NY Times story makes my head spin.

My favorite line: "chastity pollutes the sexual environment by reducing the fraction of relatively safe partners in the dating pool."

It would be a sin for me not to rebound - I would be polluting the world.

too funny

today's best conversation

"Yeah, I'm having a hard time of it right now, thinking about my ex, and I'm having a really bad day. I know I'll heal, like you said, but it's really hard. Some of my friends say that the best way to get over somebody is to get under somebody else."

"That's what I was trying to help you with the other night."

"I know, I know."

"Just trying to be helpful."

"You saying you want to be my Rebound Boy? Help me out?"

"Oh yeah. I'm a helpful guy that way."

"I'll definitely be keeping that in mind."

*******
Just saw Music and Lyrics. Cute. I love Drew.
********
Just googled "rebound boy" and "t-shirt" ... and my blog came up more than once. That freaks me out. And good grief, I've been talking about this since May. It's freakin time to get it on already. Maybe Wednesday. It'll be like a vacation fling which has always been my style. I mean, it would be like a sin NOT to hook up. The universe has provided me with this attractive man who for whatever reason is attracted to me, and he's leaving town permanently on a perfect time schedule for me. I would be defying my dharma to disregard this beautiful opportunity for some nookie.
*********
My neighbor Angelina once again is filled with wisdom. I was remembering her answer to the question why she was so skinny, and she retorted that it had been a really bad year for her. It's not anorexia, stupid, it's her mother's death. Duh. Could my lack of appetite PERHAPS have something to do with losing the love of my life and not even knowing if he's alive or dead? Possibly. I've eaten 750 calories today and it's 8 pm ... I should probably eat something else. I'd like to make myself hit at least the 1000 calorie mark. But I'm just not hungry. I have no energy nor much desire to do anything more than sit crying on my couch.

I promised Former Student that I'd call him tomorrow, and that will be a good jolt. He's a caretaker and a worrier, so I won't breathe a word to him about how I'm feeling. He's such a Pisces, but he also always knows the right thing to say to give me perspective on things. I'll get jerked back into his world which is far more interesting than mine. And then I have Red Cross meetings on Wednesday, and I simply don't get to feel sorry myself at all then. And then I'll have a really great trip visiting great people in Cali (none of whom seem to email me back though!), and all my mourning will be put on a back burner again.

Neighbor just invited me to join her and "Clowns without Borders" people for dinner. Hm. Clowns? Food? Yeah, I think I'll stay here on my couch, thanks.

fire #2

I yawned and looked at the clock last night about 10:30 and thought, "What the heck. Why not go to bed now with a good book?"

I had just undressed when the phone rang.

Off we were to another fire. This time getting ready was so easy - just put the clothes back on that I'd just taken off.

This fire was more complicated - major damage to a FEMA trailer, several people affected, all pretty traumatized (some had JUST moved back from evacuation in Texas, and now this. My "Welcome Home" sounded pretty hollow). We had to do a ton of paperwork to get everything taken care of, and all this with all sorts of firefighters milling about (some smoking!) and then the fire inspector, well, inspecting.

When we stopped in the van beside the fire trucks, I turned to Jake and said, "I think I have a thing for fires now. I went out with a firefighter last night [the Tangoing Mennonite was a firefighter for many years], and now we're chasing fires all day, and I'll be standing in the glow of firetruck lights." Jake was very sensitive to my revelation - he's always sensitive. It's that good northern Midwest boy thing. I'm sure his girlfriend feels like she's caught herself quite a prize. And he is - he's very sweet, kind, patient, talks about his girlfriend all the time, etc. etc. - just volunteered the past two years and now hopes to go to medical school.

And I wonder why I've never been the slightest bit attracted to men like that. The Tangoing Mennonite has a theory (not about me in particular, but in general, because I throw off his theories quite a bit) about men needing to be MEN and leading and being in charge, etc. etc. and that's what women really want. I pointed out that I don't want to be led, but that I would only want to be with somebody at least as strong as me so that I don't bulldoze them.

But what is real strength? Hm. I'll have to think on that. I think that sometimes I confuse it with difficultness and stubbornness.

And I'm having kind of a hard time thinking these things through because it feels like I've really changed significantly in the past few years. In ways that I don't fully understand perhaps.

So, my little Nica malady appears to have lost me the 10 pounds I've gained in the past year (I blame the Yamasakis always for weight gain, but that's less than truthful). I am feeling much better now - living off applesauce and cottage cheese seemed to make my stomach flora restore properly, and the tequila the other night was a final medicine.

But after more than a week of consuming around 500 calories a day or so, eating is unappealing. I started writing down everything I eat, and I'm finding it hard to get up to 1000 calories, and I've been exercising every day.

This means of course that I feel tired all the time. But it also means I understand a little bit of the appeal of anorexia. It's hard to feel in control of my body when I'm ravenously hungry all the time (which is often the case, especially when studying much, and which I now understand is at least in part caused by my thyroid condition). I like having more control than that. Now I still eat when I'm hungry, but now it's applesauce or turkey or cottage cheese or odwalla bar (when rushing out the door to a fire). No real meals, and nothing over 200 calories at a time. I'm still afraid of the consequences of eating more than that - those sharp shooting stomach pains have me scared. I stop now at "not hungry" because any more and it could hurt. [I really noticed the difference in portion size when I went out; I ordered 1/2 the food and could only eat 1/2 of that.] And about the fatigue - well, I'm on vacation and while I should be working, I can sit around all the time and not do much. And of course the benefit of losing weight is great for me. When I listen to the doctor and don't go below 1500 calories/day - I really don't lose much because of my slow metabolism, even when exercising significantly. Neighbor said yesterday when she saw me, "You've lost a lot of weight!" She meant it like, "You're sick and need to go to the doctor," but I heard, "Great!"

Of course I fear that when I start eating "normally" again all this weight will come back on with a vengeance. And with my impending trip to Cali to see many food friends, this will undoubtedly be the case. Plus, this isn't sustainable because I'm not eating vegetables - that's too much for my stomach to take right now, and I'm waiting until Thursday when Chris picks me up at the airport and I get to enjoy a salad for the first time in forever with him. I'm taking vitamins, but I would love some spinach or zucchini.

I just would love to be able to connect my brain's hunger messages to my body's caloric needs - there's a major disconnect there. And it's not just psychological or learned, there's a physiological component for me because of the thyroid issues. Maybe it is just an issue of mind over matter - those times when I can't concentrate in class because I'm so extremely hungry - maybe I could rewire my brain to ignore that or understand it in a different way. Like my Nica malady being aversion therapy. You know, like the electric shocks delivered to a pedophile upon seeing naked kid pics; here, the serious stomach discomfort upon consumption of, well, anything maybe helped rewire the "food: good" sensors in my brain. Well, probably not really because it was only for a few days.

See, Susan and I have a bet about who can lose more weight before the next time we see each other. I'm worried about her predisposition to diabetes and other things, and I think she's worried about mine. I really miss her mom a lot. I think about her regularly.

And this no-energy laziness totally fits into the weather right now. It's been raining since the early morning, and I don't want to go out in it. I never know when there will be flooding, or lightning very near, etc. Of course I'm just being a big baby about it, but I'm enjoying the holing up in my home and waiting out the storms. (Until I get another fire call.) But I *will* venture forth for a motorcycle endorsement (I was less than encouraged when the DMV worker told me to keep bringing back my card "until" I pass the test. "Um, well, I hope to pass it the first time!"). And I'll get there early enough to take the test this time!

Um, yeah. I'm just procrastinating now.

first fire

It was raining HARD again today. I got up and spent a leisurely time, then went out for an hour walk, then came back and chilled and thought about doing Pilates. Upon finishing Pilates the phone rang.

Crap. A Minnesota phone number. Susan was asked not to give out my new number!

But no, it wasn't anybody I'm hiding from. It was Jake from the Red Cross and there was a fire.

"How soon will you be here? Give me 15 minutes."

I still smelled like tequila and a body other than mine - I definitely had to shower.

I'm pleased that I can shower and be fully ready in 9.5 minutes. My running to the shower while ripping off my clothes must have sounded funny to the neighbor.

We crossed the bridge (I'm so glad he was driving) and arrived to see where an apartment's kitchen had been destroyed. It was a simple response - maybe made that way because Jake rocks. He knows just how to ask the questions and to move through everything expeditiously. The family was really nice. Fortunately only their kitchen was destroyed - everything else was fine. But we got them some emergency aid for food which could help them out.

So, first fire down. In the pouring rain, but not in the middle of the night. An unfortunate but not disastrous situation.

When Jake drove me back, the old men who hang out on the corner were being total cards when they saw the van, and when I got out Dodo and his cousin Cam interrogated me on where I had been and why.

I love my neighborhood.

Mission: First Date

Um, yeah. It was totally a date. There was no Spanish lesson.

And I, in a heretofore unknown valiant defending of my virtue, managed to say I was going home when he suggested we move to the bed.

But before that, I realized it was a date when he closed the car door for me and when he told me I looked nice.

I guess I never get tired of hearing those words. The drinking from my cup though, I could do without.

Dodo was pretty miffed that I was stepping out on him. "Where you goin lookin like that? Who you goina see?"

Yes, Dodo is five. And I wasn't like Super Vamp. I had on earrings and lipstick and mascara and jeans and boots and a shirt snapped down to show a little cleavage (um, I hadn't thought about the easy-access of the snap shirt!).

And then Carolyn saw me and wanted to say the same thing, and I started laughing because I was keeping his identity secret from her. No need for her to know, or the landlord, or anybody. We're just hooking up. I've always had a little fantasy about hooking up with the handyman. I can't wait until he comes over to do some task and I try to seduce him during the workday.

It just felt so very strange. Good and nice, but strange. And I really missed D. Not that D's technique is better or anything, but just - that's the body I know so well. "i love my body when it is with your body ..."

Anyway, it was nice to be out - we went to my favorite restaurant and he approved, and then we went back to his place where he was right - a little tequila did make my stomach feel better.

He has a very distinctive set of beliefs about gender, some of which are straight out of, say, 14th century Saudi Arabia. No, he's not that bad, but some of his shit is pretty out there.

And then he took my shirt off.

Um, but about four hours of talking first. I just kept wondering WHEN he was going to FINALLY kiss me.

Anyway, we both know he's leaving and that's out in the open and it's great. I didn't tell him exactly that I was using him in this way, but I think he doesn't care. I'll tell him later.

So, we're totally casual and whatever happens, happens. Or doesn't. I'm just proud of myself. I met him, I liked him, I got together with him. This gives me hope for my future. That I am attractive and flirtatious enough to get what I want (when "it" is single, of course).

And when does it start working that I forget about my ex?

And I'm still not thrilled about getting naked in front of him. Maybe Wednesday night, on my way out of town.

****
7/15: If I need to choose between being friends with him or sleeping with him, I'm going with friends. It's easy to get laid, but not so easy to find people whose company I enjoy. We are universes apart in our thinking on gender, but it's fun to talk things through. He's easy to be with. And I even let him drive my truck, which is very weird for me - usually only Lalo ever drives my truck. I think I won't tell Lalo this.

Why would I need to choose? I'm not really mature about these things - doing the deed changes things. And I think for him, too. He's Mennonite, and there's a strong taboo against premarital sex - and I don't think he's fully evolved past that. I'm not sure, but I have that sense. If we hang out again, we'll talk about all this.

I like that I woke up this morning and had nothing to regret or feel weird about. I don't have to feel self-conscious about asking the landlord to fix the stove, no embarrassment about having the yardwork done. Maybe we'll make out again, maybe we won't. Whatev. I had a good time.

Baby steps.

******
Neighbor just asked straight out, "So, did you have fun last night? Was it with ** or what?"

Damn I can't keep a secret. Not that it was a secret but I didn't want to talk about it, which is why I didn't bring it up.

Damn my transparency.

rainy afternoon

I can't remember the last time I took a rainy afternoon to do nothing meaningful without feeling guilty. Ah, it's lovely.

I just watched V for Vendetta. Highly recommend it.

I watched something yesterday that was not good enough to even remember. Um ... oh yeah. Nacho Libre and The Lake House. They were both movies I'd wanted to see, but neither was good at all. Not bad enough to turn off, but I would never watch them again. These are all bootlegs from Stephen, so I'm happy to have a few good ones in the mix - it's always a crapshoot with movies and my tastes. I also have The Last King of Scotland which I actually liked enough to want to see again.

Hmmm ... the Crying Game connection there - Stephen Rea and Forest Whitaker. I really liked that movie. Not just for the gasps in the audience at that moment, but for the IRA tale.

Like the tension I blathered about before in a previous post - that of eternal monogamy and free love - I'm a warrior pacifist.

Really fervently a pacifist, multigenerational, it's in my genes - but it's also what I really strongly believe: that war and violence really, really are not the answer to any question besides "What is stupid and always does more harm than good?"

But this is because of who I am. Because of the privilege of my life and the power of my position in the world. I do not steal because I am not hungry; I do not kill because I am not in danger. I idolize Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Cesar Chavez - the big guns who turned away from guns.

But if I were an Indian revolutionary or a migrant farmworker or Black in the 50's & 60's - would I believe in nonviolence?

In Battle of Algiers, there is a haunting scene where a woman walks into a bar with a case which she leaves behind - which explodes and kills everyone near.

Would I be that woman? Would it depend? I can think of so many situations that would sorely test my pacifist resolve, and I do not know how I would end up or what I would do.

What if my ancestors hadn't come from Ireland and I was living in occupied territory? Would I join the IRA and would I commit violent acts?

I don't know.

And what if the peace-loving is really just a load of crap fed to me by people in charge to keep me complacent? Sure, I protest the invasion of Iraq, but I don't lead armed mutiny to overthrow the president.

And this is all just another thing I disagree with the Tangoing Mennonite about - it's not better to appear mysterious. He deliberately won't answer questions sometimes in order to keep himself unknown and more interesting - at least that's what he says. It's kinda like what I did with my students a few years ago when somehow they were certain I'd been in prison but I wouldn't tell them what for. Several were obsessed with finding out. Any time their attention lagged I could bring it up for certain refocus on whatever I was saying.

But that was BS. In actual getting to know people, there's no need to deliberately mystify oneself. There are so many mysteries even to oneself. There are so many things I do not know about myself because so much depends. What would it take for me to become a suicide bomber? Or a lawyer? Ask me five years ago what I'd be, and neither would come to mind.

We are, in the right circumstances, full of vast untapped potential. We're huge vats of mystery.

have I mentioned that I love my neighborhood

The Tangoing Mennonite is not so in love with my neighborhood, so he asked me why I love it. So, I've been thinking.

I love that thunder usually warns me before there's rain. Just now I heard thunder so got on my bike and rode around, knowing I'd be forced back in before long.

First I saw Homeless Guy whose name I don't remember. He's usually around here and people give him chores to do so he can get by. This is one of the things I love here - Hustla, for example, pays him to do yardwork or other things she's paid to do. She is scraping by and has had to wait weeks to earn enough money to pay to get her car out of the shop, but she is still helping out the more needy.

Then I rode around thinking of all the things I love here. I seriously fall in love with the houses every time I see them - I look wistfully through all these neighborhoods. And I love that one street up and over there's a ton of work being done on houses falling apart. I love that while this neighborhood is really predominantly Black, I do see Latinos and Whites and Asians as well. I love that everybody (except the teenagers who are too cool everywhere) waves and says hello as I bicycle around. I love that there are old couples sitting outside on their porches together, friends chatting, neighbors catching up. [This is what the Tangoing Mennonite doesn't love - that people are sitting around not doing anything. I'm going to convince him it's a very good thing. Because I know that people drive through here and think, "Those good-for-nothings just sitting around and lazy!" But the reality is that everybody I know sitting around works at least one full-time job and they're sitting around after work is over. Instead of being inside watching a TV, they're outside living their neighborhood. There are also retired people, and how much of a better life they have to watch the world from their stoop rather than be cooped up in some retirement home.]

I love how clean the air feels after a rain. Right now it's going at it hard and I love opening my doors to feel it.

I love that when raindrops started falling and I rushed back home, as I chatted up Hustla who told me what was up, the Homeless Guy Whose Name I Can't Remember told me I needed more air in my back tire.

He's worried about basic survival and he takes the time out from getting out of the rain to be courteous to me.

I love my neighborhood.

what warms the heart

Just-received email from a former student I hope to see when I'm in Cali next weekend, whom I warned I would be pushing and spellchecking his job and college applications (he just graduated and got exited from the foster care system without support - ARGH! - I HATE how our foster care system does that!!)

"sure im so excited about u coming to cali so no matter wat im doing that day i sure wanna see u then ill cancel anything just let me know the exact time."

Sometimes when you're a teacher, you sure know when you've made a difference. But a lot of times I didn't know until much later when kids would write me letters or stop by and thank me for things I had no idea I'd done. It always warms the heart to know that you were an integral person in somebody's life. In this kid's case, it wasn't until he asked me for help with class scheduling that I realized he was way off track with graduation plans - they'd had him in wrong classes for two years. I got another teacher on the case with me, and he was able to graduate on-time rather than being kicked around that crappy continuation school indefinitely until he dropped out.

Someday I will have foster children. So many of my former students were in the system and so many times when they'd tell me the stories I would think, "I could do so much better than that!" Of course it's so different to deal with a kid 24/7 than it is for five hours a week in a classroom - but I've really loved these kids, and that makes such a difference. They get under my skin and I carry them with me in my heart. For all the things I may have done for them, they've done so much more for me - they've taught me so many things, and while I have miles to go before being a good person, they've improved me so much.