Rich and I are at this year’s Wordcamp in Miami. This is my second WC and I’m looking forward to learning something new on the Users Track (102).
My Bestie came to visit! Amanda is here and we are making some trouble.
Drinking all night, smoking it up, partying until the wee hours of the morning….
Ok, not really. But I’m really happy she’s here. Amanda is one of the few people in the world that I get along with completely. She’s one of the most genuine and honest people I know. In a town where everyone is pretty fake, she’s like a cool drink of ice water.
Both of us are trying to keep a close eye on our diet, so profuse drinking isn’t on the menu. Nor do either of us party. Not that Port St Lucie is exactly conducive to partying. I’m totally cool with that. After years of too much fun and way too many mistakes, it’s great to have a level-headed, relaxed week with one of my longest friends.
A war rages
An indefinable putrification
Of all we see and hear.
Flitter about as vicious hounds
Tear each other apart.
The mad politicians
Vomit up explanations and exclamations
Of factitious lie and illegitimate truths.
Bystanders are massacred
Children are eaten
The elderly are raped.
What will we see next?
What sounds to come?
How long before the rest of us drown in the blood?
Having babies made me fat. I wasn’t all that thin before I became pregnant, but I was severely overweight after Rylan was born. I gained more than 60 lbs while I was pregnant with Rylan; I was over 200 lbs when I walked into the hospital.
We moved the family to Port St Lucie, FL from Fort Lauderdale, Fl and it has been a hell of a change. The cities are a little over two hours apart, but it doesn’t even feel like I’m in the same universe. The people are different, driving around the city is actually pleasant, and there is hardly a piece of trash to be found on the ground. The cons are pretty significant, though, and it almost feels like a real-life Pleasantville, sort of surreal and photoshopped.
How does a parent determine what is the appropriate amount of apple juice their kid is allowed to have in day? Or how late to let them sleep? Or how much TV they are allowed to watch? Should a parent just let their 5 year old eat anything they want, anytime, and let the kid go to bed whenever they choose? Or is a parent supposed to monitor their child’s nutritional intake by the mg and have a strict sleep schedule that is finely tuned to the minute?
I just woke up. Last night was definitely not my proudest moment and was not the way I wanted to enter the New Year.
I’ve found a new hobby. Rich has been telling me I need one and he was right. I realized this when I sunk to a new low; I had downloaded Candy Crush Saga on my Kindle Fire. I knew I had traveled into serious boredom and dangerous obsession. I knew I needed something.
I drove to Michael’s and bought a pair of bamboo knitting needles and a ball of yarn. I checked out a couple of books on knitting from the library and went home full of hope. I began to knit.
It didn’t go so well. I read up on types of yarn and size of knitting needles, but I thought that was just guidelines, nothing that I had to worry about. I made the decision to drive back to Michael’s and purchase yarn more suitable for my needles, and, after a few false starts, I got the hang of garter stitch and began knitting my grandmother a scarf.
But what to do with that ball of yarn I had originally purchased? It was more suitable for crocheting and I knew nothing about crocheting. My interest was piqued when I saw some pretty cool crocheting projects online.
I made another trip to Michael’s. At this point, they recognized me from the last two trips I’d made in the last two days. I went home thinking I’d probably wasted money on crap I would never use. I was wrong.
My first attempt and I created a beautiful, stylish infinity scarf for my sister. Oh lawd, it was awesome! Now I’m hooked.
I’m going to crochet a scarf, hat, beer coozi, blanket, guinea pig sweater, oh the possibilities are endless!!!
I can say that he is tall, dark, and handsome; intelligent and observant; loving and tender; loyal and devoted. He speaks from his mind and shows affection at all the right moments. He lifts me up when I am down and holds me when I feel like I’m losing myself. He knows what to say when I need honesty and praises me when I do something right. He treats me with respect and loves me without bounds.
I can see that he means it when he whispers, “I love you.” I can see his tenderness toward our son and his concern for Big Tiny. He exudes confidence, intellect, and capability to do anything he wants. He is unassuming and understanding, never leaving the room without taking some of my heart with him.
I can hear him murmuring sweet words to Rylan, teaching his son how great a fatherly love can be. He sets an example for others to follow and represents the strength needed to be a leader, a lover, and a father.
I love this man, my man, my husband. He is my heart, my soul, and my whole world. I know that I am lucky and I am reminded of it every day when I wake up next to him.
Have you ever been at a party and felt like you were the only one not participating? Some days feel like that to me.
A few years ago, I was at a New Years party with a group of close friends. The night was filled with electricity, the kind only felt among people that know each other better than they know themselves. You feel it at the birth of a child or the wake of a good friend. That night I was separate from that energy and I stood apart from my group.
I couldn’t find the excitement for the closing of the year or the beginning of a new one. The kinship was gone; the feeling replaced by a need to move on. A restlessness settled in me and my mind wandered. The people in the room looked foreign and strange, their smiles unfamiliar and uninviting.
The clock struck midnight and I left the room. I walked out of the house and out of their lives. I’ve seen some of them since, but it was never the same after that night. I don’t feel like I know them anymore.
I get that feeling more often than I used to; I’m not part of the party, but a observer instead. This should be unsettling, but it isn’t. I know I should be more involved and social, but the desire to make an effort has disappeared.
I watch as the party goes on around me and I stand apart. I drift among my friends and feel no kinship. It is time to move on.