Tuesday, January 31, 2006

Dear Chris

There is a difference between being alive and living.

Being alive involves air moving in and out of the lungs, the heart beating, and blood pumping through the veins. It is the intake, conversion, and spending of energy. Being alive is great. I've been alive for a number of years and enthusiastically recommend it to ANYONE! :-) I'm quite happy when being alive. Thankful, even. Yeah.

But LIVING. That is a completely different beast all together. Living has to do with taking the time to do important stuff as well as stuff that really doesn't matter. It involves being goofy, and loving, and other great things. It involves emotions like anger and worry in addition to joy and generosity. Living is what the truly lucky people get to do while being alive.

Now Living to the fifty-THOUSANDTH power? That's Living with someone that you love. That's living together with someone who is your compliment in every way. That's the kind of living that I am doing now. About a year ago I met a wonderful friend who made me want to Live (that's you, babe). Gradually we became a couple...and that motivated me. You showed me how much fun living could really be.

I love you, Chris. And I love living with you. I hope that we will live complimenting each other for many, many years to come.

But now it's nearly 10. You just announced that you're waking up at 5am. I think it's time to set the alarms, turn off the light, and curl up next to you for some sleepin'. Now that's living!


And to all of the rest of you - I wish you a life full of living like the one that I have found.


Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Two Days In A Row! Yeah, baby!!

Okay ... so this is my SECOND blog post in as many days. Go, me, go! Before too long I'll actually have room to talk about Chris's mom not posting more regularly. Woo hoo! Look out, J!!

So today I've come to a frightening conclusion. All of the time that Chris remained unemployed I really didn't worry much about the housework or cooking or any of that other housewifey mess. Every once in a while I'd clean up or cook or other stuff, but really I didn't worry about it much. Even though Chris didn't do the housekeeping much, he was available to do stuff when I needed him to. Well now that he's got a full-time job and the responsibility is now "shared" I'm feeling all housewifey ... I know-weird, huh? I wake up earlier than I need to. I have time for breakfast or coffee in the morning. I actually came home from work today on my lunch hour and did DISHES and put beans on to soak that I am going to go and cook here in a few minutes. UBER-CREEPY, huh? I feel like I'm on a mission, like I'm a part of a team that is making this house work, and I'm motivated to make it work. Chris and I are building a life together. We are planning to be together for a very, very long time and I think this job of his was just the catalyst I needed to make the change to begin making us a home. We've still got the roommate and it's not just "our" home. But it is our life. And it feels good. We're in love. We're making our home. And I'm putting my all into it.


Life is good.

Okay, Jen - TWICE in a row. Your turn. Time to update!!


Monday, January 23, 2006

Wanted: Masochist with Drywall Skillz

So...my friend Lauren's kitchen has been an absolute wreck for about a half a year. Her husband, bless his mid-lifin' heart, got talked into a kitchen renovation. He got pretty unmotivated about it right around the "tear the whole kitchen apart to make room for new shit" step. So now my friend has had little-to-no actual kitchen for a REALLY long time. This is really a shame, because she can be an awesome frickin' cook *especially* on chilly days (like we get every ONCE in a while in Houston) when it's too cold to go for a walk or a bike ride or even really leave the house. I really, really wanted to have some faith in Dave. I really did. I procrastinated over and over sending Chris to the house during one of his many days off (read: unemployed) to help jumpstart the project and get the kitchen done. Unfortunately, on his own, Dave sees the jumpstart to any good project at the bottom of a glass of whiskey. So you kinda get where THAT goes....
Anyway...so now Chris has a job. Like a real-deal, full-time, gettin' paid purty damn good money job. And now he no longer has those "days off" to go and light a tiny fire under Dave's behind. I feel kind of like I let my friend down. I no longer have a Houseboy to offer her. So I've decided I need to go out and find a new boyfriend. I need a new, unemployed houseboy (preferably with drywall and other honey-do expertise). He won't actually get any of the *real* perks of the relationship. I won't have sex with him. We won't get to spend any actual quality time together. I probably don't even have to really LIKE him that much. He just needs to be my beck-and-call boy. What does he get in return, you ask? Why, the pleasure of being MY boyfriend, of course! Who would do this, you ask? Don't frickin' ask me. I'll find him though. Time to go perusing through some nice BDSM sites. I want to be somebody's Master. Only there won't be any face-sitting or leather boot licking. I'll simply stand around my friend Lauren's kitchen in the evenings, cracking a purty red leather whip while my new BoyToy remodels and fixes-up her kitchen.

Please email your resume, references, and skills list.

Thank you.


Wednesday, January 04, 2006


I'm irritated.
Wait, even better than that ...
I'm testy.

Not exactly pissy because I'm not exactly *pissed*. But I'm irritated. My mom used to call it "testy". Context clues and observation tell me that this is what I am. I never questioned it, but just for shits and giggles I looked it up and dictionary.com confirms that YES, this is what I am.

tes·ty adj. tes·ti·er, tes·ti·est
Irritated, impatient, or exasperated; peevish: a testy cab driver; a testy refusal to help.

So...now that we've got that cleared up I should tell you why, huh. Yeah ... no. For now it's just for me, I think. I've poured my heart out to a little looseleaf piece of old paper that I plan to burn later.

What I will tell you is how silly and nearly fun enough to bring me OUT of testiness being testy actually is. I notice things - all those things that other people would actually get angry about or say something about in a mood like mine. Like the way Chris chews. Or the way that STUUUUUF was all over our clean room when I got home. Luckily, I see that I am only being testy and I don't actually get mad. Eating lasted all of 2 minutes - who's going to ruin a whole night for 2 minutes worth of loud chewing? And the room ... he cleaned that up just like I knew he would. I was completely distracted earlier and nearly forgot to pick up a dear friend of mine, but I made it and she was not mad. I nearly knocked about 10 people off the road and drove almost twice the speed limit to get to her - but all was well in the end. And eventually all will be well in the end. My testiness will pass and I'll get on with life. Just as soon as I can burn this damn piece of looseleaf paper... ;-)

Testy but still laughing at myself,

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