the best three glasses of wine ever

it began as a business meeting, sort of.

we were catching up. i was with a dear sweet friend of mine who carries such profound and devastating sadness after losing her husband out of the blue one December midnight, that I feel blessed and quite giggly in my own tragic love stories which include a suicidal boyfriend (no really, a boyfriend whose body I found after he COMMITTED SUICIDE), a boyfriend who was falsely accused of very bad things (by a very bad ex wife) and a boyfriend who had so many secrets and a very bad temper.

it began with a hug and a greeting and a story or seven and continued just long enough to order a third glass of wine and for me to wish we just lived together, like college roomies, who could make some pancakes at midnight (from bisquick) and watch the bachelor on amazon prime later. but then SOMEone would have to clean the bathrooms or pay the electric bill. even college roomies have to face reality some days.

I do hope to see her at least 15 times in my six months solo, because she teaches me things. like:

get a career coach

get a good therapist

use cool apps like voxer and bubblie

and take note. when someone reveals their dark side--when they show their ass, let down their guard and expose their dark underbelly--when they overreact, explode even briefly, act out of character...take note.

and suddenly we were finishing a third glass of wine. that is ALMOST one glass too many for this chick.

so much fun. so real. so perfectly placed in this scary six months of "what does one do when one is not being pursued or kept prisoner..."

ahhh. i get it. one discovers the friends who have so much wisdom and simple goodness to offer. and one has a third glass of wine just to stay a bit longer and learn a bit more.

the quiet is loud

I'm intimidated by it.

The loud is much easier.

maybe the real problem is that we do not want the other person to have a back up plan. it's not that we're jealous, necessarily, of another person--of their looks or their position or the life that they could offer. but maybe its that they could potentially be a back up plan, which makes the other person in the relationship safer than we are. and that puts us at a disadvantage, being the one without a back up plan.

but if what we find in this one good relationship is the one theing we've been looking for all along, what do we do?

am i a sort of person that needs to even the score?

yes

maybe i am.

a competitive nature. a drive to win. the desire to be not the loser. not the weaker. not the one who was made a fool.

maybe.

glue sticks, cake and half a million dollars

Here i am again.

on perspective this time.

there is this card I sent to my dad recently. the front of the card shows two dinosaurs peeking through some bushes, noticing Noah's Ark floating away in deep flood waters, packed to the gills with animals. on the front, one dinosaur is saying to the other "oh crap. was that today?" the inside says, "a bad day is all about perspective."

isn't it though?

isn't every day about perspective? i was making my way through another of my own "bad days" yesterday--a tough one where we were realizing we'd lost two very big dollar opportunities when one client we were courting acquired a marketing agency--which pretty much negated the need to pay US any more. the other opportunity was a project for a huge customer we'd done a ton of work preparing a proposal for. On the day we were to propose, though, HE WAS FIRED.

seriously. so I was thinking, damn! I just can't stand the stress of this day! i can't live like this. I am having a panic attack. that was when my daughter called me (multiple times, as she doesn't grasp the concept of leaving a voicemail and waiting politely for a returned call). when I answered all thin-voiced and tightly gripping my phone she said "mom, i cannot live like this anymore. kate knocked my container of glue sticks out of my hand and now i have lost one. I NO LONGER HAVE EIGHT GLUE STICKS! I CAN ONLY FIND SEVEN... I just can't deal with this kind of stress anymore!"

later that evening, my boyfriend spoke with his mom on the phone, who said something like "this has been a rough day. would you believe that we took volunteer photos today and a few of the volunteers hadn't even done anything more than bake a cake?" I'm not sure she actually said she couldn't live like this anymore, but you get the idea.

It's all about perspective. And maybe acknowledging that my $500k potential loss at work is potentially as important (or trivial) as a glue stick. And a cake. We all have our tragedies, and in our own little movie versions of the world, they are equally devastating.

I will try and remember things like this.

I will also try and remember to put important events in my calendar, like "on tuesday, it's gonna rain. get on the boat."

from 2/1/2012


I think I actually felt him leave.

it was 2ish on Sunday as the girls and I were cleaning up the cookie mess. we were running late to the extended 2pm dropoff at craigs. I was supposed to drop them off at 12 but the baking was taking much longer than we'd planned. I had a handful of crumbs and a bread twist tie and some colored sugar bits in one hand and a papertowel or three in the other, I pedaled open the garbage can he gave us earlier this year. The one that fits perfectly against the kitchen counter because of it's rectangularness and it's shiny brushed metalness that matches the fridge and the stove, the one whose lid bangs into the countertop overhang when we press on the pedal too powerfully. And as it banged open loudly and I sprinkled the contents of my left hand into the bin

something heavy left my body.

At the moment it was just a sense that my life was so much simpler without a boyfriend. It was that brief and breezy. Just: "this morning was easy, no drama, no pressure to be more than cookie baker threesome." And then an exhale of sorts. And then it passed and all noise and chaos resumed in the cleanup.

When kate was born i experienced the same feeling. at the very second she was lifted from me, i felt her spirit leave my body like a thousand birds escaping. everything went briefly silent in the experience of that second, and then all the bright lights and noise of the nicu going to work on her resumed and the feeling was gone.

the sense i felt on sunday was far less intense, but a similar sensation. an exhale of great measure, a feeling of relief--and then sugar cookie sorting and ziplock baggies and crumbs underfoot and girl voices resumed their positions and their need for attention.

I've realized for some time now, that I needed to end the relationship for good. To stop trying to talk him into believing that I loved him, and to instead accept that he was not able to accept the relationship for what I needed it to be right now...love, but from two houses. A family, but not under the same roof just yet. He wanted us to be married and live together in one home and even consider having another child. I kept reminding him I'm forty one. He kept telling me I looked 30. It is hard to break up with someone who keeps telling you how beautiful and young and strong and smart you are. But something inside me kept me wanting this to go very very slowly, and he felt that and fought against it every time we had a disagreement. A discussion about meet up times could easily turn into another conversation about marriage and why he wanted it and why i didn't. If I changed plans or said I needed a night to do laundry and regroup after single parenting all week, he would insist that i didn't love him enough. So I knew that this wasn't the right relationship right now, for a girl still trying to recover from a broken marriage and a broken heart, yet I hung on to save both of us from the sad and lonely.





We had broken up the day before. Well, broken up the way we had a few times in the past. He said he didn't think I wanted to be with him as much as he wanted to be with me. He wanted to marry me. I wasn't ready. He wanted promises, which I felt like I gave him in every other way possible...we loved him, we invited him to just about everything we did, we included him in holidays and our upcoming christmas plans. I had birthday things planned for every night last week. Tickets to David Sedairis, tickets to a broadway show, plans for tilles park carriage ride, even chuck e cheeses was on the list. And I hate chuck e cheeses, but he'd mentioned wanting to try it. But Saturday he said: maybe I'll stay in tonight, I'm just not feeling well. He had canceled our plans the night before too. And on Sunday afternoon he died.

finding cash

carolyn says that if you chant out loud, that you are actually affecting the universe, creating the change that you are wishing to see. something buddhisty she decided to share the other day, and I'll take anything right now. very hungry for words that heal.

for the past few days, I've been chanting: it is over. what's next? this to rid myself of this nagging feeling that this thing that i've recently lost could be found again and brushed off and put back together and life would go on all blissful-like again. as if what i had was so perfect that finding it again and repairing it was my only hope. it was not perfect. and repair is not going to happen, and my sister finally made this so crystal clear to me (thank you sweet sister), but my heart continues to hurt in a strangely physical way as i try to accept this change. this loss. i do wonder how a chest can squeeze so tightly from sadness when it is all in ones head isn't it?

today on my way to work, I changed up the chant: something amazing is going to happen today something amazing is going to happen today something amazing is going to happen today

i had decided that instead on focusing on the "over" part today, that just for a little while, i'd turn a little attention toward the "next"... not necessarily in a "who" kind of way. more of a "what."

--

so because over the weekend i bought a washer and dryer, the plan today was to meet the delivery guys AND my cableman between 3 & 5. (three men. why not?). anyway, washer/dryer called to say they'd be early, and could i come at 12:15? i could. then phone rang again, and cable man called to say in thick brazilian accent: i do come early today, you can meet about 12:15?

something amazing is going to happen today

so i left my office at 11:45 but decided to do a quick errand, stopping by my old bank, back in the safe, clean, storybook neighborhood i just moved from. i have spent a few weeks now, regretting my return to the grittier shaw, where i was certain i'd eventually encounter dangerous criminals and roving gangs because the neighborhood is so different than the pristine lines of houses and perfect lawns neighborhood we'd just spent a year in (and because i'd been burglarized a few times in shaw, but my point is perception here, not past experience). anyway, i ran into the bank in the shiny part of town, to change my address and name on file and before we got started, the bank man said: "you just missed all the excitement. the cops just left; they were everywhere. we had someone trying to get cash from a teller--first trying to pass a bad check, then demanding it. it was pretty intense."

and i thought, wow. this really is amazing. my paradigm just shifted. the shiny part of town has bad guys too? and i just missed a bank hold up? here in pleasantville? maybe shaw is not so gritty afterall.

something amazing may have just happened today?

and i continued home. and when i got there, the brazilian cable guy was on the front porch all tall and dark haired and mysterious looking. or stoned. and i said: i need to put my dog in a room so he doesn't bother you, and i opened the door and called for cash. then i made a joke about him being a terrifying guard dog, so stand back cableman, and then called for him again. then i hollered for him, and then i screamed for him as the realization hit me that he was not in the house. that after i'd let him step out back this morning, and casually reminded my daughters to keep an eye on him (our fence is not yet installed)...that each of us must have looked away just long enough for him to disappear, and nobody noticed this as we locked up and pulled away for school and work.

i don't know my neighbors yet
i will have to tell my kids that their dog is gone
i did not have a collar on him or a chip in him or a fence for godssake

and i ran down the alley a ways calling his name and starting to cry and dialing carolyn. she just always knows what to do. and maybe there was a buddhist chant for getting your cash back? and she said, as she always does: i'll be right there. and i ran out the front door as the cableman looked at me like i was crazy and i said: go ahead, install some more tv, 1,000 channels just isn't enough, and the washer dryer truck pulled up to me running down the sidewalk shouting to a random man on a ladder: have you seen a loose dog? white? no collar? and he said no, and i turned around and about eight houses in the other direction i saw this older woman getting into a car so i ran towards her.

and her eyes went wide and she assumed i was going to rob her, because this is shaw.

but i said please, have you seen a dog running around loose today? i've lost my dog! and she said: what kind of dog is it? and i said a yellow lab. a big yellow lab. and she looked thoughtfully around the inside of her head for a minute and she finally said: does it have white hair? a really big guy? kind and sweet? and i said YES!! THATS HIM!! and she said (way too slowly): there is a man in that house over there and he took him inside after the dog was following a friend of mine who had her dog on a leash (ouch). and the man was going to call lab rescue, oh, i hope he didn't already call them! come on over this way, he's right in here... and she said what is his name? and i said CASH! and suddenly, a lattice gate crackled into bits and my dog came jumping through it and straight into my arms like Lassie returning to Timmy, or Benji rescuing those two rope-tied, gagged children in that sweet little movie from my youth (there's a whole 'nother story there. hog tied, kidnapped children, knives, guns? age-appropriate entertainment anyone?) or Free Willy jumping out to sea. Well not like Free Willy. But was all in slow motion like a movie stunt, and it was amazing.

the man was not home to thank, but i'll go back later today. the woman, her name was millie. when i was little i had a cherished, handmade doll named millie, who disappeared when i went off to college. i've missed her ever since. but now i live across from millie, who helped me find Cash when i was really down and out.

something amazing is going to happen today. wait for it....wait for it.....

bye bye blackbird

tonight at about 6, after we’d gotten home from crazy busy days and girls were doing homework and I was back on-line with emails and spreadsheets, kate asked me if she could light a duraflame log in our fireplace. I said she could and watched (with one eye) as she place the log just right in the fireplace and struck a long fireplace match to light it up. and then she stood back a few feet and blew out the match as the flames in the fireplace started to get strong and warm and bright.

and then? she screamed at the top of her lungs as if she’d seen, well, a blackbird fly directly out of the fireplace and straight towards her head. and then she started running around in circles and screaming OMIGOD THERE’S A BIRD THERE’S A BIRD IN HERE!! and then abby screamed ohmygodthere’sabirdinhere!!! and then I screamed OMYGODTHERE’SABIRDINHERE?!!!! and then cash screamed, and i’m pretty sure I heard “holyshitIdobelievethere’sabirdinhere!”

a small bit of chaos ensued. a blackbird took total control of my home. it had flown right down the chimney through the fire and into my house (luckily, it was not on fire itself, as that may have created a slightly larger problem for me).

so there was the screaming and the running around and the flapping of wings and dogs and kids and then there were three girls huddled together in a bathroom screeching til one of them realized she was the only grown up in the vicinity and must get a hold of herself. so she (ok, I) creeped out ducking the divebomber once, twice, and then returning to bang on the locked bathroom door (seriously, kate and abby? a bird is going to BREAK IN TO THE BATHROOM IF YOU NEGLECT TO SLIDE THE LOCK ACROSS THE DOOR??)

eventually i reached the kitchen phone to call carolyn (because the cell phone was too close to the rabid and raging phoenix) to say what do I do if there is a bird flying around and around my house and every time I look at it it flies toward my eyes? and she said, very calmly and confidently, as apparently this happens all the time at HER house in the COUNTRY: have the dog and the girls go in another room (check!) so it’s all calm out there with just you in charge (ha!) and then you just get a towel and walk nonchalantly toward it and throw the towel over it, gather it up and take it outside and let it go. um, ok.

so I grabbed a towel and tiptoed toward it, but then it flew directly toward me so I threw the towel over my OWN head and laid on the floor like I was dead.

and after a few minutes I came back to life, and crawled back toward a basket of laundry in the tv room to grab a larger bird trap (carolyn said if you are too scared to get really close, get a sheet). so I crept toward the front door underneath a KING SIZED brown sheet (disguising myself as the floor, obviously) and I managed to get my front door open with the bird doing angry circles overhead, and then I crawled toward the back door under the sheet and got the back door open and suddenly, overhead (above the sheet) I heard...swoooosh...

bye bye blackbird.

this is not a youtube video of our adventure, though abby did manage to record a few harrowing moments on her flip camera as she ran for the bathroom. this is simply background music to fade out this story and my day...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OdbWUPhjniE

---

ps. I am now a hero in my house, a supermom extraordinaire, and I shall have that brown sheet embroidered with an S and I shall wear it to work tomorrow. of course the girls didn’t actually witness my playing dead, as they were locked in the bathroom screaming at that time. they just think I calmly shoo’d the little guy out the back door with a little to-go bag of birdie treats for the road.

could I have summoned up this black bird with my little tattoo? with my new favorite song “birds” by kate nash? by saying to myself over and over and over “bird by bird. just take it bird by bird...”? with this crazy creepy sad and nervous week that needed a bit of hilarity to lighten the mood? whatever. I totally forgot about not having a place to live in a few weeks, AND that stupid stupid boy who broke my heart—for just long enough to sleep well tonight.

man life is funny and unexpected and rather surprisingly joyful underneath all this crump some days.