In good company

I just had to post some of these incredible pictures from this years housesitting adventure in Danville. We look forward to that August get away every year. I love my friends and their children so much there are no words. 20 years of incredible friendship makes a life.
My friend Keith (who I have recently hooked up with again after ten years being MIA -thank-you again Facebook), was telling me of his awful real estate misfortunes and the financial horrors that followed that initial bad investment.. I said "oh man how have you coped with all of this?" He responded " well, I've been in good company". -Referring to his wife and 3 small girls. High-five to that brother. Thank goodness we can still decipher real value.

Scared soup

I’ve had a strange week or more. I have been a hearty mix of terrified and depressed with a splash of utter detachment thrown in. Zac is not here. He’s mad at me or I am mad at him- I can’t remember which. I just keep thinking, “WHO I AM TRYING TO KID?” Wouldn’t it be easier if I just moved back to the jungle and stopped this whole charade? Being a grown-up comes easily to some. For me it is literally a long tumble UP a steep hill. Makes no sense? Not to me either.

I keep picturing owning an Airstream to match my mother’s. I wonder where I would put mine? Maybe Morro Bay or Mount Shasta? Sounds lovely. Considering I can’t buy a car with bad credit right now and am spending 800$ a month on a renta-car, I highly doubt I’ll find it any easier to accumulate an RV. Or whatever that thing is.
I HATE credit ratings and I HATE the IRS and Avis.
Good Morning Life!
Blow me!

Ok, gratitude. I’ll give you a shot.

Thank you life for providing me an income that allows me to rent a car indefinitely. I am actually proud of myself for keeping all the “bill balls” in the air. Thank you for my gift as a massage therapist- I keep my clients for years and meet new ones all the time. I adore the people in my life here, even the complete neurotic, hypochondria tic ones
(You know who you are). Thanks Mom for offering to help (though you were not accepted by the supposed struggling car companies; your offer meant THE WORLD to me).
I have been meeting with a group of 3 other women on Wednesdays to try to be life coaches for each other. They are gifted and loving and intelligent in totally unique ways. They think I am “amazing”. A word I have had not thrown in my direction for some time. I got called that often when I was in my 20’s. “Amazing” got nudged out and replaced by some other descriptive words I think. I have been defining myself by my fat body lately, remembering the delight and ease ego once bestowed on me. Merely two years ago I frolicked around in tiny jeans and it felt fantastic. Now? I beat myself up constantly and bore my boyfriend to near death with my self- loathing. Whatever it takes to bring me to my spiritual knees I guess; to be a better HUMAN; to share gifts and not just a great ass. That’s the real deal. What do I really have to offer?

My last blog was written under the influence of alcohol. I don’t even know what I was trying to say. Regarding my lack of blogage, my friend Melly said, “It’s like you got sick or injured or died 2 years ago.” HOW AWFUL!!
I vowed then and there to start writing again.
No, I have not fallen ill, I have fallen in love!
I’m pondering my lack of focus, really… My ability to concentrate has been compromised and I am forced to ask myself “why?” Abraham say’s “Genius is really only the ability to focus”. Somehow I totally get this concept; maybe love just makes me stupid? Probably get no argument there… In any case, I feel like I am coming around, or landing, or whatever. I can relax, focus, be me, do me stuff and be in love. Maybe I feel more secure now. I am confident I won’t be left behind because I’m too difficult or too fat. Maybe it’s the B-12/6 shots. WHATEVER. Here it is and I’m going with it.

I’m going to sum the love part up here and now and then promise to lay the topic to rest.
I still after two years, very much look forward to next thing out of Zac’s mouth.
My boy is hysterical and these examples prove my point.

Him: I never liked Pac-man.
Me: How come?
Him: I don’t like being chased the whole time; I want to be the chaser.

While watching Steel Magnolia’s… chick dying, all sad…
Him: Is your vagina glowing like when Orks are near Frodo’s sword “Sting”?

Me: Wow! Did your mom paint that tiger on the wall?
Him: (yells from the next room) Yes. It’s an Asian predator.

Me: What’s the opposite of nocturnal?
Him: Diurnal. (No pause what-so-ever)

(While begging to leave his house and not knowing why he is still watching an internet war scene)
Me: Why are we still sitting here?
Him: 3000 rounds per minute baby, that’s why.

(While watching some new age lady on the Dog Whisperer talk about the “journey” she and her dog are on together)
Me: No human being should ever say the word journey.
Him: “Yeah, that should be reserved for hobbits only. Unless your Bilbo Baggins don’t say it.”

(Again TV)
Me: He seems gay.
Him: Yeah, He’s got some sugar in his tank.

He calls little dogs “high-steppers”.

He also tells me he loves me “more than a fat kid loves cake” and that I am his favorite person.

Need I say more?