Archive for March, 2006

It was an accident!

March 31, 2006 at 5:02 pm · Filed under Dreams

I have to figure out a way to get these down in the morning, before they fade.

I was in a two person hot tub. I was naked, and as I looked around at all of the other hottubs near by, all of those people had bathing suits on. Behind me, everyone was leaving the highschool dance. Carrie, Sara, they were all there. They had on red dresses, and were laughing and flirting with their boyfriends (John, Paul, Chris…)as they left to go to the parking lot. I tried to be so nonchalant about being naked… like I KNEW I was naked, and had planned it that way. I was embarrassed, though, ashamed of my nakedness and my body.

Then I was in my car from high school. An early 1970’s baby blue Ford Galaxy 500. My current co-worker was in the front seat, and my buddy Marc was in the back. We were driving down the highway, and it was snowy and slippery. The car completely lost power, but kept moving, then the power came back on. I said to my coworker and Marc “There’s something wrong with the car” and as I said that, we were going under an overpass, and the car died again. We must have flipped, because the next thing I knew, we were on the embankment, and Old Blue was upside down on her roof. My coworker’s husband had arrived on the seen, as had a cop. I kept asking coworker’s husband if I could use his cell phone to call DTE, (it was a very large, old fashioned cell phone) and no one answered when I called home. I was kind of embarrased that he got there so quickly, and DTE wasn’t even home.

We had to follow the cop to this building where we had to wait in line to talk to a judge, and some social workers. Coworker’s husband was drawing pictures of icy cold mugs of beer, foam sliding down the side, and asking me “How many of these did you drink?!” I realized he was trying to get me arrested for drunk driving, and was implying I was an alcoholic. I panicked, and went to one of the social workers and said “That guy is lying! Tell him to stop!” So the SW went to him and told him he couldn’t bother me like that; that he had to wait until the judge decided if I was an alcoholic or not, and that AA is anonymous so he should leave me alone anyway. The dream ended then, but the gist was – HE was the one in trouble for saying those things about me. I said to coworker “I’m sorry!”, not for the accident, but for getting her husband in trouble with the AA leader/Social worker. And I remember a horrible feeling in my stomach that the judge would decide I was an alcoholic, and how in the hell could I ever possibly give up drinking, because I enjoy it so much?
Hmmm, not sure I like the messages of this dream! Anyone have a better interpretation for me?

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Puddlewump

March 31, 2006 at 4:46 pm · Filed under GMan

Yesterday was Gman’s birthday. I get very sentimental on the kids’ birthdays. I spend the day happy, remembering how I spent it 12 years ago…

I woke up at 5:58 a.m. on March 29, 1994 with a start. I sat upright, looked at the clock next to the bed, and realized my water had broken. I told DTE, and my mom, who was staying with us until the baby came. I went downstairs in my pj’s and robe, and my mom made me some Cream of Wheat, and I drank some o.j. I was nervous, and excited. We called the midwife, and she told us to just hang out at home until the contractions got to be a certain amount apart. We lived about 45 minutes away from the hospital where I was going to deliver, and I was nervous about getting there on time.

HA!

By early afternoon there were some contractions happening, and I insisted that DTE take his two kids (who were visiting from WI) over to our friend’s house to hang out until I had the baby and DTE could pick them up again.

HA! HA!

We then drove to the hospital, and I remember sitting in the waiting room of the ER watching the t.v. One of those godawful shows was on… could it have possibly been Donahue back then? All I remember is it was one of the talk shows where everyone was so confrontational. I hate those shows. I was relieved when we got to go up to the birthing room so we could proceed with the nice little birth.

As things picked up, it got more intense. I was able to sit in a hot tub for a while, and that helped a lot. I eventually asked for something for the pain because it really hurt! I took some sort of pill; I have no idea what it was but I don’t recall that it helped at all. I was bored, sick of just sitting around waiting, with all eyes on me. Everytime DTE would rub my back it made the contractions stronger, so I hated that. Everytime I went to the bathroom it made the contractions stronger, so I hated that. I was pretty much resisting any feeling that would actually accomplish the one thing I wanted done – birth that baby! I remember laying on the bed, thinking “if I could just go to sleep, when I wake up the baby will be here. Why don’t they just do a c-section, then it can be all over.”

After a long time… I don’t know when it was… maybe around 10 or 11 p.m.?… my doctor came in. She looked at me and said “We need to get these contractions going! I want to put you on Pitocin”. “No! It will hurt!” I whined. She looked at me with this withering glance, and said “Of COURSE it’s going to hurt! You’re having a baby!”

Because I was going to be on pitocin I had to go to the “regular” labor and delivery room, and I had to give up my beautiful birthing room. I felt like a failure, because I didn’t just have the stupid baby in the nice room, because I couldn’t just DO this thing.

We got up to that room, and were met by the new nurse. She was wonderful, so full of energy and positive attitude. She just kept saying “Good!” and “Great!” and “OH, that was a good one!” for all of my contractions. I think my mom and DTE and the midwife were almost scared of me. Meanwhile, I had been absolutely petrified. This nurse just came in and took charge. She got me more actively invovled with the process.

DTE would say to me over and over “Breathe, Mag, just breathe!” I told him weeks later that if he EVER said “just breathe” to me again I would have to kill him.

So, then came the pushing, and that all went pretty well, but I was pretty sure the kid was stuck. The doctor, the nurse, DTE, my mom… they all kept telling me to push, to push harder – but damn, I was pushing with all of my might! The kid was stuck! There was just no way a skull that size was going to fit through my pelvis. I was imagining them having to do surgery to pull out the baby, and having to break my pelvis because it was wedged in there.

Then the doctor said the horrible E word. Mind you, I had wanted a “natural” childbirth. At first I was going to have the baby at home. Then I consented to the hospital, only because I could use the midwife and the birthing room. So there I was, with pitocin dripping in my arm, a baby monitor strapped to my belly, in a hospital bed – doing it all the wrong way – and she actually suggests an episiotomy?! She followed the statement with the magic words though. “You can keep pushing for a couple hours, or we can do the episiotomy and have the baby out within 30-45 minutes.”

“Get it out!” is what I so delicately replied.

And sure enough, she was right, and the little shit finally unwedged himself and consented to leave his wonderful mommy and come out to this world. 7:39 a.m. March 30, 1994.

Puddlewump

I had always thought at that moment I would feel an incredible surge of love, that I would want my baby placed in my arms and I would weep tears of joy.

Wrong again. They placed him in my arms, and I looked at him, studied him, and then he squawked that wonderful, deep, craggy baby cry that only newborns can do. I said to him “don’t cry little baby” (like that would help) and then I thought “shit! I don’t know what he wants! How will I ever do this?” The nurse took him back, or my mom, I don’t know. DTE, my mom and the nurse took him off to weigh him and bathe him and all those other newborn things they do. And instead of feeling all the longing, the love, etc, I just felt relief. Relief that finally I had my body back. I was no longer a pregnant person -baby first, me just the vessel. I felt wonderfully hollow in my stomach.

I chatted with the doctor as she stiched me up, and thought nary a thing about the baby.

I was taken back to my room and had some breakfast (french toast) and coffee. I hadn’t been able to even tolerate the smell of cofee in someone else’s cup while I was pregnant, and I was thrilled that just be the process of having my body returned to me, I could drink coffee again!

Life was good.

It wasn’t until a week later, when the kids went home, and my mom and dad went home, and it was just me, the baby Puddlewump, and DTE, that I actually relaxed a bit, and got to know him. I looked at him, I fed him, I held him, I smelled him, I kissed him, and I loved him. I fell hard for that baby then. I fell head over heels in love with him and I still am. Happy Birthday, GMan. I love you.

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Dreamin’

March 29, 2006 at 6:31 pm · Filed under Dreams

I have my share of obvious dreams. Not being able to find my locker in high school, or forgetting the combination. Running late for my French test, only to discover that I’ve missed the whole semester, and how am I ever going to find the classroom, much less take the test and pass it… and oh my god, how embarassing to face the prof.

I also have a fair amount of funny, odd dreams. I love to think about them in the morning, when I’m still half in them; I savor them. I thought it would be fun to make up interpretations for them. For now I’ll just keep a record of them.

Two nights ago I dreamt I was in a small bank, working behind the counter with Jake Gyllenhall. I was sitting on a tall stool. He was very flirtatious, and it was fun goofing around and laughing. Apparently the bank was closed, because then we went through a door to a small apartment and stretched out on his futon.

I had another dream last night, that involved Paris Hilton living in my old house. Our family portrait was still on the wall in the large living room with the shag carpeting. I don’t remember what else happened, but my mom and dad were there, and my uncle. And then something involving a ferris wheel. That’s what happens when you don’t think about your dreams enough; you forget the “logical” parts and only remember certain glimpses, or feelings, or images.

I think someone could make a fortune telling me what those dreams mean.

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Thank god for books or I would have died of boredom this weekend.

March 26, 2006 at 4:46 pm · Filed under Books, daily nothingness

Some weekends just aren’t that great. This was one of them.

The highlight of the weekend was going to the library. There is nothing like the excitement of having an armful of books, all waiting to be opened and perused. Lucy and I sat at a table in the children’s section and happily read while DTE browsed through the cd section.

We went swimming with the kids on Saturday afternoon, and then make the trek to Target, in search of this ugly pair of shoes that Lucille must have. We didn’t find them, and we left the store with Lucy in tears. Not over the shoes, but because she wanted this stupid Kelly doll that I refused to buy her. Ahhhh, good times.

Today was also boring. DTE woke up as crabby as all get out, for no reason I could figure. I decided to make this bread called Povitica that I saw in a catalogue. I found a recipe on line, and spent the rest of the day on and off making it. In the end… DTE and GMan like it, I think it is just ok. Definately not worth the time I spent on it.

I did read a few books this weekend:

Edward R. Murrow and The Birth of Broadcast Journalism, by Bob Edwards.

This is a short book, but gives all the highlights of Murrow’s career. I especially liked the part on Murrow’s reporting before and during WWII.

Odd Girls and Twighlight Lovers: A History of Lesbian Life in Twentieth Century America by Lillian Faderman

I read Faderman’s Surpassing the Love of Men in college, and may have even used it as a resource in one of many papers I wrote (which really served as a grand herstory lesson for me; I loved “learning” lesbianism as much as I loved my girlfriend.) I found parts of Odd Girls to be fairly similar to Surpassing the Love of Men, until she got to the section on the 80’s to present. It’s funny what time does to perspective. I felt as though I were reading a history of myself, and I had always thought that what I was “doing” back then was so specific to me… and yet I was very much a part of a larger whole. I’ll probably examine this in more detail later. (This is one of the things I like about having this weblog. I love examining my life and trying to put it into context.)

Right now I’m in the middle of Murrow: his life and times by A.M. Sperber. This is a massive tome with incredible detail. It gives all the juicy details that I love in biographies.

I’m also reading Johnny Cash, The Life of an American Icon, by Stephen Miller. When I’m done with these two books hopefully I can put to rest my movie-induced obsessions. (Oh, one of the cd’s DTE got from the library was Diane Reeves. She sings in Good Night and Good Luck. And also good news, I found my Walk The Line cd! )

It is interesting reading about two such different people, and the contributions they made to American society during some of the same time period. I get so absorbed in, say, Johnny Cash’s life in the 50’s, and I think I “know” his life then. So to round it out, it’s cool to also have the context of Murrow’s life during that same time span. Alright, I’m a dork.

One last book I started, just so I could have a quick read, is Sex, Murder, and Double Latte, by Kyra Davis. It sounded “lite”… and it is. I have a feeling I may not finish it.

One other cool thing I stumbled upon this weekend. The real reason I wanted all the books about Edward Murrow is because I found myself really intrigued by the characters from Good Night and Good Luck played by Robert Downey Jr. and Patricia Clarkson. They played real life couple Joseph and Shirley Wershba. So – get this – Shirley Wershba writes occassionally for a website. Too cool. I wish someone would write a book about her!

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One Middle Finger Up

March 24, 2006 at 3:53 pm · Filed under Books, Film

I’m sure you’ve noticed that I finally updated my book list to the right. I think I need to remove One Hundred Years of Solitude because let’s face it, it’s just not happening.

I have decided to quit pretending that all I read are “good” books, because to be honest, I read tons of crap, too. I will read just about anything fictional at all. Except for the Janet Evanovich books that she writes with her friend. Those are just too awful (they sound like I wrote them. Yeah, not good.)

I also got to thinking about the crap movies I have seen (and how many of them I like). It has always been my dream to write book reviews and movie reviews… so look out, internet, I am making one of my dreams come true! (Now if I could only get Brett Favre to take me out to dinner…or at least give me tickets on the 50 yard line for a home game that he play in and wins. Maybe I’ll have to write about that too, to make it a reality.) OK, back to reviews:

To recap previous movies I have mentioned:

Brokeback Mountain. Loved it. A few people have said to me that they though the film was slow in parts, and I am willing to concede that. An argument could be made for the necessity of each scene, but frankly, the book (ahem, SHORT STORY) was able to convey all that the movie did, and more, with way fewer “scenes”. I loved it anyway though. Something about the drudgery (and anxiety and fear) of everyday life, broken up with few, intense times of beauty and secrecy. Going away to a place so large and majestic – was it the relationship, the love, that seemed so big, or the physical surroundings? Having these moments of beauty that sustain you through the daily shit. And the pain and irony that the beautiful part of life is then killed by others, seen as the bad and wrong part of life…

The Pink Panther. Loved it. I laughed so hard that I had to make myself stop for fear of making a scene in the theater. It was such a dumb movie. What is it about watching idiots that makes me laugh? The only other times I have laughed as hard have been when I was watching Reno 911, or telling a joke that only I seem to understand.

The Constant Gardner. Well, I have loved Ralph Fiennes since I saw him in The English Patient. He is a damn good actor, but what really impressed me was Rachel Weisz. I think she should have won the best actress Oscar. I loved Reese Witherspoon in Walk The Line (read below) but Weisz’s portrayal was more complex. Her character had different facets to her life : the dogmatic grad student, the laughing, sensual lover, the wife who effortlessly mingled with government officials, the kind woman who cared for the people in Africa, the woman who, broken at the loss of her pregnancy still has the tenacity to see, and feel for, and fight for, others around her. I was depressed at the end of the movie, because not only is it horrifying the things that are done to “disposable” people by money-hungry corporations, but also because I never do anything important with my life. I live the easy life, and the movie made me feel embarrased at the abudance that I have in my life while not giving back in some way.

Good Night and Good Luck. It was o.k. I liked that it was in black and white. We’re actually going to rewatch it tonight to see if we pick up on anything more. The first time we watched it, my mother yakked through the first part of it (and it is a quiet movie) and I was half asleep through the second half. DTE slept through the entire movie.

I’m going to have to work on book reviews tomorrow. I’ll also have to come up with some sort of rating system. Maybe I should add television reviews, too… ha! I’m feeling excited about something! Haven’t felt that way since Christmas morning!

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Random Snippits From My Week

March 24, 2006 at 3:31 pm · Filed under daily nothingness

My coworker’s mother is in the hospital. She (the mother) drinks “a lot” (the word alcoholic may have been uttered once or twice). She had some surgery on her back, and I overheard my coworker talking on the phone to her brother. “Right after the surgery when she was coming to, it was weird. Her eyes were rolling back in her head. Kind of reminded me of how things used to be.”

My coworker is one of the most sensitive and gentle people I know. She frets so about her parents, and is so caring of them. That one sentence, spoken to her brother who shared that past…I don’t know, it just said a lot to me about what she has gone through growing up, and made me all the more aware of what it means for her to be the way she is now.

*****

I was talking to someone about the sex ed her daughter was getting this year in 5th grade. She told me how glad she was that her daughter was getting a Christian education, because that meant they were teaching the kids abstinence until marriage. I wondered, do all non-Christian people encourage sex before marriage? I mean, what the fuck kind of statement is that? I guess I don’t pressure my kids to get married… maybe that’s what’s unchristain of me? I should have asked her. What a dip.

******

I used to have this friend with whom I was very close. It was a brief friendship, but intense. We would talk for hours about everything. After a while he kind of bugged me, but I made excuses for his weirdness. I haven’t talked to him for a number of months, so I emailed him a few days ago. When he wrote back, he was still completely weird. Freakishly weird, in fact. So, I feel good that my instincts were right (finally) and I don’t need to feel bad about that relationship dying.

******

GMan had a big Social Studies project due today. He came home and told me proudly that he got an A. I’m proud too, of course. But he reminds me of me in a scary way. Honestly, he does the least amount of work possible to get by, and he still pulls off A’s. It drives me crazy! (I was the same way in college.) He literally worked on this project’s research for 20 minutes one night, and then did the actual art work and display in another 30 minutes. This morning I made him go and color it in with colored pencils just so it looked like he spent SOME time on it. Jeez! I don’t know if I should be proud that it comes so easy for him, or tr to get him to do more. He goes to a very good school, so it’s not like they’re not expecting much. I don’t know… opinions, anyone?

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The Day The Music Died

March 23, 2006 at 5:28 pm · Filed under my life

Can anyone tell me what happened to my Walk The Line soundtrack cd? I’m starting to think someone stole it because maybe they were sick of me listening to it over and over and over. I have other Johnny cd’s to play in the interim, but none of them have the cool duet with June singing “Jackson”. (“I’m goin’ to Jackson” “See if I care!”)

If anyone finds it, please let me know.

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Freaks and Geeks

March 23, 2006 at 5:25 pm · Filed under my life

Name calling isn’t nice, I know. BUT…

today I was in a room with this woman that I really don’t like very much. I’ve only dealt with her on the phone, never in person, but she’s been a work acquaintance for close to 10 years. She looked like, well, let’s just say she looked exactly like her personality. Grim. Bitchy. Annoying. (Yes, a person can look annoying.) If a person can be a color, I’d say she was grey. Gloomy Grey.

She was in the room with me, and a married couple. The wife seemed like a neat woman, she was talking about being at some meeting, and/or donating some money, and/or putting in some time, at some type of women’s shelter. She was an open, friendly, and engaging woman, and obviously one with my politics. I’d call her orange. Ha. I am so quick to judge.

So they get into this conversation about the 110 acres of property that Gloomy Grey’s father owns, and how she likes to hunt up there. With her .357. WHAT? Orange regales us with the tale of how her husband (Mr. Beige… blended right in with the walls and never said anything) bought her her own gun for her last birthday. Grey tops that tale with how she has a permit to “carry concealed” and how she stood up to two drunk guys with rifles on her land who were poachers. She just moved her coat to show them her weapon, and then I guess they thought her weapon was bigger than theirs, and then they…..

Orange looked at me and said “Honey! Are you ok?” She thought I was freaked out or scared. I wasn’t, I was just amazed. Appalled. Shocked. I didn’t know they made people like this in the real world, I thought these kind of people were all on tv or in mystery novels.

What sort of freaks are they? I know I sounded all stupid, but I just blurted out “I have kids!” like that was my main reason for not having a gun. God… I wish I could have come up with something better than that, but I was still dumbstruck at the conversation that had been going on. Who carries guns? Why? Orange isn’t a hunter, why does she need a gun? Why does Grey need to “carry concealed”, is it to better surprise the deer? I told them I’d make sure to never drive anywhere in the county where their property is without wearing my bullet proof vest. Freaks.

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How Much Is That Doggie In the Window?

March 21, 2006 at 8:35 am · Filed under daily nothingness

What is the thought process, exactly, that goes behind a boble head dog in the rear of one’s car?

Honey, look, it’s a god! And its head wobbles! WOW! I know, let’s put it somewhere that everyone else in the world can enjoy, also!

Oh, but, dear… what abou this adorable teddy bear holding an American flag? Wouldn’t THAT be cute?

Oh,yes! Wait, I know! We can strap the flag wielding fuzzy wuzzy bear on the back our our Honda Goldwing! And then, I’ll climb into the back of our Buick LeSabre and put the cutesy wutesy doggie there.

Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s how it goes.

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The Nature of the Beast

March 20, 2006 at 5:57 pm · Filed under Whining, my life

I am in one of my most foul moods ever. The scary part is that no one even really knows it. There’s just so much blackness inside of me, and there is no one to whom I can explain it. I know what set me off, I keep rolling it around in my head… was it because she said this, was it because she didn’t say this? I poke and prod the wound, testing it…Is it because he hasn’t done this? Why do I care? Is it the fact that I care that makes me so angry, so full of hate, so full of fear? I am afraid all the time, when I am really honest about it. I am afraid of being found out. Fearful of being exposed for what I really am.

I want to do what I always try to do when I’m feeling this way. I want to withdraw. I want to hide. I want to talk to no one. I want to see no one.

And NO, it doesn’t help to know that I have a wonderful husband, a good job, a home, food, two great kids. I’m still the ugly bad person, I still feel horrible. I feel even more horrible knowing I have these good things in my life and I am incapable of having them help.

I just don’t care.

How can there still be this much darkness in me when I take my antidepressants, I am exercising more than I ever have in my life, I am eating healthy? Why do I have all this anger, why do I have these needs, these never ending fucking needs? Why do I feel this way?

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