**incessant boring chatter alert**

I went to target the other day to buy a new pair of jeans.  my old ones are hanging off my butt… which is fine most of the time, but sometimes you like to look nice, y’know?  I favor expensive jeans, but I’m not going to pay many doll hairs if I’m not staying in that size.  I like the mossimo jeans at target anyway.  so I picked up the next size down and when I got them home they were too big.  FUCK.  I HATE returning things.  but YAY, they’re too BIG.  that works.  so I went and tried on my “skinny jeans” and they fit!  skinny being a relative term, of course… they’re two pair of jeans from a few years ago when I lost a bunch of weight then gained it back.  I bought those as incentive and never got there.  so ACTUALLY, they’re a size I’ve never been before.  I gained all the weight when I was pregnant… went straight from svelte to curvy in six months.

I celebrated with a packet of junior mints.  I get the self defeating award today!

I took the girlies to a halloween party today.  the mothers were from my dad’s work… both I’ve hung out with at the many parties at dad’s house, but now we’re getting invites of our own!  one of the mamas I did CASA training with several years ago.  she now has three year old twin boys.  yeow.  one was running out the front door while the other was climbing over the back fence… no exaggeration.  the other is mama to emma’s favorite friend!  I’m constantly amazed when I drag myself to social functions for “the good of the children” and have fun.

tonight Paula and I are watching Saved and eating pizza.  then she’s watching the girlies while I go out for drinks with a male-type person.  Paula’s a bit worried but I think I’m being very open-minded– I don’t know his party affiliation.  there, I said it.  he could be a republican.  don’t worry; I’ll take pepper spray with me.  (I don’t actually have pepper spray… that was for comedic effect.  I employ steve martin’s tips on avoiding mugging.  when in danger I plan to wet myself or throw up)

(and my new charge card came with my new name on it… except they got my middle name wrong.  it’s obscenely wrong in the weirdest of ways.  I think I’ll keep it that way, see if anyone notices)

I got to hang out with not one but two, count them TWO, high school friends today!  the first one was planned.  we had coffee at this cool place I never even knew existed.  then I headed up to the library to pick up my book club book and ran into a woman I hadn’t seen in ages.  she even turned over some rocks and found the book nobody else could find for me!

on a side note of interest, the coffee shop was just CHOCK full o’ cute boys.  I’ve never seen a coffee shop with boys before.  that’s an innovation that I wholly approve of.

I also weeded the front yard without showing ANY buttcrack (that I’m aware of), put the lawnmower together, and mowed the lawn!  in addition I hit the post office and dropped in at the attorney’s.  tomorrow I sign my will (cross your fingers that I live that long… and if you won’t, then get the fuck outa here; what’re you doing reading this anyway??), and do more winterizing.  I have some sheet plastic that I have to climb atop the unfinished, carpenteric monstrosity and apply with staples.  you can see why I’ll be signing the will first.  I am so not graceful in that way… and totally dreading it.  maybe I’d better wait till I can get some help.  yeah.  I’d better wait.

I was part of the catering crew at the customer appreciation party at this shop tonight.  there were SCADS of people and I had a GREAT time.  my arms are a little shaky from carrying a tray all night, but DAYUM, I feel good… and yes, in a james brown sorta way.

there were five of us and things went so fast.  all the customers were so happy.  it was cool.  they had a pianist and he and I had a quick chat about ellington.  there was only one obvious shithead there and he hit on ALL of us.  he tried to corner me in a broomcloset, the bastard.  earlier when I offered him cheesecake he made a clear reference to performing oral sex.  ew.

Minda asked if I needed to get back right away (I drove in with her… it was out of town) and I said nope, I had nothin’.  she said they usually dropped by the post office before going home and would I be up for that.  I thought, okay, that’s a little odd, but sure… maybe they have a coke machine.  turns out she meant the tavern across the street!  it’s called the post office!

they had karaoke, but we sat in the back.  we had such a fun time!  I only had a cup of coffee but boy was I up!  one time I turned around and a guy behind us was standing there in his red boxers with his pants around his ankles.  I just turned around and continued the convo.  later a guy from that group came up and leaned in really close as he handed me a pen and pad and drunkenly, and at great repetitious length, explained that he wanted us to write down what we thought they were all wearing under their clothes… because they had already done that with us.  and we’re just kind of looking at him like, uh, you’re not serious, but he kept explaining and explaining, so I took them just so he’d go away.  he was attractive enough, but totally bombed.  we ended up leaving while his back was turned.  as one of the girls pointed out, it was creepily pathetic but what put it over the top was his wedding ring.

what a fun time.  I’ve not had so much fun working since the smoke shop.  big smile.

well, I gots me a dee-vorce.  it’s good.  it’s good.

I was first up and had a nice time chatting with my attorney beforehand.  it happened so quickly that I found I had about an hour on my hands before I could pick up bjane (she was napping).  my car windows fogged up I sat in the car so long trying to figure out what to do, where to go.  if it had not been raining I’d have gotten a coffee and gone to the park.  I miss living where I could go to the bay.

but it was raining.  and I kept thinking, I’m divorced, do I feel something?  but I didn’t really.  I felt a lack of feeling something.  weird.  I think I already did all my feeling.

my one close friend in town was working.  I decided to take myself to lunch, fill out a passport renewal, and read my book.  I went to the place that feels like home… the one where the woman I went to the concert with works.  that was actually silly because I knew that’s where mom was going to take us for dinner.  but it sounded comfy.

my friend wasn’t working, but I really like the woman who was.  I told her I was just divorced and she gave me her hearty congratulations.  she seated me, I ordered, and right off the bat I got a call from a great friend!  she had plenty to say, which was perfect because I really had little to say.  I wasn’t down or anything, just a little blank.  in a good way.  then, when we hung up and I was done with my ortega burger I went up to pay.  she told me it was on her!  woooooooo!  what a thoughtful thing for her to do!  I felt so elated!  what a kind act.

then there was dinner (crabcakes), which was a really nice time.  there was no negative energy whatsoever.  the kids were mellow and happy.  we made it to the seven o’clock show right on time and the theatre was nearly empty.  we saw shark tale and while I know the reviews weren’t great, we all really enjoyed it.

I got a call from my in-town friend and I feel like we’re connecting more and more, closer, you know?  it’s the coolest thing!

oh, I also got offerred a one-day job, helping out at a catering job for the restaurant I went to!  yaaaaaaaaay!  it’s just one day, but I bet it will make me feel really good.

I know this was a boring post, and a relatively boring day.  nice, that’s what I’d call it.  I can live with nice.  nice feels great, boy howdy.

I was reading at a bulletin board this morning and found an exerpt from this article:  they’re_singing_your_song by alan cohen.  it was not only touching but enlightening.

A friend is someone who knows your song and sings it to you when you have forgotten it. Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have made or dark images you hold about yourself. They remember your beauty when you feel ugly; your wholeness when you are broken; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your purpose when you are confused.
…Alan Cohen

I don’t wish to continue grieving over people who are not capable of love.  love is action, not affection.  affection is part of love, but not the most important part.  that quote, that exemplifies the most important part.  why waste too much time on grief when I have so much real love in my life?  I’m exploring that dynamic… as to why I do that.   I have some really stout theories and I’m going to use them to implement a more healthy way of relating.  WOOO!

I didn’t step in any goose poo, though I did have to scrape some off my pull-cart wheels at the end of the day.  and I got a lesson!  I was playing alone and the couple in front of my invited me to join them, but I wasn’t feeling the vibe so I said thanks, but no.  they took SOOOO LOOOONG that when the guy behind me caught up I invited him to join me… and I was thinking OH GREAT.  but it was great.  he was a cool guy!  he works at the clubhouse.  by the fourth hole he was giving me GREAT tips.  the best one was that I was standing too far from the ball!  even the pro at the country club didn’t tell me that.  once I corrected it, MAN I was hitting dead on my aim!  very cool guy.  we’re going to play together again.

OH, and a big blue crane flew right in front of me on the ninth tee!

so… I’ll be divorced on tuesday afternoon.  how fucking weird is that?  the pod was being a big whine-baby and even his own attorney started to get snippy with him!!  I gave a lot, but thought fuck it, I’ll be done!

I got to the courthouse extra early and was SUPER anxious.  you know, body anxious, not much you can do about that.  the security/metal detector guy started to get concerned that I was sitting there so long and ended up giving me the heads up on the fact that my att’y was stuck in court!  so rather than hang out with assface and his counsel I went and sat in on somebody else’s hearing.  I got to hear my attorney give testimony as the gaurdian ad litem.  it was cool, and by the time it was done I wasn’t nervous anymore.  also, the judge hearing that case was the judge for our mediation, so I was used to seeing and hearing him by then (and he was used to seeing me as I was the only outside party in the room).

on the way to the conference room outside the judges’ chambers he said, “hey, aren’t you Robbie’s daughter?  wow, that really makes me feel old!”  and I joked with him a little as we walked into the room.  HAHAHAHAHA! 

I had the opportunity to say to the pod:  I’m sorry but if you continue to try to engage me emotionally I’m not going to be able to discuss this matter with you today.  I rock.

and tuesday I get a brand new name!  never been used before!  one of a kind!  I’m glad I saved the good champagne.  I have a frosty bottle of mum’s all ready.

today I go to the Divorce Settlement Conference.  it’s at four.  the letter from his attorney is ridiculous.  essentially he wants me to take all the debt while he takes all the assets and pays me nothing.  oh this is going to be a waste of an hour.  I really don’t see the point.  we may as well just go before a judge and let him (the judge is a man; I’m not just being sexist) decide.  we’re so far apart it’s not going to get settled amicably.

he seems to think I have some vast wealth coming to me.  yes, my grandmother died, BUT…she changed her will over a year ago after she found out about his extracurricular activities.  what.  ever.

so, I’m going out this morning, gonna play me a little golf!  any song/mantra suggestions?  what’s currently playing in my mind is “I will” by the beatles, off the white album… who knows how long I’ve loved you, you know I love you still, will I wait a lonely lifetime; if you want me to I will…   it has such a sweet, calming melody.  my goal for the day:  lose no more than one ball and avoid stepping in goose poo.  that seems reasonable!

I’m not actually watching my Eyes on the Prize videos, but I am oh so glad I bought them when I did.  I spent about $150 over ten years ago, but they’re $300 now.  of course, I had even less money then, but it was really important to me.  I’d never seen ANYthing more moving in my life.  I think the series came out in ’87 or something and I never was able to get it out of my mind.

for a long time, years, I went out of my way to read (almost exclusively) black writers and poets, and to catch up on african american literature that was before my time.  I collect biographies and autobiographies of african american men and women.

anyway, that was an exceptionally wordy preface to a fairly uninteresting anecdote:  I went golfing today.  all alone, as I usually do.  I have a difficult time not overthinking my game so I often employ a mind device during my swing.  I repeat a phrase or mantra to clear my mind.  last time I think it was, “the ball that can be hit is not the eternal ball.”  it helps me relax and use body memory rather than “keep your head down… don’t break your wrist…” etc.

so today, I kept singing, “well the one thing I did right, was the day I started to fight… keep your eyes on the prize, oh lord,” over and over again.  I realize how tacky it is to use a civil rights protest song for relaxation, but I couldn’t get it out of my head!  in fact, I sang it even when I was just pulling my clubs. 

I made par twice and birdied once… although I have to admit to losing one ball in the rough and whiffing twice.  I had a great time.  I think I’ve made it through the woods and it’s fun being inside my head again.

I used to ski in high school, and a little after, but not as much.  my dad taught me in the “go down.  if something gets in your way, turn” method.  I wouldn’t reccommend it.  still, I was able to figure it out and managed to get passably good at it… by singing all the way down:  JOY TO THE WORLD, ALL THE BOYS AND GIRLS; JOY TO THE FISHES IN THE DEEP BLUE SEA, JOY TO YOU AND ME!

so on the way home from the golf course I was thinking about how much I like golf… and sex… and kissing…  and figuring someday I’ll get to do all three.  and then I sang at the top of my lungs: 

“Kiss Me” (sixpence none the richer)

Kiss me out of the bearded barley
Lightly, beside the green, green grass
Swing, swing, swing the spinning step
You wear those shoes and I will wear that dress.

Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight
Lead me out on the moonlit floor
Lift your open hand
Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance
Silver moon’s sparkling
So kiss me

Kiss me down by the broken tree house
Swing me upon its hanging tire
Bring, bring, bring your flowered hat
We’ll take the trail marked on your father’s map

Oh, kiss me beneath the milky twilight
Lead me out on the moonlit floor
Lift your open hand
Strike up the band and make the fireflies dance
Silver moon’s sparkling
So kiss me

when I can let my mind go, my body knows what to do.

Spectator I: I think it was “Blessed are the cheesemakers”.
Bearded Man’s Wife: Aha, what’s so special about the cheesemakers?
Bearded Man: Well, obviously it’s not meant to be taken literally; it refers to any manufacturers of dairy products.

it’s been quite the navel-gazing week, er, month… uh, lifetime?
and after all this concentrated cogitation I have come to the conclusion
that I’m an innie.  yep, definitely an innie.
and that I could use a shower.
and probably a job.
why is it all the good jobs are already taken?
you know, like messiah, or ben and jerry’s taster.

what should I be?  let’s see, what are my main attributes…
vanity
sensitivity (nice way of saying “crys a lot”)
hyperanalysis
curiousity
loquacity (loquaciousness?)

televangelist?  if I could just get a handle on the makeup thing.

I’m pretty loving, you know
and I hang up my wet towels
must think this over some more…

How shall we fuck off, oh lord?!

Paula and I went to see a matinee yesterday, Taxi.  I love me some Queen Latifah and female car chases.  it was a pretty suck-ass movie, but all in all, I enjoyed it.  I laughed out loud and smiled through most of it (althought that could be the anti-D’s).  All Paula had to say was, “I’m glad it wasn’t me that picked it… it’s all on your head.”  I can live with that.

we went out to dinner, Casa Tapatia, one of my faves.  they have great tamales.  afterward we watched Zoolander.  there can never be too much Zoolander.

is it really really bad that secretly I hope that one of my effexor side effects is anorexia?  it’s listed in the top four.  does that make me shallow?  I’m guessing that wanting ludicrously expensive brown and pink cowboy boots more than I want world peace probably already put me there.  it’s not like I’m likely to get either of those things anyway…

my cheekbones feel like they’re radiating ice and, alternately, heat.  I think that gets to be my special side effect.  oh well.