Saturday, May 30, 2009

Boring Post

I'm on my first day of solo parenting for 16 days and so far, it's going pretty well. Granted it's only 5 hours into the gig, but we went to airport, breakfast, Lowes, farmer's market, and met some old friends at the local deli for a mid-morning snack. My boy came home and asked to take a nap and is there now, snoozing away. I have laundry spinning and we're going shoe shopping this afternoon and maybe to the mall. If things go really well, I'll mow the lawn.

I am all get and go when I am alone, but a couch potato with Partner here. Hm.

On a different note, my job will change right when I get off orientation, which should be interesting to say the least. The bright side is the rumor that we will be able to get plenty of overtime while our new unit opens up and to start with we'll only have 8 beds. Four to five nurses a shift... I will be starting midnights in July. Maybe sooner. I have to decide how to schedule myself: should I clump all my nights together or spread them out? I sorta think it would be better to get them done together, but I've never worked midnights... I don't really know.

Cricket is like a little boy now. How has this happened? He's even getting text messages from friends on my phone (Hi, Frog!). He loves to tell me "not yet" which I love. He also declares "On y va!" anytime we are going anywhere. I think napping is a good idea and I think I am going to put my head down for a few too.

Nothing poetic or insightful in this post, just general rambling. I'd look forward to any insight about midnight shifts...

Thursday, May 21, 2009

'Round Midnight

....I'm no Dexter Gordon, but around here 'round midnight is nice.

I'm still sitting on my back deck after having the wine night here tonight. I made cheese grits (y'all) and some shrimp to put with them. A homemade lemon tart. I like the details of things, so I pulled out my favorite yellow placemats, put out the wine glasses, arranged white roses and purple flowers in a blue and white pitcher in the center of the table. Primed the iPod. Had a pitcher ready for the friend who doesn't drink wine, but makes mojitos with the mint from her own backyard. Candles on the table ready to go. The shrimp marinating, everything mise en place.

Mise en place: this is how my life felt today. I had a list, and I tackled it. Never felt overwhelmed. I sat in a bookstore and read snippets of novels before deciding which one(s) to buy. I made a decision about my future job. I contacted people and got things moving in all sorts of different realms. And now I sit on the back porch that I own (yes, I own), and I look at the flowers in the light of candles and listen to a subdued interpretation of Faure's Sicilienne.

Is it possible that the summer makes that much of difference for me? When do I think about leaving a cold place for someplace else? How much of that question is metaphor and how much is grounded in reality? Maybe time to blow out candles, go inside and get under my covers. Read one of the books I bought today, drink a little green tea, and offer up my intentions.

Just don't want to lose the midnight mood, the feeling of warm, the candles reflecting on white roses.

Wednesday, May 06, 2009

Into May

Tonight-- Drive out to friends house interrupted by spring, yellow flowers and earth so fresh from heavy winter that it looked purple. The trees were as they can only be in Michigan, in May, at dusk against a sky that thinks it might rain.

The friends-- Intelligent, introspective, quick, witty, and nice. How did I get blessed to meet these women? Laughter is quick and hugs are always long. I do, however, note that drinking red wine, eating chocolate, Meyer lemon cookies, key lime pie, have made my stomach hurt.

The remedy-- A train going through town and from here I hear it blow its horn. My window is open and I am hoping so that the 30% chance of thunderstorm happens. Mint tea is at perfect temp now, not piping hot any longer, but cool enough. A memory of my big baby's smile and curls when I came home.

Tomorrow-- Twelve hours at a job I am thoroughly enjoying. Patients who are sick, but some still can talk to me. Knowing enough but knowing I will learn so much more. I am still in the foothills, heading toward the mountains, but everyone around me is confident I'll make it.

The weekend-- Three days off in a row and already gatherings with the same friends above, brother and future sister-in-law, a dear friend and her three children on Saturday morning at the market.

The mood-- Now? Quietly introspective. Serene, with underlying blue tones overlying yellows. Content and understanding. Opening the heart to know why people try to hurt people they love and feeling calm settle in that cleft.

Monday, May 04, 2009

Wabi Sabi Me: A riff that might be continued

When I was in college, I dated someone long distance. We spent many hours on the phone. He was committed to living in the south, and at the time, I was committed to living in Michigan. I wrote about it in a poem, my love the seasons here-- the softness of winter, the renewal of spring. It was the main sticking point (in college) between us. I wanted him to capitulate, to know how wonderful I was, so I tried an old stupid trick: I thought I'd try to make him jealous. (He's probably reading the damn blog now, so I guess I'm laying it out there for him to see. ) Along with my college bff, we made up a boyfriend. She's a writer now in Hollywood and I have my predilection toward fiction myself, so I am sure we created a great character. We used all get online and chat, and we even had "Niles" online too. Little did I know about the great Internet then, so I was blithely unaware that the ex was probably never fooled. I don't know if he looked at IP addresses or what, but there we were: Me, the bff, and the made up boyfriend all chatting away from the same location. I don't suppose Jose was ever fooled. We're still friends to this day, and every now and then he'll ask me how "Niles" is doing and I'll sheepishly change the direction of our conversation.

When we are young, immature, or maybe just vulnerable there is an element of life that we are loathe to show the world. No one wants to admit to being lonely or hurt or longing. I didn't want to let Jose know just how much I liked him, so I made up a boyfriend. If he thought I was dating someone else, maybe he'd want me more.

For a long time I didn't want to admit how my life, once big and tall and seemingly successful in all realms, toppled a little. Or a lot in fact. But pretending that things are perfect and happy and better than ever when they are is a thin caper. It probably doesn't really delude anyone either. Just like I didn't delude my ex boyfriend-- and really what is to be gained? I haven't even openly blogged about the shit storm that we've endured over the past year because if I face the facts, I am still circling around that space that wants to be seen as perfect, happy, content, on my way up.

But how boring is that? Life is in the small moments,the slips and the interesting part is to see how people pick themselves up. I intend to be a happy and content person. But if I am not all the time, that's okay too. The sum of all my moments together comes out to an unequivocally positive number, and it just happens to be a more interesting and complex equation getting there than straightforward one. (Which is fitting for me: I like a challenge.)

I'm on the bed in the small house, looking out the window at a tree with branches, not perfect branches, but lovely in their scraggy glory, dark pink blossoms against deep bark, like a Japanese painting. I know who I am, and that has to be enough. It's not perfect and I can't help other people's perceptions about me. I can only learn from that past and go forward honestly, me.