I'm cleaning tonight. My house is a wreck most of the time. One of the drawbacks of being a single mom....I get to do ALL of the housecleaning without any help or cheering on. It's when I'm cleaning that I sometimes wonder if I've missed out by turning down offers of marriage and otherwise. I think of how nice it would be to, just once in a blue moon, have someone else take out the trash or fold the laundry. Someone to help me put the sheets on the bed, someone to cook breakfast with on Sunday mornings. I look around my house some nights and just want to burst into tears from how much I have to do. It would be nice to have someone that would tell me, "Hey, don't worry. We'll do it together." So that's what I think of...and then, when I'm done feeling sorry for myself, I move on to other things---like:

--Am I the only woman my age who still wears an apron around the house?

--The Remains of the Day is probably one of the saddest movies I've ever seen...that part where she moves to see what he's reading...it breaks my heart.

--I need to paint my toenails. Poor upkeep of the pedicure is a sign I'm falling apart here.

--Should I call him? Should I not call him? Or should I wait for him to call me? Keeerrrrist! I am such a dork!

--Is that another grey hair???

--I've got the perfect ending for that short story that's been languishing for the last few weeks.

--I'm going to take a nice long walk across the dam with my kids tomorrow.

--And I'm going to figure out where I hid that plane ticket from myself!! I hate when I do that!!

--I'm going to Seattle to visit Shae. Emergency Friend First-Aid, you know. : ) I'm completing a circle in a lot of ways...someone reached out and helped me years back when I was caving in on myself. Now it's my turn to repay the kindness that saved me so long ago. Gotta call my mom and figure out how soon I can get out there.

--Trial coming up in a couple of weeks.

--They took a biopsy from a spot near my collar bone yesterday. I won't find out anything until next week. I'm not that worried....no point in worrying. So I won't.

--The boys are being so good tonight. It's too quiet...which means I probably need to see what they're up to!!!

And now I must go scrub the toilets! I don't need a husband. I need a maid!! ; )

Dancing Bears--William H. Beard

If you recognize yourself in this, it was written for you.

I am not a social creature by nature, but I found myself invited one evening to a large dinner party. It was a grand affair. Our gracious hosts had an impeccable sense of exactly how many places to set at the great table in the dining room to make the occasion festive without being overbearing. He was the one I noticed first. Lord M. A stalwart character, very large. Dark and brooding like a bear, until he smiled at her, revealing a gentleness that took me by surprise. I am not the best conversationalist, and less so when I'm intent on studying the human condition that has fascinated me so from childhood. I had been seated next to a talkative chap whom I was able to placate by merely nodding my head politely every so often. I didn't mind this arrangement because it gave me the opportunity to observe Lord M. and his lady at a polite distance.

The lady I speak of was not known to me personally, but my dinner companion commented upon her appearance at the table with her husband--not Lord M. I was not the only one, it seemed, who had heard rumors that it was not the happiest of marriages and the Lady A. had sought to find a lover with which to occupy her time.

I watched them from across the table. They were seated at the extreme opposite ends of our gathering. It may have very well been two very different corners of the earth, for they were able to communicate only by fleeting glances at one another and small movements that held meaning for each. His were so full of yearning that I could hardly bear to watch him. There were several times when I saw him clench the table as if he were going to rise up and suddenly diminish this divide between them. Yet her signals to him were tiny words that drifted over my plate: stay, no, please, wait, wait, wait. He grew impatient and I watched her pleading with him even as she lay her hand in her husband's and laughed softly into his ear, all the while beckoning to Lord M. with her soft eyes and coquettish smile.

The last course of our meal coincided with the setting sun and we all retired to the gardens of the estate to enjoy the twilight. A few of the guests paired off and wandered into the hedge groves under the pretext of catching fireflies. The miniature creatures floated about us like embers, igniting stolen kisses and tangled limbs in the soft grassy outer reaches of the garden away from the prying eyes of most of our party. Lady A.'s husband busied himself with a brandy, discussing some dull matter or another with a gentleman from France. All the while, she was planning her escape and I watched, ready to witness this rendezvous that had been so intricately woven and planned right before my eyes.

Lord M. had walked alone into the grove of oaks that lay far from the main house. I followed at a safe distance and stood watching him in the trees as he waited for Lady A. He paced back and forth slowly, busying himself with the repetitive exercise until he heard her footsteps. I slipped further back into the shadows, afraid that I might be discovered and ruin the moment that I had spent the entire evening awaiting.

As she neared, I held my breath, expecting the towering moment in which she would throw herself into his giant arms. I thought to myself how wondrous it would be to witness the soothing of this horrible ache in him that was so tremendous it permeated my own skin and tightened my chest. Lord M. strained against the edge of the tree line, opening his arms to her, urging her to come to him there in the darkness.

She stopped just short of his open hands. He could not reach her and I watched transfixed as she sweetly chided him for being so foolish as to love her. She reminded him of her husband, of her position, of how things could not be changed. He begged her to move closer, even if only to brush his lips with her fingertips. Lady A., in all her finery, in her beautiful dinner dress, replied laughingly that he was selfish for even wanting such a thing. And with that she turned and ran quickly back to the party, and back to the safety of her husband's waiting arm. As for me, I spent the rest of the night hiding in the woods, listening to the heartbreaking cries of a bear in love.

"He's dreaming now," said Tweedledee: "and what do you think he's dreaming about?"

Alice said "Nobody can guess that."

"Why, about you!" Tweedledee exclaimed, clapping his hands triumphantly. "And if he left off dreaming about you, where do you suppose you'd be?"

"Where I am now, of course," said Alice.

"Not you!" Tweedledee retorted contemptuously. "You'd be nowhere. Why you're only a sort of thing in his dream!"

Lewis Carrol
catelin: (Default)
( Feb. 2nd, 2001 06:49 pm)

Woke up, rolled over,
caught a glimpse
of myself in
charcoal resting
against the wall.

No lover's arm
draped carelessly
over the hip,
No sleepy breath
condensing against
the throat's hollow.

No doubt
there will be
six more weeks of
Ever have those inexplicable times when you find yourself wondering about woulda-shoulda-coulda? Where nothing's really wrong, but nothing's really right? When you wonder how long you're gonna be stuck between lonely and fulfilled? It's that pesky fuckin' twilight that I hate. I remember a Frank Zappa interview where he talked about how love songs perpetrated this awful hoax on everyone, making us long for things that didn't exist. I knew before I even pulled out the cd that I should just put it right back on the shelf and go to sleep.

North Dakota
(Lyle Lovett and Willis Alan Ramsey)

The boys from North Dakota
They drink whisky for their fun
And the cowboys down in Texas
They polish up their guns
And they look across the border
To learn the ways of love

If you love me, say I love you
If you love me, say I do
If you love me, say I love you
If you love me, say I do
And you can say I love you
And you can say I do

So I drank myself some whisky
And I dreamed I was a cowboy
And I rode across the border

If you love me, say I love you
If you love me, take my hand
If you love me, say I love you
If you love me, take my hand
And you can say I love you
And you can have my hand

I remember in the mornings
Waking up
With your arms around my head
You told me you can sleep forever
And I'll still hold you then

Now the weather's getting colder
It's even cold down here
And the words that you have told me
Hang frozen in the air
And sometimes I look right through them
As if they were not there

And the boys from North Dakota
They drink whisky for their fun
And the cowboys down in Texas
They polish up their guns
And they look across the border
To learn the ways of love

Sorry, Lyle...Zappa would wanna kick you in the ass for that one. I know I do. I think I'll take two long looks at my sleeping boys and call myself optimistic in the morning.


catelin: (Default)


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