My inner 4-year-old needs a spanking ...

... and got a verbal one, courtesy of Digigal, who did not deserve to be dissed here. I have deleted that post with apologies to her. Those of you who find hissy fits entertaining will have to wait for my next one.

Changed-to-protect-the-guilty update

Hereinafter, FBF shall be known as WB. Like the TV network. Not that I mention WB much, except in passing. I'm NOT that kind of blogger!

I thought of going with just W., but folks might get that confused with a certain other Dubya. Noooooo!!!!!!!

Nine days to Champlain Valley! Woohoo!

My world still feels very, very small

It shrank to the size of a marble between March 2003 and August 2004, and the only thing in it that mattered was making the March 9, 2003 version of the Toxic Jock reappear -- the one who was so charming and charismatic and attentive and told me through his every word and his every action that I was the most incredible woman he had ever met. How the fuck do feelings that strong just evaporate overnight? That's why it took me a year and a half to get over it, because that is beyond my realm of comprehension.

And I AM over it, have been for almost a year now, but the aftereffects remain. I no longer shy away from the people and things I lost interest in during that time, but it still takes effort to get out there. And the financial hole I dug myself into by neglecting those obligations? Six words: Would you like an extra scoop?

Physically I have reconnected with the world, but emotionally and intellectually, I still feel disconnected to some degree. It's like smoking at AA meetings; recovering drunks smoke like chimneys because they're replacing one addiction with another. My mission in life (pathetic though it was) is gone, and I have yet to totally re-embrace many of my old passions, which brought me so much joy before this all started.

I have a block of time all to myself this weekend (8 p.m. Friday to 4 p.m. Sunday) and am wondering if I can do something with it to recharge those dead batteries. Drive to the shore and play in the waves? Buy a big stack of newspapers and get back in touch with what's going on in the world? Or just sit out on the deck with a pencil and paper journal, stare at the river and write my ass off?

If my next entry is dated Monday, the answer will be one of the above. If it's dated any earlier, it will probably be NOTA.

Why do I do this to myself?

Dammit, this happens to me all the time. I invite someone to something, and either they say yes and change their minds or say "We'll see" and fail to show. Meanwhile I have gotten myself all psyched, visualized introducing them to folks .... Then when the event rolls around and they aren't there, I enjoy it less.

It happened countless times with TJ. It happened at GottaGetGon with Digigal. And now it's happened with June C., who is not available to be the videographer at the Trio's wedding after all. Of course, the Trio had not given me an answer as to whether they would like a videographer, but that didn't stop me from visualizing how cool it would be to have her there.

I wish the disappointment were not so large as to cause me less enjoyment of events that are otherwise a blast. Being blown off is a blow to my ego. I wonder why these folks are not as psyched to be with me as I am to be with them.

I repeat, why do I do this to myself? Arrghh...

Eddie is home!!!

He turned up on the deck last night about 10 while I was chatting with June C. He is OK. (Huge sigh of relief!) A big thank you to Mindy, his guardian angel in kitty heaven. I'm recommending her for a promotion.

Now Abby has been out for almost 24 hours but her I don't worry about. She is used to being outside and always comes home. And she definitely knows how to defend herself and hunt.

I'm behind at work and I hate that. But I got a last-minute change in the way I have to do things, plus a panic assignment (someone forgot to do something, and guess who got to play Mighty Mouse (Heeere I come to save the daaay!). All will be done by EOS tomorrow. What's that I feel now, breathing down my neck? It's the sound of deadlines falling ... (apologies to Phil Ochs).

Speshul Ed is missing!

Sometime last night while I was sleeping in the other room, either he or Rozita knocked the screen out of the bedroom window, and he escaped into the night. He has been out a couple of times before, but never at night and never unsupervised.

I have walked the grounds, called his name, set out food, but he is nowhere to be found. I pray that he is OK wherever he is and finds his way back soon. June C. has asked her kitty newly arrived in heaven to watch over him and guide him home. This gives me comfort.

Come home soon, Eddie. I miss you and so does Rozita. She had nobody to play tag and wrestle with this morning.

Fireworks, food, friends ...

... not necessarily in that order. It doesn't get any better than this! Well, OK, it does, but there's another F word involved! ;-)

Another Mechanicville Family Day with its kickass fireworks, my annual bloomin' onion fix, and the fine company of FBF, JB, Mrs. JB, FE, the Trio, and sister and brother-in-law of Trio Dude. Good times, good times.

June C. asked why I don't do bloomin' onions more than once a year. I explained that most of the time when I go to these types of events, there's morris dancing and a pub stop involved, and pub food trumps fair food.

Anyway, this all took place after watching FBF bang the drums (not slowly) with two bands (Dixieland and swing) at the first annual Adirondack School cardboard boat races. Who'd have thought cardboard could stay afloat that long? I wanna build one next year!

The swing band is playing at another festival next weekend, and I agreed to play later in the day. Time to dust off the old ax and actually practice some songs.

Anyone who is reading this, please send some good thoughts (or prayers if you are so inclined) in the direction of June C., who lost a dear old friend this weekend.

Toxic Jock Syndrome back in remission

Permanently, let's hope. I felt only the tiniest twinge today when Iheard TJ use the E word. The happy ending dream is once again a little BB in the back of the brain.

What have I been yearning for, really? The incredibly scintillating conversation? I remember him using that old line, "You don't have to be Fellini making art films to get that train in the tunnel thing!" And how proud of myself I was to retort: "That wasn't Fellini. That was Hitchcock: 'North by Northwest!' "

I have had, and continue to have, many conversations as stimulating, if not more so, with JB, GL, June C., PTL and of course, the Fabulous Boyfriend (hereinafter FBF), to name a few. The reason I thought the TJ connection was so speshul -- yaay! -- was because of the context. Here was a guy who was telling me with his every word and action that I was the most incredible woman he'd ever met.

Not to take anything away from FBF, but I never got that from him because we drifted into love from casual friendship. Which, of course, is far more enduring than the swept-off-feet-by-wild-infatuation thing. As that song Kate Wolf sang (but didn't write) says: Some kind of love starts as friends/and that kind of love never ends/It comes on slow/like a flower in snow/Some kind of love starts as friends.

Friends turned lovers = fine wine. Manic infatuation = crack. More addictive, but as June points out, BAD FOR YOU!!!!

Still trying to sort out reactions to events in London, but still wrapped up in own little world. Maybe more later. I'll say this: When I flipped my daily calendar at work to 7/7 this morning, it crossed my mind that something about that date said "memorable day for terrorist attack." Maybe I was remembering Mohawk Man's speculation from a year ago that 7/11 would be the perfect date for such a thing.

Someone else who uses Blogger/Blogspot, give me some tips on adding links!

People who order banana splits at 10:30 p.m. should be shot!

Don't they realize we want to get our shit done ahead of time so we won't be there playing catch-up for an hour after we close the freakin' store?

OK, so tonight's Banana Split Boy wasn't as bad as the woman who came in last summer and ordered THREE of them at 10 MINUTES BEFORE CLOSING TIME. (I forgave her because one of them was for her pregnant sister. Cravings, you know?) And Julie and I still got out at 11:37, and I don't have to get up early tomorrow -- which is actually today.

As 3-11 shifts go this one wasn't bad. No influx of Boy Scouts or Little Leaguers all wanting ice cream at once. And time passed faster than it usually does. And the rest of the weekend consists of a pair of painless four-hour shifts.

Close eyes ... square breathing ... repeat mantra: It's just for the summer, it's just for the summer ...

Besides, I just paid a bunch of bills and actually have $202 left over! How cool is that?

An actual post -- yaaay!

Power went out here from 7 last night until 10 a.m. today and I was in computer withdrawal. But it's back, it's a beautiful day, heat wave is over and even though I have to work tonight, it's four hours before I have to think about it.

I am still trying to make peace with the news that Toxic Jock and That Woman are back together. It's not jealousy, really, because the last thing I want is to be his girlfriend. I've GOT a guy who puts TJ to shame. As I explained at length to June C. and briefly to JB, I guess I'm waiting for my happy ending ... some acknowledgment that I don't deserve all the crap I went through for 18 solid months over him: the tears, the moods, the craniorectal disease that effed up every other aspect of my life. I want that suffering to have some meaning. Billy, if you're reading this, have a barf bag handy, because you hate this expression: I don't want all that suffering to have been in vain.

And something good did come out of it, because I met June C., the Antidepressant That Walks Like a Woman. Still, I harbor this little dream that someday TJ will send a good thought and maybe even an apology my way. OK, who turned on the Aerosmith?

In spite of it all, too, I still worry about TW and hope she doesn't get her heart broken again. If it does, I'll be there to help her pick up the pieces if she asks. Even though -- say it, June! -- she's a bitch and they deserve each other.

In other news: Enjoyed Old Songs despite the crushing heat, the having to work Friday and Saturday and the lack of time with my sweetie. Met some more crazy Massachusetts people, saw all the usual suspects, had a great time at the Saturday night Comforts sing, didn't kill myself morris dancing Sunday. Bailed on work Monday due to sleep deprivation and depleted energy reserves from the heat. I'm feeling much better now!

So ... I can continue to post random thoughts or I can take advantage of the cool weather and the daylight and the free time to get some work done around here. This room is getting scary again.

I'll post again soon. Y'all come back now, y'hear?