01/28/007 - Jones Girls

Party down last night, with the Jones Girls. I be the DD; well just one of the DDs. I wrenched the car away from my daughter. Tank was empty. Could not see out any of the windows. I figured my passengers would understand if I was a bit late from waiting on a Sat night gas line and hitting the Windex inside and out.

First scrambled up to Redwood city which has changed since my last visit but found my destination and hit more Windex. Rain slick streets and slimy wiper action. Then back down to Palo Alto and my second rider. Off we all went down 101 to 237 and then up and over to 880,680 and 580.Tassajara X.
2 hours later. We are there.

Mystery gifts in hand and pot-luck food contributions prepared. Party games en route and lots of champagne. That is what we are all about; food, drink, gifts, games and laughter.

There are 10 of us. 10 little Indians. 4 Jones girls, and 6 wannabes.

After food and dessert and more dessert and more food (and bubble water for me). We played the board game. and drew numbers for picking gifts.

I went last. I only got one token from the game board and that was a gimme. However, this is a strategically good position; a couple wrapped gifts left and all the rest open to be stolen. I went for the unwrapped gift, it was calling to me. A dragon incense burner, sits his butt down over a burning incense cone and the smoke comes out his face. He sits like a drunk coyote howling at the moon. Yes!

Passed up a marble top plant stand, a spice rack fully loaded, hand knit scarf and my favorite the Beatles remaster album, just released. OK, that was a struggle to let go. Candles, wine glasses and OMG wine!

I love my dragon.

I passed on all the gifts in addition to all the alcohol. Did my DD thing and made it home at 1:30AM. That is a very late night for me. It was fun to drive around on Sat night after midnight. Before the 2 AM scramble. Just quiet dark streets; I'm driving fast through familiar territory but blessedly free from traffic. Party down and out for the night. Thought ahead and made my little bed up with fresh clean linen. Gotta love it. Life is good, with the Jones Girls.

01/23/007 - TGTG

"Thank God They're Gone". It means pizza for the few remaining survivors, left behind while movers and shakers do their thing at far flung meetings, mid-life conferences and such. It is good to be left behind, to eat pizza. These parties must have EANABs. "Equally attractive non- alcoholic beverages". Such is life.

At one time there were rows of stacks of melting pizza from Tony and Alba's; this time it was New York style, there was only a thin layer, one box thick, so few of us left. TGTG is a happy day, even though the parking lot is more empty than usual.

January 23rd is also one of those days I direct myself to stop and think. I make resolutions. Crystallize my commitments. Evaluate my life and get straight about what I want to be when I grow up.

Time to have a glass of wine. Good French wine. Think about Mary. I approach the subject of my sister Mary often but always carefully, gingerly, adroitly.

On January 23rd it is more important to be direct. See how close to the fire I can get, before I conflagrate myself. Tonight is the night. I will live through this night, I think. I always have so far.

Mary did not in 1972, when she was 14. Unconventional, stubborn, goofy, prone to drama, ready to explode, pushing the envelope of her microcosm. I feel it like a great heat in my heart. Heart stopping words. She is gone. One day, Mary is a 14 year old girl, the next day gone.

But no, not quite gone. Not as long as I can make myself cry into my wine. Not as long as my nieces Mary and Margaret live to celebrate her name. I cherish a couple old photos of her and hold on to some of her childish letters. It isn't much. And why be maudlin about something so far in the past. Why take time to surrender to such saddness. I say, to honor her life, respect her death, and appreciate what I have. Precious life.

01/21/007 - Clear the track

Anonymous horoscope advises
I'm over committed and I agree
So how the hell do I choose what to trim?
Shall I wait for natural attrition?
Money issues aside what would I do?

1/14/007 - Can't get enough of that Colbert stuff!

I discovered you Stephen, during a stressful season. You came out of nowhere. I even learned to appreciate Jon Stewart as a warm up act. You exploded on the screen and I was left aching for more. Thing is, I hate suits. I think of you as a razor sharp version of PeeWee. Then it seems alright.

I'm sorry Bill. I still have the hots for you but ounce for ounce, the Colbert Report has what it takes to satisfy me in every way. At first I thought it might have been the fatty that accompanied the Cobert Report in April '06. But that fog cleared and lo, you are funnier and more addictive than at first glance. You surpass yourself so often, I can't wait to see what you will say or do next. You are surprising! That is so refreshing!

1/13/007 - Shredding my life today

Early January is the time of year I'm in the habit of recycling stuff from the accordion folders that contain each year's accumulated paper backup for the IRS. I keep 6 full years back and empty the oldest, scratching out the year and using it for the new year. So for example, 2000, (the famous Y2K) got recycled and shredded and scratched out to become 2007.
Some things got pulled out to be housed in the "permanent" file.This is a cube of file folders that hold literature and bills of sale for major appliances and such. Contracts for new car loans, original agreements for health club memberships. Interestingly, Y2K contained some investment contracts that were enormously inflated and which are not worth a tenth of that value now. C's famous 35K college fund that is now down to 2.5K. Not the first or last nest egg to break, but mine to cry over.
Also found some holiday cards from folks I no longer correspond with. And a couple handwritten notes from my Mom. So cool to see her handwriting and recognize it. I save those. Every once in a long while, I'll poke through boxes of old correspondence. It makes me wonder at the several different lives I've lived and people I've been close to. So far away from who I am today.
Y2K was a year of unhappy feelings between me and my ex. C was in the middle of all that. I stumbled across a long and agonizing Email exchange that I re-read with dread. Why would I keep such a painful memory? Keep it? File it? no...shred it. Shred it. And vow to never say anything negative again no matter how I feel.

1/7/007 - Memories

Color everything. Define self. Warm relationships. Deepen emotion. Amuse me in moments of zen, while driving alone, taking a long hot shower, swimming laps, or even in those half waking minutes before the rosy dawn, after hitting snooze again, and again.

I remember running away. I was placed with my Aunties, Mabel and Irene Carls, at their farm house on Four Mile Road, down the road from Great Grandpa Carls farm. Parents were busy having another baby...maybe Rick. I got up early as I always do, pulled on my little red boots and started walking down the road in the snow, still dressed in my PJs. They found me of course and dragged me back. Not the first time I ran away or the last.

That time I was three or four. I did not like the taste of their food; it was the tang of their well water. I did not like the smell of the house or the chilly upstairs bedrooms. I wanted my own home, my warm bed and my mommy. We suffered long stints at another Aunties; Alma's farm in Lyons NY. I did not like the taste of their food, the tang of the well water, the smell of the swamp, or my uncle's loud snoring. But it was a change from the long hot summers in Allegany. Made that trip ever summer and got really dehydrated cause I could taste the well water even in Coolaid.

Those summers held some good times and some bad. Picking berries and putting up jam was fun but got eaten alive by mosquitos in the process. I remember sleeping on the screened-in porch at last. That was pleasant. I always enjoy sleeping outside in summer...well anytime really. Paradoxically, it started that last summer of torture at Alma's.

In fact, I think I will move my old daybed out onto the patio this summer; that would be indulgent and harmless fun. All this unfolds and leads up to the nonce. I share one of my precious memories, and I still miss my mommy.

1/4/007 - Fold me!

Fold me! Colorful paper squares beg to be folded into graceful cranes, and delicate hummingbirds. My third try looked like a red pterodactyl but at least did not sail into the trash can in a tight little wad.
There are wide variety of folding instructions online, good and not so good, and then there are the creators of folded magnificence.

1/3/007 - Bird Food

Yummy gummy worms wiggle around in a pot filled with crushed Oreo cookies, ersatz topping for plain vanilla ice cream; but what was it doing next to 16 pints of high-end gellato? huh? Seemed like such a good idea.
Among the other good ideas: a variety of cheesecake with tons of nuts and seeds imitating a suet brick. Tasted great.
Tree branches downed in the last wind storm, were fashioned into a "tree" and festooned with little bird ornaments.
Champagne spilled freely in toasts to our newly retired friend. Our key colors: moss green, lavender, and gold; thank dog someone mentioned she does not like to drown everything in purple, as I so do.
A plethora of "Certificates of Achievement" really made the scene festive. Especially the one bestowed by the boss. Bravo!

1/2/007 - So nothing has changed

Bridge tolls are up, housing market is down. Traffic is slamming on 101 North when I drive to work.

If we get closer together and huddle for comfort, will we start pecking each other?

Is casual sex an oxymoron?

I used to be driven to workout everyday and I was driving myself insane with anxiety. I traded that insanity for survival in a fog of SSRI induced placidity. Time to come out again...it has been three years, maybe I have learned how to survive on my own. I need to be driven to workout every day or my body will not survive. I'm going to let go the fog and see what life is like without.

1/1/007 Happy New Year! Resolved

Y2K? Why not.
An image, a list, a link.

My wedding anniversary.
I Vow:
Write everyday
Exercise everyday

More photos, less carbs.

Clear the decks. Simplify my life so I can move on.