Eating Habits...

...it occurred to me tonight that if I lived alone, I would likely die of scurvy or malnutrition. While I love food in many ways for many reasons, I never really feel the need to cook just for myself. So instead, I end up grazing from whatever is available. For instance, I had crackers with some sort-of-bruschetta tonight, along with olives (green, straight from the jar), and frozen meatballs I defrosted in the microwave. I washed it all down with orange juice. Sitting here recounting it, I feel vaguely ashamed. And yet, I could have had all manner of things, or I could have gone to the store to get supplies, or something that qualifies as an actual meal. But somehow, I don't think I can be alone. How do you eat when nobody's around? Do you make a whole, balanced meal, working away in the kitchen to spoil yourself with tasty treats? Or do you graze from whatever catches your fancy, standing shamelessly in front of the fridge?

By the way, my interview for the forums liaison position went well. I'm getting ready to prepare some writing samples in response to actual forum postings involving my company. I realized today again how proud I am to work for American Muscle. Like any company, we make our share of gaffes, and people will mention that online. It's human nature on both ends. But our customer service is amazing, to the point where customers with nothing at stake will spring to our defense, always willing to tell a fellow Mustang lover that they should give us another chance. And, we work hard as a company to deserve that. I have never worked for a place, or even hear of one, that is so dedicated to doing the right thing and taking care of customers. It's a great feeling, to know I work for a good place that cares. Confusing to me, after all these years at huge corporations, but very good.

That's all for tonight, and I'm barely squeaking in under the wire. But tomorrow, the Ren Faire!

Laura...

...someone made the mistake of telling me she likes my profiles of my loved ones, and this has been rolling around in my head for a while now. Laura is one of my Jersey Girls, and might just be the only person on Earth I love more than Jim.

Laura is beautiful, and she's always put together. That's what strikes you first about her, and she plays right into that. She is crazy smart, but she won't let you in on that little secret until she determines if you deserve to know. Her intelligence is one of her best defenses, and her best weapons. She's had the hardest, most heartbreaking childhood of anybody I know, real or fictional. Her birth mother is one of the most horrible human beings I claim acquaintance with.

Laura's funny and sweet and one of the most compassionate people ever. She's silly and loves children and tanning and hides cookies where her health-nut (and short!) boyfriend won't find them. She's the kind of friend you can call at two am when you've just had a fight with your boyfriend and need someone to vent to who understands. And she's not afraid to return the favor and call you, she shares her vulnerabilities like she shares her strengths. Whether she'll tell you so or not, Laura wants to be loved. And she's willing to fight for love, and to take chances for it. Her bravery is astonishing, especially since she has some pretty tough anxiety issues that she's working through. I've said before that really old friends are like your favorite old sneakers, they just fit comfortably, no matter how long you go between wearing them. Well, Laura's like your favorite high heels; she's classy, comfortable to spend time with, makes you feel your best.

I do speak often of the strong women I'm surrounded by, Laura is one of the strongest I know. She's amazing, and closer to me than anyone else. She holds all the secrets of my little soul, and she's trusted me with many of hers. She's really more than a friend, she's a sister of the heart and I, like so many, would be lost without her.

Blogtoberfest!

Since I am a follower at heart, I thought I'd give Blogtoberfest a shot this year. It sounds like a good time, and a great way to exercise my writing skills. Plus, I'll be spending some much-needed time with the blog. There might be a facelift in the future. And possibly some interesting bits and bobs. Who knows? It'll be a great adventure!

Writing Sample...

I'm applying for a different position at work. We have what's called a web forum liaison position open. Basically, I would be reading and posting on major Mustang forums, as well as answering technical questions and trying to resolve any issues that people are discussing on the boards. It sounds like an interesting, fun job. And it requires writing, which is something I love to do. The problem is, I need a writing sample. I was thinking of just linking to my blog, but many of my more recent posts have been unpleasantly whiny. Still, I feel like the blog is a good example of my narrative voice, and it gives a great sense of my casual writing style. So, I had a brain storm. If any particular post, however recent or remote, has stuck with you, let me know. You don't have to link to it, I can wander through the archives. But I'd like to offer up a bit of memorable writing for this interview, something different or funny or even dramatic or sad. But really, something that resonated. I would love some feedback, and some suggestions. Meanwhile, I'm going to root through my old college essays and see what I can find that might work.

In other news, my family and my aunts are gathering on Sunday to remember my grandmother. I'm looking forward to the family time, and to the chance to learn about woman who, if Momolla is any indication, was probably pretty neat. I hope your week goes by quickly and smoothly, and that you get a taste of our sunshine.

Mourning...

...is a funny thing, sometimes. My grandmother died today. That's the second grandparent this year, and the last one I'm biologically related to. I know my cousins (my mother's sister's children) will be upset by it; they were close to her. Somehow, though, I can't mourn the woman. I hardly knew her. For a variety of reasons, and because of a lot of family drama, we were never close to my mom's parents. I wish, and have wished many times, that this were not so. There will be no funeral, no memorial, no ceremony in my grandmother's honor. She didn't want one; I'm not sure why. So my family and my grandmother's sisters will gather and remember her. I'm looking forward to hearing about her, to learning what she was like. And all the while, I'll feel sad. I will mourn, though it won't be for the woman, but rather, for the relationship we never had.

I'll draw comfort from my Aunt Joan and Aunt Elsie, who I do know and love, and from the knowledge that when I eventually have children, they will know their grandparents. My children will have a gloriously extended family full of love and insanity.

To the grandmother I never really knew. May you rest in peace, and may you leave behind more loved ones to mourn your passing on your next go-round.

Dedication...

...this is for Laura (who is stronger than i can even imagine, and whose willingness to love astounds me), for my Aunt Denise (who is going to beat the cancer a second time, dammit.), for Momolla (who can love so strongly and laugh no matter what), for Kate (who is a rock for everyone around her), for El (who has the courage and strength to be herself, always and totally), for Bells (who is brave enough to share her heartbreak and loving enough to comfort others from the midst of it), for Amy-girl (who is simply amazing, and won't be told no), for me (i am never broken), for all of the fabulous strong wome I am surrounded by.

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

--Maya Angelou

Because, my darlings, my friends, we rise.

It's Amazing...

...what a dramatic reduction of stress will do for you. Since I've started the great new job, I have been less frazzled and moody and stressed and angry for no reason. My skin has cleared up (really cleared up, not just relatively-clear-for-me-cleared-up), my hair is softer, and I can actually sleep at night.

That's not to say that it's not stressful, or that it's not work; believe me, it is. But, it's work I can do and then leave here at the end of the day. And I've actually been trained, and there's almost always someone around to answer a question. On the rare occasion that there isn't, and I make a judgment call, if I screw it up, nobody yells. They tell me how to do it better next time and then move on. It's a beautiful thing. And, since customer service is something I am vastly familiar with, it's been pretty easy to slip into the pattern here. I'm trying to learn what I can about the many intricacies of Mustangs, but at this point, all I can do is pick up bits and bobs as I go.

The new schedule has been lovely, too. Granted, I get worn out by Friday. But having two days in a row off is liberating. And we get home and I'm able to do things if I'm motivated enough, so I'm slowly reclaiming the house from the filth and grime that have crept in over the last several months. The house isn't (and, who am i kidding, never will be) perfect, but I'd like to keep it at a level of clean where if I were to have an unexpected visitor, I wouldn't be ashamed. It's a process, and I'm not getting as much help as I would like, but I have come to realize that my choices in this matter are to a)buckle down, clean like a fiend for a few weeks, and then maintain the cleanliness and feel put-upon b) bully, cry, and nag the people I live with into cleaning and pulling their own weight, creating a less-than optimal cleanliness level and large amounts of tension or c)live with the frustration, anger, and guilt that come from having such a pretty house be so gross all the time while we all sit around and moan about how gross it is. It bugs me, but really the first one is the only viable option if I want to stay remotely sane and not be lynched by my housemates. And so, the cleaning goes. And will continue, until I'm comfortable in my home again.

On the crafting front, I am pleased to report that I haven't given up the sticks entirely and moved on. I've been spinning and knitting, albeit slowly. I am working on a Forest Canopy shawl for a friend, having given up on the Adamas pattern. I like it quite a bit, but I wasn't able to get things to add up properly. And my great and mighty stubbornnes has limits. I will only slam my head against a brick wall so many times before I go and look for a new, softer wall to abuse. So the switch has been made, and things are coming along rather well. Turns out I'm not as slow at knitting as I thought, when I set aside the time to knit something. Since I can't knit a pattern and hold a conversation, I've been shutting myself away in the bedroom last night to make sure that I get a certain amount of knitting done each week. The date that I plan to give this shawl away is fast approaching, and I don't want to be standing around with a half-finished shawl.

As far as the spinning goes, I'm finally having some luck with some gorgeous merino. It's dyed in colors that remind me of a sunset, a deep deep scarlet and a dark, hazy blue and a dusky gold color. I'm feeling really proud of myself on this one, and I'm looking forward to spinning up the last of my singles tonight and plying it over the weekend. It'll be a two-ounce skein, probably about a fingering weight. I'm too busy enjoying the colors and the process of spinning to worry about what I'll make with it yet.

That's all the news I have for you today, darlings. It's time to go have lunch. I hope your weekend is sunny and glorious!