The way to go.

I enjoy being single.

I enjoyed being married, in the beginning. I like being single more than I liked being married.

Being alone has never really bothered me, whereas being with someone else does (did) bother me. Someone to answer to, someone to decide things with, always another opinion, another argument, another agenda. Oh sure, it is a give and take kind of thing, but sometimes it is a tiring way to live. I don't miss that. I miss other things but they have become fewer and fewer over time. In fact it is hard some days to even REMEMBER what I miss.

Some people need, well, people. I happen to not be one of them. I like me much more than I like most people. I have friends here in town, friends to go to lunch with, friends to gossip with, friends to do book clubs with (even though I TOTALLY DESPISE book clubs and generally have taken to learning how to doze with my eyes open) friends to throw parties with, work at the food bank together. All the things one needs friends for, I have that. I just choose not to partake much.

It just doesn't thrill me like it seems to thrill most people. I have lots to do in my life and I prefer to just get on with it. If left to my own devices, I am busy and happy. But mostly happy. Maybe I was raised by wolves (if you knew my parents you would know that it is not beyond the realm of possibilities). Whatever the case is, people don't add to my day to day existence.

When I was in counseling I brought this up, was it a bad thing? a good thing? just a thing? The counselor seemed unperplexed by this fact. Can I be social? yes. Can I get along within the confines of society? yes. Do I always want to? absolutely not. We moved on to harder therapy questions.

Still within my town, it is the question I am regularly asked " Are you dating?" "Have you found a man?" " Are you looking to get married again? live with someone? have a long term relationship?" It is almost like being alone and happy is wrong. Quick, find someone, anyone. Get on with it, you are not getting any younger you know. Get back in the relationship cycle, show everyone that you are fine, that you have moved on and up, that you have bounced back.

I don't really care for it. Having another relationship doesn't say "Hey, look it wasn't me that made my marriage not work." Just like not having a relationship doesn't say "Hey, look it was me that made my marriage not work. I can't find anyone that is how bad I am."

I date, I enjoy it well enough. I'm funny, witty, intelligent, can hold up my end of a conversation. Sometimes it is enjoyable to have the companionship for a couple of hours, it is just more enjoyable to go home to my house, my routine, my life. All mine, the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Yep, for me Single is definitely the way to go.

Porcupines

So having two dogs is a lot like having fourteen porcupines and a mongoose loose in your house. Ok, not the mongoose but I just reread Rikki-Tikki-Tavi and I am in a mongoose sort of mindset. And maybe a cobra or two, you know just for good measure. Anywhoo!

Talking about porcupines. They are sharp, not mind sharp, but pointy sharp. Olive is just like that, no mind that I can find but her toe nails slice up my feet every morning. That dog performs a toe dance like no other on my bare feet every live long day. The tops of my feet resemble an abstract painting of black, blue and yellow. Since it is not Halloween every day, this is not a look that I particularly care to sport.

I have now taken to flinging myself from my bed to the ottoman, then to the top of the tub, from there it is just a small scary shuffle to the shower, ALMOST home free, then a mad dash to the toilet, AWEEEEEE! almost made it, a thousand small needles are shoved into the top of my foot. Every day it goes like this, some days it is one foot, some days it is two feet.

And while I am trying to dance the jig away from 60 lbs of torture, the 17 lb sidekick is trying to scramble up my bare legs in his attempt to join the fray of fun. There is no glamorous way of systematically trying to leap into the air, yell "GET DOWN, DAMMIT (janet)", and hold in your bladder muscles that were the very thing that started this day of horror. Every morning it is a toss up to which catastrophe is most likely to occur; breaking my legs, killing a dog, killing my self, or my bladder just giving up idea that I may make it in time.

I feel like I am on an episode of man vs. beast and the man is loosing. In this case, woman. And I have opposable thumbs. I am supposed to be at the top of the food chain. The top I tell you! I don't drink out of the toilet, I remember the garbage man comes every Monday, I know when the heater kicks on we are not being brought down by invisible zombies and therefore I do not run head first into the wall.

So I guess the bigger question is "Who is really running this show? Me or the fourteen porcupines?"

I'm bettin' on the porcupines.

Just be

Ok I lied. I had planned to be back on Monday. I wrote the Post on Monday. Lost the Internet on Monday. So that is that.

That sums up living in a small town in a nutshell. Never, EVER, make plans. Fix your hair, gale force winds. Wear cute shoes, the town will flood. Want a grilled cheese sandwich, out of bread. I am always totally surprised at the length this town will go to just to deny you the very thing you want the most.

Winter has descended on us with a vengeance. Entire trees are being tumbled in the ocean like toothpicks. Hail has beaten the crap out of the last remaining flowers. We have had our annual rainfall in one day. The high winds make the dogs yodel. We have started to go to bed at 2:45 pm since it is dark out.

The force that is Winter at the coast, is always such a surprise at the start. By November it will be an old hat but now it is terrifying and exciting. Watching the ocean that is so peaceful and friendly in the summer turn mean and vicious is a sight to behold. The waves pick up the boulders from the shore and fling them onto the road like small pebbles. The next wave picks them back up and hurls them into the grassy part of my yard. Trees tumble and roll like a surfer just learning to catch a wave. Sometimes the ocean deposits them straight up into the sand, as if to say "We are putting our Christmas Tree up early this year" and the next wave shouts "Oh no, not before Thanksgiving" and back into the frothy water goes the tree. Over and over this scenario is played.

Then a calmness comes, the clouds part, the moon and stars shine like sparkly diamonds in the sky, the ocean relaxes, the seagulls walk the shore glowing white from the moon and everyone relaxes.

The dogs sleep on the sofa peacefully. The parakeets have stopped fluttering around. I feel calm, safe, secure and lucky. Oh, so lucky.

Then BOOM, it all starts again.

On and on it goes. Day in and day out. I watch and wait, back and forth, calm and vicious, lows and highs. Just like my days. That is what the ocean teaches me, highs and lows, fight and rail against things, anything; relax and go with the flow, any flow. Just be.

For though it seems like it will always be this way, it won't. Better or worse, who knows, who cares. The here and now is pretty awesome.

Oh, lucky me!

Here I come again

Starting on Monday, I am back. New and Improved. Ok, not really but at least back.

Relationships

I am in a relationship.

When I was younger, I used to dream about a guy that would make my heart beat faster, make my thoughts all steamy, make me draw little hearts on my pee-chee with our initials inside. I never found that, even when I was married my heart never beat faster and I am pretty sure I never drew a heart.

Now, finally, I have that. Finished pressure washing the deck, love cursed through my veins. New windows installed, I had the vapors and needed to lie down. The words "French Drain" mean more to me than the words "I will love you forever." I have dreams that involve driveway sealer that I swear are racy and frankly make my heart beat faster.

The words "I will start and finish in three days time" are equal to a three-carat diamond. The newly trimmed trees look like filet mignon without the calories. I draw little hearts with tile layouts in them. I look at new toilets and plan how to ask it for a date, a date with my house, a full time, lasting relationship. Is it appropriate to send out cards announcing the new relationship or is it too early still?

I know the people at the Home Depot store on a first name basis and will name my next pet "Depot", or maybe myself, still unclear about that. I can daydream for hours in the caulking aisle. I do a happy dance going down the nail/screw section. Power tools make me drool. Don't even mention the words "electrical outside outlet" unless you want to see a middle-aged woman cry in joy.

Yep, this relationship is working out just dandy. Home repair relationships are the best.

Oh, and the guy I now see, pretty wonderful as well.

Here I am

Home repair has been my nightmare of choice lately.

I fix one thing, three more break. I can't keep up with the calls to the repair men without little yellow post-it notes stuck over me like a Pin the tail on the Donkey game.

The fire place now works, the shower still a no go. Most of the deck is pressure washed, stained, not so much. Tree in backyard is trimmed, trees in front yard run amok. New windows are being installed today, one giant bedroom window broke and now vacuuming will ensue.

*sigh*

Money flies out of my checking account when I am not looking, and probably even as I watch, which I don't.

Olive has hip dysplasia and requires constant meds along with therapy. The bills come and go. More bills come and these stay awhile, like dead fish.

And yet with all the chaos, I remain happy. Which surprises me to no end. How can I be happy when I seem to be circling around a drain? Is a garbage disposal in my future? Yet, I am happy. Not like winning the lottery, beautiful new purse, or sunny, warm day happy but still a feeling of contentment resides with me.

Next month it will be one year since I moved to this little town. I miss Seattle, more than I thought I would and while I enjoy Seaside, I don't believe this is where I will end up. I think that is what makes me happy, that change no longer seems so scary, so hard. Instead it seems exciting and the possibilities remain open because I remain open. I like that - I LOVE that.

One thing is for certain though, the next house will have new windows that I do not have to install.

Meltdown

So yesterday, in my garage, running on my treadmill, I had a huge meltdown.

I think that this time now in my life is harder than ever. When my life exploded, anger, fear and sheer determination kept me afloat. I still had a kid to get through high school and into college. I lived in the same place with the same friends that gave me support. I wasn't going to let what happened to me turn me into a victim.

Now nothing seems to be keeping me afloat. Some of my friends want me to find another man, I don't want to. Some people started telling me "where am I going? What do I want to do with the rest of my life?" I have absolutely no idea, hell, I don't even know where I am going today, how am I suppose to plan for the next decade?

I do know that I have started to make some poor decisions. I haven't been keeping up my exercise like I should, I tend to put things off for as long as possible, I have been drinking a little too much. I am now acting like a victim. The very thing that I didn't want to be.

I am overwhelmed by all the things I needed to get done just to get to where I am today. New and frankly, very frightening experiences have been mine. In this area I have grown by leaps and bounds. I feel very confident in so many new avenues that I am left wondering why I am back sliding in areas that I thought I had already conquered.

Today all of that stops. I have three days of exercise under my belt. I have a refrigerator filled with the correct foods to eat. I have set some new goals. I am going to find a job in this little town if it kills me. I have ordered the new college classes guide. I have finally gotten to a point where the house isn't going to fall down due to neglect.

All of this is necessary but I am worth it. I like myself, faults, doubts, extra weight, all of it. I do think that I have lost sight of that for awhile. It isn't a man that makes my life whole. I make my life whole and I haven't been working on that area.

My life has changed, no doubt about that, but instead of focusing on what I don't have, I now will focus on what I do have. I have an awesome son, great friends, books, and two crazy dogs. Plus, of course, a bird. It may not be the picture I saw in my mind. It may not be what I had planned for my life. But here it is and I am going to embrace it, enjoy it, and probably occasionally have another meltdown.

And I am ok with that.

Addled minded

I have a new love in my life. I am always treated kindly. I am taken on wonderful adventures. I feel peace, joy and unbelievable love, the kind that is rarely seen.

My new love - is my library. I have the most gorgeous library I have ever been in.

This used to be a bedroom, the master bedroom as a matter of fact. In old homes, all bedrooms look the same so I have no idea what defined this as a master as opposed to a regular. Regardless, it was the master. When we did a remodel a few years ago, we moved the master to the other side of the house so we could add a bath. This room became the lets dump all the crap that doesn't fit anywhere else room.

I changed it. I need a library. Books are treasures to me and I own a ton. When I moved, I packed up over 50 boxes of books. Even with a ton of shelf space in my new library, I still have 12 boxes to go. The last ones are the rare/old/signed ones and they need a better space.

I designed this myself. Drew up the plans and hired a woodworker to do the job. Every last detail was one I wanted and no one else got to chime in. Sweet!

The cabinets are pine with a bead board back. I love bead board and would fill the whole house with it if I could. The cabinets are painted white with a yellow (the strongest yellow I could find) back. The shelves are all stationary. I only want to house books, therefore I don't do the third rule (1/3 books, 1/3 open space and 1/3 decorative objects). Also, with the amount of weight that books weigh, I didn't want any bowing of shelves. All the shelves, with the exception of the bottom row and the three top shelves in the big cabinets, are the same width. They are made to hold hardbound books.

I had electricity added to the top of the shelves and I have pink twinkle lights that lay up there. I added a fun lamp I bought at Powell's (the best book store EVER) and an vintage clock that I don't even remember buying.

The bookcases were built off-site and then attached to the wall. All the painting was done off-site as well, the touch ups were done after they were installed. Molding was added at the very end.

I painted the walls a light lavender color and changed all the trim from gray to white to give it a crisper feel. Added a vintage light fixture to the center of the room. I added a comfy, giant leather chair that holds two dogs and if they let me in, me as well.

I still have things to do. The window needs to be replaced, art work needs to come in, and the side of the room that faces the ocean needs some lights.

Right now the books are just up on the shelves. No real rhyme or reason, just opened a box and set them up. As time goes by, I will organize them and clean up the shelves a bit. I added some little doohickeys, baseballs, pictures of pugs, and other little things. I don't think that stuff will stay but who knows, it suits me and that is really all I care about. I set a table in the middle of the room so I can leave out the books that I want to read next plus it gives me a work space to cover the books with protective sleeves.

The photos don't do the room justice. It is simply unbelievable in real life. I spend a whole bunch of time just standing and sighing in total happiness.
I think that Louise May Alcott said it the best "She is too fond of books and it has addled her brain." I love being addled.

Bad Mac

My computer decided to fill up the hard drive. Being such a nice machine it gave me no advance notice, as it didn't really want to bother me with such a small inconsequential thing as no computer access.

Life in a small town does not accord people the option of just driving to the nearest computer shop, dropping off the broken machine, and returning to pick it up, all fixed. Nope, not in my town.

First I drove around to locate the computer store, which by the way is also the phone/fax/copy store. Went in. Talked to the Apple specialist dude. He is the only Apple dude in 100 miles. 100 miles! no one else. Made arrangements to drop off the ailing machine. Drove home. Drove back. Apple dude had been fired.

I kid you not. In that short amount of time, fired. No idea why. Now we have no one in 100 miles. Dropped it off with someone I am pretty sure was in junior high last year. Explained the problem. Explained the problem again. Explained the problem again and with some poorly drawn stick computers showing said problems. Explained the problem loudly and with hand gestures. Finally a small light bulb, probably a 1-1/2 watt, went off, I was instructed to leave it and could expect a phone call when it was ready.

Drove home.

Found a message on my phone, it was fixed. I live 10 minutes with TRAFFIC from the computer store. Had a cold drink. Did some breathing exercises. Tried to find a zen attitude. Called back. Explained the problem. Would have tried explaining the problem in a foreign language if I spoke one. Started to hyperventilate. Asked for someone else, anyone, anyone. Next person seemed to at least understand said problem. Would call me when it was fixed.

Two hours went by with no call and I took that as a good sign. Two weeks went by with no call, good sign had long since dissipated. Two weeks and four days, the call finally arrived.

Drove over yesterday and picked it up. Paid a small fortune. Drove home and fired up the baby. Used my password, the mac shook its little password box back and forth to make a giant NO. Thought I had been away so long that I had forgotten my own password, looked it up, typed it again, again with the giant NO. This time I thought it really was giving me some serious attitude. On and on this went, me typing, mac denying me access, each time with a little bit more mocking and judging. I ended up in the dining room, crying about the unfairness of life while two dogs thought I had seriously lost my friggin mind.

Called the computer store. Twenty-seven hours later I retrieved my new password with a jaunty laugh and an Oops, so sorry, probably should have told you I changed all the passwords. My new password:

password. Yep, no one is going to guess that one in a million years.

It's coming back

Starting tomorrow I will be back to posting about the exciting time that is my life. Gosh, that is so funny!

I would start today, but I seemed to have misplaced the camera cord and I just got my computer back from the shop, in which case the store changed my password and neglected to tell me what it is.

Life in a small town is some times filled with interesting challenges.

Summer

Rain. Oh my god, the rain. It is lasting forever. Growing up in the Pacific Northwest, we are used to the rain. Rain clouds, drizzle, rain, rain jokes, moss, mold, rain, mildew, wet, damp, soaked, drowned, rain. If it is a rain product, we have seen it. Felt it. Lived in it.

The days now are filled with it. Endless. Oh, so gray. So dreary. So tiring. Puddles, mud, wet smelly dogs, dirty floors. Oh, it just surrounds me. And I am so exhausted by it.

We have one day of no rain and I spend the entire day outside on the back deck, in the cold, trying to fill up on sun. Enough sun to keep me going. Trying to remember what summer looks like. Is it dry? Pretty? Filled with colors other than so many shades of gray? I swear I can't remember summer. The rains, the drizzle, the downpours, they return, again and again.

I turn on lights inside the house at 2:00 in the afternoon. It is dark and dreary by 4:00. I am ready for bed before dinner. I feel my energy level slip lower and lower into the nothing regions. I eat snacks. I watch way too much television. I doze on the couch. I forget my own name.

I know summer will return. But oh how it goes by so fast, while the dreary wet winter lingers on with a super glue grip.

*Sigh*

It is all good

Well, I am officially divorced. And officially no longer a homeowner in Seattle.

It feels different and good. Scary and weird. I have my own schedule and now my own life. This is a whole new experience. The last time I was on my own, I was eighteen years old. EIGHTEEN years old! A baby really. Now I am forty-six and still a baby.

I run a list of things I need to do. Of things I want to accomplish. I am starting out small, with baby steps. Little things that wouldn't mean much to others, but mean a whole lot to me. I feel shaky inside. Some days I feel absolutely terrified.

All these feelings are good, normal, to be expected but scary nonetheless. And exhilarating. And exhausting.

February 1st is the big kick off. A new last name, still not picked out. New credit cards in my OWN name. A vacation planned just for me. Home remodeling in just my style. New hair. New tattoo. A new me? nah, just an improved version of the same old me.

One thing I have discovered in this sea of confusion and disarray, is the fact that I like me. The flaws. The strengths. The scars. The whole package. It is all good.

Now, if I just had a last name, it would be perfect.