journeys of a restless mind

post-thanksgiving stress syndrome

Here is Miss Kimberly, our gracious hostess for Thanksgiving, suffering from that malady known as Post-Thanksgiving Stress Syndrome, aka extreme sleepiness brought about by wine, turkey and many hours spent cooking.  That chair she's relaxing in is extremely comfortable; it sits near the fireplace, and sitting in it is like an embrace. 

It has been wonderful being Kimberly's (and Paul's) neighbor these past seven months.  Kimberly and I started reading each other's blogs a little over two years ago.  We appeared to be kindred spirits, and when we realized we lived less than a mile from each other we decided to meet.  A friendship was born, my first blog-to-real-life relationship.  When I was apartment hunting last Spring she mused that it would be great if Hijo and I could move into those apartments right across the street.  When I left her house and walked to my car, I noticed a "for rent" sign in the window of those very apartments.  In the time since we've been neighbors, we've gone to BlogHer together, she cooked in my kitchen while hers was being remodeled, I helped tear out lath and pull up linoleum for said remodeling.  I'm the culprit mentioned in this post. 

I don't even think I can write what I really want to say because little pieces of my heart are just breaking off and crumbling when I think of how much I will miss having this physical proximity to her.  I can see the light in her office window when she is there at her computer.  She knows what time I go to bed.  She is a self-possessed and calm counterpoint to my insecurities and expressiveness.  She has been through more than I can imagine.  I have eaten her delicious cooking, heard her play her violin, and listened as she analyzed a building under construction.  I have drunk (and photographed) many a cup of coffee with her.

The friendship started online, and so now will continue (mostly) online.  I won't be able to look out my front window and see her house anymore, but I know she will be there, and for now, that has to be enough.

In all the excitement 'round these parts I completely forgot to mention that my four year blogiversary was on the 19th. 

In other news, I am more than a wee bit happy to report that Hijo's dad starts work at his new job on Monday.  Now there's something to be thankful for.

Each day of these last couple of weeks has seemed like three or four.  I got the notice that our apartment building was being converted to condos on Halloween night.  In the three weeks since, the shape of my life has changed radically.  Here's the most amazing part:  I can't drink coffee anymore.  At least not like I did.  Now that I have some natural, real energy,  I don't need the chemical kind.  If I try to drink even half of what I normally would in a sitting, I get so overstimulated that I have to shake it off.  I remarked once that I was living an existence that I had to drug myself to endure.  Well, I'm not living that existence anymore.

Here it is stated plainly:  I am moving to Port Townsend not only to interweave myself and my son into a community that more closely reflects me and my values, but also to persue a writing career.  Let me say that again.  I am persuing a writing career. 

I feel like a real human being again for the first time in years.   A completely insane human being a lo mejor, but a human being nonetheless.

Today was a day of magnificent clouds, pale green whitecapped waves, and mountains.  Mountains always loomed there in the distance, touched by fog or snow, flanked with thick rows of stiff-needled firs.  They faded in and out of view, the wind blowing down from them suddenly cold and smelling of ice.

Last night Phil and I walked in the dark a long way.  First, down the hill along the sidewalks, then over the freeway and into town.  On the way back,  after a stop for hot chocolate, the wind began to gust hard enough to blow off my hat.  It made me laugh to be outside, my body touched by something other than a soft cushion and incandescent light.  I thought I'd wake up sore today, but I didn't.

Returning to yourself feels like calm water after it's been whipped by wind.  The churning changing colors vanish and become still; your surface smooth, reflecting only the sky.

the scoop

1. I have decided that with the many crazy life-changing things going on in my world right now, it is best to let the fame, fortune, and valuable prizes that NaBloPoMo promised-- should I finish--go.
2. I had the extreme pleasure this morning of giving notice to eVil Corporation.   I have been toiling away as an office drone in this toxic environment for almost seven years.  I may never again make as much money (which wasn't really even that much), nor have as nice a view, but I am thrilled at the prosect of shaping my life differently.
3. The new gig!  I've been teasing everyone with talk of this new gig and I haven't put out any juicy stuff.  Here's the deal:  starting tomorrow I will have a weekly column as Seattle editor for ModernMom in their spanking new City Guides section.  If you are in the area and know of any cool, quirky, essential, or just plain fun things that the city has to offer, drop me a line so I can check it out.   

Updated for clarification:  The new gig is a freelance one, and isn't enough to support myself and Hijo with.  It's terribly exciting to add another paid job to my writing experiences.  And of course I'm still posting five times a week over at Diary of a Single... for the fine folks at Club Mom. 

Cannon Beach, August 2005

the towel, is she being thrown?

I think I might have to bow out gracefully of this NaBloPoMo madness.  I have way too much going on in my life right now to be adding one more challenge (I got another paid writing gig, for one).  Yet here I am at seven minutes to midnight, rushing to get in a post before I turn into a pumpkin.

I'm not addicted to blogging, it's not coffee.  I can stop anytime I want.

Updated to add:  Dear lord, people, don't let me get away with major embarrassing typos just because I'm blogging under pressure late at night!  "Towell" has now been corrected to "towel."

things in my neighborhood that I will miss (part one)

The jack-o-lantern from Halloween is still sitting on our front stoop, its grin going slowly from goofy to gruesome as it gets moldy.  The little black and white kitten that our downstairs neighbors adopted has run away.  And everywhere great quantities of soggy leaves: imprinting their outline on the  windshield of my car, stopping up the street drains, hiding the sidewalk under their slick colorful husks.

My view is expanding.  I can see more sky. 

Some things that you think are going to rip your heart out, don't.  You realize you were moving towards them all along, and it's OK.  You won't be diminished without your foiliage.  You will just be more bare, your bones and branches visible.  You will be the pencil line on the paper that lies beneath the paint.

yellow leaf/red leaf