So, I was reading over some of my blogs and sometimes I come off as really juvenile and immature. Which is pretty sad for someone who sees 30 coming up the road in the not too distant future. I was utterly amazed when my friends starting getting married because I feel too young to be doing something like that. And when they start having babies, I think I'm really going to lose it.

So, forgive me if I come off more as someone acting her shoe size than her age. I hope I come off as more mature in person.

Greg reminded me today of the word I made up a few years ago. I think I was probably about 22 or 23. I got really drunk off of dirty martinis. I had never been that drunk before so it was definitely new for me. I eventually blacked out or something because the next thing I knew my boyfriend (now ex-) was leaning over me talking to me. I took his face in my hands and tried to talk to him but strange words were coming out of my mouth. It made me giggle because I couldn't make myself understood. He carried me to bed and tucked me in and I told him he was being a very good "sevenger." Erik always assumed that I was smarter than he was so he just figured that was a word he didn't know. I knew in my drunken stupor that that wasn't the word I was trying to say but I couldn't get out the appropriate word. Erik finally gave up trying to figure it out and wrote down the word to ask me what it meant the next day. Of course, there is no word "sevenger." I made it up. We decided that it would mean someone who takes care of you when you are drunk or otherwise incapacitated. Not just a designated driver but also someone who puts you to bed, gives you water and aspirin, takes out your contacts etc. For awhile, my friends decided to try and get "sevenger" in the dictionary. But I think we will have to settle for using it within our group. So, when appropriate, try to incorporate the word "Sevenger" into your vocabulary.

Wow. I started this blog talking about how immature I sound and look what I ended up talking about. I'm not really raising the level, am I?

So, I was interested in SUGAR IN THE RAW's latest blog and thought I'd take a quiz to find out where I fall politically. In quizzes where Independent is not a choice, I fall to Democrats. In quizzes where it IS a choice, I fall with the Independents. I have joined the Democratic party because right now other parties like the Green Party don't have enough voice to really change things. But I consider myself an Independent.

Try this quiz:

http://www.channelonenews.com/election_2004/2003/10/08/politics/


This is how the quiz described me:

Your stance on the issues makes you more of an independent, meaning you side with different parties depending on the issues. There are numerous political parties in the U.S., including the environmentalist Green Party, the laissez-faire Libertarian Party and Ross Perot's Reform Party, all of which have had candidates make strong showings in elections and even win office-- but they tend to appeal to a much smaller segment of the electorate.

So, I just couldn't face another night at home so I went to the mall and saw "13 Going on 30." Now, I'm not the type of person to like cutsy stuff, but I really enjoyed it. The woman in the movie was my age and grew up in the 80's so it was really nostalgic. And I liked the message. It's no Academy award contender but it definitely made me feel good. All about being confident at 30 and happy with who you are. And since I'm upping the cheese factor today, I thought I'd add this quote from a song I like. But it's an embarrassing artist so I won't tell you who it is. If you recognize it, then you are just as cheesy as I am. Anyway, I thought this described me pretty well.

"The real me is a southern girl with her Levis on and an open heart
Wish I could save the world, like I was Supergirl
The real me used to laugh all night lying in the grass just talking about love
But lately I've been jaded life got so complicated"

Now, we'll see if I can get through the day talking as little as possible to help my voice heal. This will be difficult for a talker like me.

So, I think I may have to kill my co-worker. She always tries my patience because she is SO SLOW and doesn't seem to know how to do anything. She constantly has to ask about library policy and how to do things even though she has been at the library six months longer than I have! And she gets completely bogged down with one customer so her co-worker at the desk has to handle EVERYONE else! If we didn't work together, I'd probably like her a lot but as a co-worker she is driving me crazy! I tried to help her out with a customer today because she was fumbling around in her usual confused haze and then she yelled at me in front of the customer! She has been allowed to teach an ESL class in addition to her normal duties (which she can barely handle) and she turns the hour class into a two-hour fiasco every Wednesday night. Leaving me to take up the slack. And I am sick of it. If I complain, I will just be written off as short-tempered Amy complaining again. I am going to do everything I can to avoid her. Wednesdays nights we are along together, though. This could get really ugly. Wish I had another job lined up.

So, it's early Sunday evening. Almost time for the "Sopranos." It's strange how quickly one's life can change. I was often slightly irritated at having to give up some of my alone time to be with someone else. Now everything is to quiet. I am trying to fill my time with books and movies. I try to read four books a month. I just finished my fifth for April today. You could say I have a lot of time on my hands. The phone doesn't even ring. At least with Bill, I knew I'd speak to him at least once a day. Now, I can go for a day or two without even speaking. Unless I talk to Toulouse. Of course, I have no voice right now due to my illness so I couldn't talk on the phone anyway. And my time will fill again once my various memberships start picking up. It's just strange and a little sad. Hard to get used to. I should be doing useful things like cleaning my house, organizing my closet, working out or scrapbooking. But right now, all I feel like doing is laying in bed reading. This too shall pass. It will just take a little time.

So, the days after my breakup haven't been too hard. I have plenty to keep me busy and distracted. But the nights....they are so hard. I got off work at 9pm last night and found myself looking at my cell phone expecting Bill to call. He would always call me right after I got off work. But the phone never rang. And my house was deathly quiet. It made it hard for me to sleep. I have always had problems with awful nightmares. But since I've been with Bill, they had virtually gone away. If I ever had a bad dream, I could reach out my arm and touch him and feel comforted. But now I reach out and there is nothing there. Just space. How long will it take me to get used to this?

So, with apologies to Pablo Neruda, I'd like to post one of his poems. With my own alterations.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, `The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved him, and sometimes he loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held him in my arms.
I kissed him again and again under the endless sky.

He loved me, sometimes I loved him too.
How could one not have loved his great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have him. To feel that I have lost him.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without him.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep him.
The night is starry and he is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost him.

My sight tries to find him as though to bring him closer.
My heart looks for him, and he is not with me.

The same night, whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love him, that's certain, but how I loved him.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch his hearing.

Another's. He will be another's. As he was before my kisses.
His voice, his bright body. His infinite eyes.

I no longer love him, that's certain, but maybe I love him.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held him in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost him.

Though this be the last pain he makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for him.

So, it's cold and raining outside. And I love it! I wish I could be home in bed right now with Toulouse and a book. But I'm stuck at work until 9pm. How depressing.

Well, today is the first day of the rest of my life. I don't plan on dating anytime soon but just in case...

If any of you run across this person, let me know:

A semi-athletic well-educated nerd with well-formed senses of humor and adventure. Preferably a liberal, secular humanist and practicing Christian. (tall and aged 29-35 a plus)


I could be waiting awhile.

I just want to clarify something. I do NOT feel my life is empty without a partner. I see my life as this really cool puzzle. The kind you only find at specialty puzzle stores. The more I fit the pieces together, the happier I am with the end result. It isn't always easy to get it to fit together right. And sometimes, I worry that I have too MANY pieces. But it seems to be coming out all right. And most of the time, I'm quite proud of my puzzle. I like the challenges and intricacies of it. Even though it may frustrate and confuse me at times and give me a headache. To the point that I just want to knock it across the room. But mostly, I enjoy it and I'm proud of it. I may get to the end of it and there will be one small missing piece to mar the overall picture. That missing piece may be a partner. Or it may be the perfect job. Or something else. But that doesn't necessarily take away from the rest of the image. I'd just like to have a complete puzzle. You know what I mean? It just looks better. But I'm still pretty comfortable with how my puzzle is turning out. I have some terrific friends in the picture as well as a great home and family and pet and car and interests/hobbies. Lots of great pieces in my puzzle. How's that for a metaphor? Simile?

I'm trying to keep myself amused today so I don't think about my life. This guy has a terrific blog full of fun websites. I especially liked making my own Talking Head.

http://j-walkblog.com/blog/index/C0_6_1/

I'm sorry I haven't been keeping up with my blog lately. My life has seemed to be spiraling out of control lately. I've been sick of body and sick of spirit. The body illness is a bad cold that is moving into my chest. The spirit illness is knowing that Bill and I were falling apart. And we were. We ended things last night. It had been coming for awhile but it is never easy. It isn't a question of love. We both love each other. But we have too little in common to make a future together. We both want different things. And that is really hard to have to admit when it means giving up someone you love. But it could only end badly. It will be a horrible transition for me after having been with him for a year and a half. The thought of facing that sort of crushing loneliness again makes me want to crumple into a ball on the floor. I would like to hide from the world for a few days. Just stay in my bed with Toulouse and some books and DVDs. But I fear I would live in my head too much. As it is, I didn't get any sleep last night. So, I am looking to work for a distraction. It's not working great so far.

And, like my friend Frank, I am feeling a lot of anger towards God. I'm still waiting for an answer to all my prayers. And maybe it will come in a form I don't recognize. But right now, I'd like to know what the hell I'm doing wrong! I am so frustrated. Maybe I just need to recognize that I am meant to be alone. And make my peace with it once and for all. As a character in AGE OF INNOCENCE said, "I do not mind being alone as long as my friends keep me from being lonely." And luckily, I have plenty in my life to fill up time and space. So, I think I'll get things figured out eventually.

So, I'd like to talk about heroes today because my mind is still on the Alamo. I know many Texans will be bothered by the new "Alamo" film because it dispenses with many of the legends that we hold dear. Davy Crockett does not go down fighting in a blaze of glory. Travis does not draw a line in the sand and Bowie doesn't have himself carried over it. Emily Morgan (the Yellow Rose of Texas) isn't shown distracting Santa Anna with her...um...girly bits at San Jacinto. And Sam Houston is depicted not as a military vistionary but a drunkard. But does this make the men and women of the Texas revolution any less heroes? I don't think so.

I read somewhere once that to set up our heroes as perfect does everyone a disservice. It makes your average person think that he or she cannot rise to heroic levels. Any hero you can think of has some dark secret or flaw. For example, Martin Luther King, Jr. was an adulterer. Does that make his contribution any less significant? No. Is it a little disappointing? Yes. We would like our heroes to be perfect. But if they were, how could we ever become heroes. Do you think the brave men and women who rushed in to help on 9/11 were perfect? No. They were ordinary people who were driven to extraordinary actions. We can be heroes too.

I went to a benefit last night for the Rape Awareness and Assistance Program. It was really good. I love stuff like that. And I actually won something. A keg of beer from the Wynkoop Brewery. Now I'll just have to decide how to use it.

So, I had a fairly decent Easter. The sun came out even though it was cold and I actually made it inside the sanctuary this year by going half an hour early. My pastor gave a really great sermon. I always grumble about going to church but when I get there, I'm always really happy to be there. There is just something so comforting about being in church around all the familiar rituals.

I spent a lovely evening with my friends, Amy and Greg. They always serve great food at their house and the conversation is always good. We are such nerds we actually spent some time reading the dictionary. I think we all have a fondness for words.

I did make it over to the theater to see "The Alamo" and I was mighty disappointed. It could have been a great film. One that inspired all Americans. But instead, it was a mass of confusion that offered no historical context. Even Texans familiar with Texas history could be confused. (and if you grow up in Texas, you are required to have a year of Texas history in 7th grade) Without explaining why the Alamo was important or any of the historical background of the war, it made it seem like a bunch of random ruffians ended up in a mission together and died there. It's a real shame because it is such a heroic story. Even when you chop out the parts of legend. As much I love all the legends surrounding the Alamo, part of me thinks it is better to present those men as they were. Just simple rough men out to make a new life for themselves. They weren't perfect. But they were courageous and they all believed in the same dream. It makes me teary-eyed just thinking about it.

Hope y'all had a good Easter, too.

So, the new "Alamo" movie opens tonight. I'd really like to go home, put on my cowgirl boots and my Texas t-shirt and head over to the theater. But it has been rainy and cold all day and it may start snowing soon. They are predicting 3-5 inches. That is lousy Easter weather if you ask me. I may end up just going home and heading to bed early with a book.

I was listening to Jodee Messina today in the car (one of the few country singers I actually like) and she has this great song with the following refrain:

"I want a man who stands beside me. Not in front of or behind me. Give me two arms that wanna hold me, not own me, and I'll give all the love in my heart."

I really like that. That is exactly what I have been looking for. Unfortunately, I've had men who want to stand in front of me quite often. I am too independent for that and one of my greatest fears is being forced into a housewife role. And right now, I'm with someone who sort of stands behind me. Content to let me be in the forefront and control everything. That's not particularly great either. My friend Greg says I'm just too independent. It's hard for me to let anyone in or to give up control in the least. I hate that. Maybe I'm just strong-willed. Or maybe it's being an only child. But I certainly wasn't raised to be submissive or shrinking. I am opinionated, outspoken, and (lately) quick to anger. But I am also loyal, loving, generous and (sometimes) fun-loving. It makes for a weird combination.

I have decided that I am going to attend the 9am service at church on Easter and then do one of two things depending on the weather.

If it doesn't snow and it remains reasonably okay outside I will attend the special Easter hash event. We're going to run around outside in costumes.

OR

If the weather is rotten, I'll head over to the Denver Art Museum to see the new exhibit on Mexican Colonial Art.

There. I planned my own Easter. What a big girl I am.

I watched "House of Sand and Fog" last night. Lots of people told me it wasn't that great but I found it very moving. I felt sympathy for all of the characters. (Except that loser sheriff guy) And it was absolutely heartbreaking. No one was really in the wrong and yet a series of tragic events took place. It wasn't like there was one evil bad person to root against. In some ways, it reminded me of "Dirty Pretty Things" because it deals with some of the challenges that immigrants face. It must be so hard. So, if you are in the mood for something emotionally hardcore, watch "House of Sand and Fog."

I love Easter. I really do. Especially when there is beautiful spring weather outside. Easter for me is definitely a time of renewal and rebirth. If I have done things right, I will have spent some quality time with God throughout Lent. And then I get to really celebrate in church on Easter Sunday. This is very un-Christianlike of me but I get so irritated when I can't get into my own sanctuary on Easter Sunday. All these people you never see throughout the church year suddenly show up. My pastor calls them "C and E Christians." (Christmas and Easter) It's nice that these people come to church on Easter but I hate it that I go year-round and then can't get inside on Easter. Maybe they should have reserved seating for those of us who go year round. That would be a nice perk for all those Sundays I spent teaching.

Growing up, my parents always made Easter special. I remember having baskets full of Easter books and small toys. And going on Easter egg hunts. And dressing up in a new Easter dress for church. One year, my aunt even made hundreds of egg people, each with a distinct personality. I loved those egg people! I acted out involved stories with them. And then my friend Ellen just reminded me of an Easter I spent with her and my parents having brunch at the beautiful Hyatt Hill Country during college. That was such a great day! The past few years, I have organized an Easter picnic in the park with friends. We've potlucked it and then played volleyball and badminton and even flew kites. It has been a fun event but this year I'm still so bummed by New Year's that I'm not planning anything. I hope Easter won't be a bust this year because I really look forward to it. But in my experience, if I don't plan something myself, nothing will happen.

Whew! I can't believe it is Tuesday already! This past Sunday, I played Mary Magdalene for three hours at church. We have an Easter walk where kids and adults walk through different rooms depicting different scenes of Holy Week from Palm Sunday to the Empty Tomb. In each room, they hear a brief story from a costumed character and receive a small memento. I was in charge of the Empty Tomb. I had a different group every 5-10 minutes. I was exhausted by the time it was over.

So, I have a though for you women out there. Maybe this experience is unique to me but it always seems like women tend to pick up the interests of their partners and not vice versa. Women always seem to be really good about trying to get involved in their partner's interests and hobbies. But men never seem to do the same. These are the following interests I have tried to pick up/pursue through men I have dated:

the military
drinking
card games
weight lifting
mountain biking
heavy metal music
genealogy
running
hashing
sports cars
tropical fish
special diets like the Zone
vitamins/antioxidants
video cameras
rap/hip hop/dance music
four wheel driving
biology
golf
etc etc etc

(some of these I still pursue...but not many)

I do these things in an attempt to share my partner's interests and to become closer. And because I really like to learn new things. But the people I date have never seemed to have any real interest in learning about my hobbies. Except for Nick. He was willing to read whatever I suggested and even attended a Richard Leakey lecture with me. But that was rare. Men seem to just take for granted that women will follow along with their interests. My friend Anna, for example, is learning French for her boyfriend and is trying to learn more about racing cars since that is what he is into. Why do we always have to be the ones to take up the other person's interests? When will I date a guy who starts getting into politics, museums and art films to know me better? It's kind of irritating.

So, I'm back from Amy's "Back to my Roots" tour of Texas. I hadn't realized how much I really miss Texas. When I stepped off the plane in Austin, I heard country music playing and the smell of barbecue filled the air. I nearly wept. I have never associated Texas with cowboys, horses, boots and country music. To me, that was always a crazy stereotype made up by Yankees. I just never saw that growing up. But I guess those things are a part of Texas.

My mom's new place looks great. It's really coming along. I had a chance to meet my "aunt's" new kids. A pair of adorable African-American children she adopted last year. One 9-yr-old girl and a nearly 11-yr-old boy. I hope they can come visit me in Colorado. Mom took me to a very funny current events revue called "Esther's Follies." If you are ever in Austin, check them out! After the show, we went next door to the Velveeta Room for a little comedy. It was awful! Don't ever go there. We actually got harassed by one of the comics whose humor was beyond offensive. The next day we headed to San Antonio and ended up getting in the middle of the world premiere of the "Alamo" movie. Dennis Quaid was about four feet away from us. And we saw scruffy old Billy Bob Thornton. I still can't believe he gave up Angelina! We had lots of Mexican food and even had time to see "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind." I liked it but Mom thought it was too weird. I thought it was pretty predictable but creative.

I have wisdom to share with you from my trip. On Friday, I paid for lunch at a restaurant with my debit card. I didn't notice until Sunday that the restaurant had given me someone else's debit card instead of mine. They both looked exactly the same. Luckily, the other guy hadn't used mine. I cancelled it in time. But it took me that long to notice. Always make sure that businesses give you back YOUR card and not someone else's.

While in Texas, I stocked up on items that brought me back to my roots. A new pair of brown cowboy boots. A beautiful embroidered Western shirt. Some jalapeno jelly and special salsa. Things that will keep me in touch with Texas.