The NOISE NOISE NOISE!

Between the running of the 100 year old toliet and the tenor, I presently have the loudest apartment it all the land.

In which our authoress considers if she is fit to live with others

So I take in borders from time to time.Largely to clear some bills, but also to face my hermit issues. I was talking to friend last night who works for the parks department. He feels the fact that he works outside all day in interaction with others prevents him from falling into bad love affairs. He says he meets new people constantly, singles, family's, little kids , dogs. And then when he comes home to lonely apartment , he is blissful with the isolation. He doesn't have a single pang of craving others. His out look is very familiar.

I gratefully and happily take care of others all through out my day in one way or another. When its me time, I wear it like comfy sweater. Its not that I don't want to be with others, I just don't often have that NEEED to be with you people. When I do get that view of desperation for company, I start looking at what is missing in my larger life issues.

So I have this border right now who is perfectly pleasant. He is a friend of a friend, a tenor in town for the month for auditions and such. But he is getting to me. First of all its that recollection of what it is like to be with theater people. His personality is looming. He needs to be seen as entertaining and knowledgeable at all times. He seems until noon. I wake up 7ish now I am a grownup. This means I tip toe around my place half the day not wanting to disturb him. He does not go out much because he doesn't have much money. So he stays in his room and watches TV. It makes me self conscious. He turns on all the lights and then forgets to turn them off. He leaves my favorite coffee cups at the edges of bookshelves and tables, waiting for gravity to smash them into a million bits.

Am I sure I am ready to date again and have to potentially share my cave?

Um, ah, do we have to do this now?

I just got off the phone with Mom. As faithful readers may recall, she was in town a couple of days ago to get some doctors time in. Part of which was the regular checking that one does not have breast cancer thing that all good girls must do after a certain age. She got the call today that she does not have cancer but her breast implants are leaking and need to be taken out now.

Kind of numb presently because I sort of don't feel like going through this. My Mom got the implants back when I was in middle school. She is a classically beautiful petite woman. But she never felt that way. And though she never said it ,I always felt it did not help to have a daughter whose boobs were bigger than hers by the time the kid was 11. What can I say, different grandmothers. Have I not had moments when I Would have killed puppy's to fit into her size 4 pants? But I felt this unspoken guilt about my chest causing her to feel bad about her self.

Then she had a bad reaction, started bleeding internally. Had to go back to the hospital. Chief memory of that was my father falling on the floor sobbing in terror and self hatred that he might lose her and that it was his fault for not being able to get it into her brain that how amazing she was. I had to take care of him while she was in surgery. Was sort of a peak moment of awareness that I was not having a Brady childhood.

So now the fun bags are poisoning her. She is searching for doctors.Waiting for people to call her back. And instead of expressing fear or worry, all she can talk about are her obligations to her various causes. And my father. She has not told my father yet because she does not want to worry him. Just my aunt and I know. Again. Leave the men out. Don't let them support you.Don't count on them.And she is considering getting replacements!!!! She is 75 friggin years old and she is talking about loss of physical self esteem if she doesn't have fake tits.

I can't even begin to know where to approach this at the moment.

Books to consider not reading

Just finished Schultz, the hit bio from last year about the author of the Peanuts. Ends up he was depressed, deeply insecure man, incapable of hugging his children until he knew he was dying, got back at his first wife by basing Lucy on her, and never believed that anyone loved or liked him.

Snoopy seems tainted .

What does this add to?

Spent most of the day with Mom. Mom only comes into town now for doctor's appointments but trys to make a proper visit out of it. So she catches up with a couple of friends, does a museum, eats food that my father won't . It's a full 24 hours but a mostly cheerful one.

So much of our time now is spent on what is wrong and how does one make it better. She thinks much of the time in terms of the logical. For example we are figuring out how one could resign the downstairs so my father wouldn't be so isolated. Good practical stuff.

She wants to know I am not to feel overloaded with my parents needs.I share that most of the time it's not them that is the problem, its my issues with my brother and sister in law. Using the busyness of their lives, they have all but dropped out of anything to do with the care of my folks. They are not even coming to Christmas this year, largely because my sister in law redecorated the first floor this summer and wants to celebrate her construction crews skills.

When we were growing up and things were bad, my brother's survival skill was to leave. Pre-drivers licence, he would go up to his room , turn on the stereo to some sensitive white rocker ala Springsteen/Seeger, and block out the pain the floor below was producing. When he did get to drive, he was just gone. It probably is what kept him sane. I felt abandoned. It was only about 5-7 years ago that I realised in a shrinks office that my unavailable man issues don't all stem from my dad.

Now he is half way across the country being the good family man. No one can blame him since he is being so kind and responsible to his brood. Except that there are days like today when my mother doesn't have proper eye glasses for one reason or another,is walking around in her perspiration shades looking like Jackie O sister, and I have to read her everything so she can function. That my dad has a self pity fit on the phone, wants her to cut her day of NYC re cooperation so that he doesn't feel lonely. That I have to take care of all this kind of regressive stuff and I have no peer to talk to about it.

He never calls or writes except for something like sending a holiday/birthday wish list for his daughters. He doesn't want to know about the bad stuff. Never has. Sometimes I feel so stuck and lonely and there is so little room for change.

Meanwhile today I got an email from Fresh Direct. It seems that a quote of mine in a survey about their service will be used in an advertisement. So the world is acknowleding me for my greatness somewhere.

Contrasting intincts = brain hurt

I was watching Christane Northrup on the PBS special that they always seem to show at pledge time. But now that is always seems to be a constant state of pledge time, how is one to know the difference? But I digress. Northrup is a doctor for all things women parts and is wise, kind and seems to have an handle on aging being a positive thing. She quotes my first coaching teacher throughout the show. And even though I have some left over baggage about that particular woman ( like her claim that mental illness, drug addiction, homosexuality are all choices that a person makes to keep life interesting....) ,Northrup has a way of editing out the crazy stuff and recalling the mind blowing -life change goodies.

She talked about the capacity to receive, in particular pleasure. Most women of a certain age and younger suck at this. We are motivated towards self creation, discipline, good work ethic. We give tons. We do not get this receive thing at all. And if one does not know how to receive , one will attract those who do not know how to give. ( Insert appropriate sound affect of recognition. )

I would like to declare that I am sick of being broke while being responsible. I am sick of things in my home breaking and my being scared about how I am going to fix said things. I am good at what I do,damn good. I deserve to have a level of abundance. But even writing this makes my stomach twitch. I am a do-gooder wasp. While I am a capitalist, I am a thrift store one. There is all this baggage about asking for more from the Gods. Or even those who know me. I am considering doing a very simple mailing to those who know me to push for additional clients, and it makes me so scared. Not about succeeding, but how I will come off. Abrasive, aggressive,unfeminine, self involved.

Oh they raised me right those kin of mine!

Update

I had not realised how long it has been since I wrote here .Almost a week for goodness sake.Was up doing the holiday/parent upkeep thing. Being up in the country in their home always seems to produce a sort of Narnia like quality for me.Meaning that I step through the door and my reality is briefly left behind to be fully in their world, full well knowing that my life will be ready for me as soon as I step out the door again. It requires a certain level of faith and letting go of control.

Nothing dramatic to report from the visit. I thought I would do a little gratitude list from the trip,sort of an overview .

I am grateful that.......The pies I cooked turned out well and helped kill so bad politics happening in the land of co-housing.

That the weather was still nice enough for for proper walks and observations about holiday fishermen and ducks.

The dog choose to sleep with me every night I was there.

That dad has discovered YouTube.That for how ever awful he know feels , he has discovered new music he loves, including a strange infatuation with Jerry Lee Lewis.

That Mom and I are so friggin healthy, at least emotionally together. That we can look back on the ugly teen years and not have them overwhelm us with a case of the yucks any more. That she didn't marry an actor.

The watching of the parade and a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving still gives high levels of joy.

The purchase of a potential very cool gift for my younger niece, an interlocking block puzzle of paintings of classic beautiful red headed women.She may not get it now, but hopefully she will see images of her self someday.

That I have been able to put aside my angry and resentment of my brother for 8 minutes or so to send him 2 birthday presents, a Lucinda Williams live album and a book of unfinished Tolkien story's, that are too cool for school and given with love. I can pick up my nasty feelings at the door later.


That Mom wrapped up containers of turkey and rocking spiced mashed potatoes so I could eat them when I came home. No cooking or take out for Suz last night.

That I came home to find my home clean ,safe , warm and friendly. That I had made the smart move of tidying up before I left so I would have such an environment. That my so to be 16 year old cats were pleased to see me, desiring my affection and attention, but not anxious or neurotic.

That I got my ass out of the house last night, ran to the store so that I would have strong coffee, milk and cereal this morning.

That I woke up to the sound of rain on the air conditioner, feeling safe and content. How amazingly happy I am at about my life this morning.


And flannel pajamas.May we never forget the wonders of warm jammies.