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Posts Tagged ‘work’

I SWEAR I’m still here. All of me. Okay, the old me and some added fat which means parts of me are new.

I have no idea what I’ve been doing with my time.

dishes, yes. hours and hours of dishes.

cleaning and laundry. a little bit of time, but it adds up. hanging up and folding and putting away clothes, even with a tiny bit of help from the kids. it all adds up. you know this.

trying to sleep for as many hours as possible after 11 pm (until 6:30 am), some tossing and turning, some restless, but about 7 a night. sometimes a few catching up in the a.m. (bliss bliss bliss if this can happen)

prepping and cooking food, yes. hours and hours.

buying food. not so much time.

farm share. yes, picking up farm share, but that doesn’t take too much time.

health, yes, managing my health. this takes a bit of time.

hiking, yes. yoga, yes. biking, a bit. These 3 add up. Hours and hours.

eating. yes. eating.

planning a trip to California, yes. This takes oodles of time.

But really, the real culprit is Facebook Scrabble. Which just crashed, right as I was posting a 30-point word. This is how I find myself blogging.

Oh, and I’m reading Anna Karenina, but I’m only on page 60-something after about a week-and-a-half, so that’s not it. All those patronyms do take extra getting used to.

learning my lines. for this show. this takes a lot of time. learning lines is hard. for me. no one else but me.

my mother. enough said.

two teenage daughters. (see last item)

the cat. a little bit of time a week.

marriage. this takes time. good time, but yes time or else one finds oneself not feeling so married as one would most like.

not writing poetry. not reading poetry. not submitting poetry. so, no time.

waiting. waiting takes FOREVER.

This all makes me think of Bruegel. I am not sure why. Because I am thinking of all the photos I’ve taken of the leaves. And how busy everyone seems to be in these paintings. Busy Busy Busy. My god. All of the sinners and workers. Work is all we used to have until now. Now we have online Scrabble.

These people are at a fest-i-val of some kind or other methinks. Maybe a change of seasons is being observed. Not like today when it was almost pitch dark when we finished our hike in the woods at 6:25 p.m. and now I am in my kitchen, full of lights when I should be sleeping.

Have fun, you folks, you. And PLEASE don’t vote for the bad guys. They are SUPER bad and SUPER stinky. You know of whom I speak. You need to vote for the people who will protect the peasants the most. The peasants are you and me. And who do your think will do that? Think about it because it is not Romney.

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Because no one used to have a bucket list. People had wishes and desires, things to do and see before long, before death, but they did not have bucket lists by the name MY BIG FAT BUCKET LIST

That’s why.

1. learn Italian

2. learn African drumming

3. learn to hula hoop (again)

4. learn to love more (aw!)

5. learn to smoke less

6. learn to limit my cigarette intake

7. true or false?

8. bucket, fuck it!

9. learn to fence

10. leather jackets are squeaky, didja ever notice?

11. how do those Kama Sutra people have safe sex with all of those bracelets all over their arms? OUCH!

12. set up a permanent place (a goddamn office like I used to have) for one of my massage tables. I am awesome and I should work and I miss it (remember: there’s no massage like a Glatter massage)

13. bike more

14. bike some

15. bike a little

16. just bike already, okay?

17. Burning Man? probably not

18. another tattoo (more likely than Burning Man, but not very likely)

19. attend the births of my grandchildren (If I’m lucky enough to get some some day AND I’m invited. Adopted is good, too. I’ll take adopted)

20. learn to use a hammer and ladder much better than I currently can

21. learn to chop wood

22. survival skills

23. star of stage and screen, no matter how small

24. write a poem. AT LEAST one. One, just one fucking poem, okay?

25. sex position. Learn a new sex position. With or without bracelets. Okay, no bracelets or rings. NO PIERCINGS either.

26. don’t be a hater (aw!)

27. Kegels

28. why on god’s earth are Kegels named after a man? You think we didn’t think of that before doc? Fuck that, you bastard.

29. eat more

30. eat less

31. cook more

32. on second thought, make enough money to have a very large house with separate quarters for a live-in cook. But he/she is well-paid and gets lots of days off.

33. help build a Habitat for Humanity house

34. really! that one was for real (not that the other ones weren’t, but maybe that one gives me and the entire post the necessary gravitas)

35. shed inner conflict and don’t listen to the demons of doubt about dropping capitalizations and/or punctuation. whenever I feel like it, esp in blog comments. Haphazard, arbitrary, sometimes, always, never. Keep ’em guessing!!!

36. when I searched google images for Kama Sutra, I didn’t expect a stone carving with a donkey (horse?) to show up. I am SO not doing that!

37. how many items do people usually have on their bucket lists?

38. do not write stupid, insignificant, self-indulgent posts

39. I know, read Infinite Jest

40. but not really

41. how about, I’ll just reread all my favorite books from forever including books from my childhood and my childrens’ childhoods

42. and movies, too, yes, all those movies I love, especially Godfather I and II and Tarkovsky, Nostalgia

43. c’mon, all the kids are doing it–that’s what blogging is for (see #38)

44. marvel at the beauty of the central image of Infinite Jest and simply keep letting Hubby fill you in on the important parts of important novels. He’s your walking Cliff Notes, use him.

45. and TV: Cracker and Sopranos but not The Wire, no, except for Omar, I’ll just watch Omar

46. Omar

Carry on

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Electricity was restored to our house last night at 1 am. Such relief I feel, oy! Can I get an “AMEN?”

Going commando update:

I realize that my attempt at fitting things into the category of going commando was fraught with false turns. It began to sound more like a Thankful Thursday than a post about underwear and nakedness. But it reminded me of a great story my mother tells from her childhood.

My mother grew up in Germany during the war. Her father had some relative–an aunt, a grandmother, a sister–I don’t really know and have never gotten the detail right on this–who had a farm away from the little Medieval town where my mother lived with her parents. They would send my mother to get fattened up because they had no food during the war. Rationing and what not.

My mother was particularly impressed with the woman at the farm. This woman, my mother says, was the hardest-working person she has ever met or seen. My mother has a memory of the woman working in the fields and lifting her skirt, squatting to pee and going back to her work. Lifting her skirt, no pulling down of any undergarments, squatting, peeing, and moving on. Almost like the women who work in the fields, squat to birth a baby, wrap it up, and keep working, the rhythm uninterrupted. How do they cut the cord? Where does the placenta go? Probably just hack it with a scythe and let it fall to fertilize the soil. Totally commando. Wow.

Two Peasant Women in the Peat Fields, Vincent Van Gogh, 1883

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