Why I cried on Saturday night.

Here's what happened Saturday:

We got up and went to a Christening.
Went to a BBQ reception that had a pig with an apple in it's mouth.
Came home and did a little work while Emmett took a nap.
Went to Faith & Hunter's for a Vegan dinner.

After we came home, Mike and I got into a fight for awhile. It was my fault, I'm sure. It usually is. But somehow he can take it and he does. This fight didn't make me cry. What made me cry was thinking about the pig.

I balled for about 25 minutes about it. Thinking about the apple in the mouth...like it was making fun of the pig? Thinking about it's dead carcass, being gouged by people not even thinking about it. And it came on even stronger becuase of the Vegan dinner (what irony).

Then, I cried for about 15 minutes remembering the chicken truck I saw drive through Avondale...and thinking about how cute chicks are and how loving cows are and I realized that for the past 10 years, I have been stuffing all of my feelings behind a dam I've constructed for conveience, and it all came exploding out. And even as I'm writing this I feel like I"m about to cry becuase I can't stand animals being hurt.

I have been a non-vegetarian for awhile now. I was a TERRIBLE vegetarian before that and was told by the doctor that I was "Saving the animals but killing myself". I was low iron, anemic etc. etc. All I ate was cheese.

Over the years, I've considered (time and time again) going back, but have always stopped myself becuase Mike doesn't like vegetables...and how will that work? Well, I don't really know how it will work, but the meat at that BBQ was the last meat I'll eat for awhile. (I didn't eat pork, incidentally)

I've stopped eating all red meat and poultry. I am not going to stop eating fish.If you want more details about why fish are OK to me, I'll tell you.

I am hungry. I have no idea what I'm going to eat tonight. I'm overdoing it on the bread. I need a vegetarian cookbook. But today, for the first time in so, so many years, when I'm dinner out of the freezer, I don't have to "trick" myself about what it actually is.

Zestfully...zestfully...zestfully clean...

Which ones do you hate
and why?

Never Assume Making Jokes in Blog Comments Works Well

VISUAL AID


Jessica just called me and in a roundabout way asked if I was mad at her.Why? Due to a very strange misunderstanding in blogworld today. I've decided to share it.

My friend, a clever-witted, "always gets the joke no matter how minor the reference" friend today wrote a blog entry in which she spelled "seem"..."see". It was obviously a typo and unlike sentenses such as
"He will lead the rest of those who parished" (rather than perished), her mistake didn't even remotely lead to new meaning in the sentence. However, I just HAD to point it out to her and wanted to do it in a clever way. So here's what happened:

To follow along, you must go to THIS LINK on her blog. IMPORTANT: To get the full effect, read my caption, then her blog, my caption, then her blog..etc.

1. Jessica: Jessica writes in her blog
I can't tell if the lyrics are objectively good, or if the music makes them see better than they are. What do you think, people.

2. Elisabeth:I note that she has a misspelling on "see" and that it (kindof) makes a little bit of a new sentence. "Joke worthy" I decided, and I wrote a note in her comments (See second of my posts) making reference to "studies that link music to eyesight". I thought she would reread her post and "catch on".

3. Jessica: Not catching on and trying to figure out why I'd make such a random comment, (See her response) Jessica refered to me as "Professor", jostling me for throwing in such a strange fact.


4. Elisabeth: Recognizing that she was "not getting it", I responded (3rd post) by acting like a professor, including her typo line and saying that her sentence was gramatically incorrect in an effort to really show her what I was getting at and drive me unfunny joke home once and for all.

4. Jessica: She read it and thought that I was responding angrily. She felt that I misunderstood her sentence and thought that she had meant to write "see" rather than "seem" and that I truly believed she had made a gross gramatical error. She thought that I was pissed off that she called me "professor" and that I was sharply responding by saying she "quickly referenced" my studies and that she really had made a terrible error in grammar.

Then, I received the call...Rather than posting, she cut to the chase and wanted to know if I was mad.

All this goes to say, you have to make your blog comments really obvious if you expect them to be understood.

IT'S OFFICIAL.

I worked it out with my client and I officially have W & F off. M & T I work 12-6 and Thursday I work all day.

Tomorrow, I have off with Emmett!!!!

The most important post I've ever written.

My life is changing for the better. Last week, I decided that (after a series of dreams that both Mike and I had) I was working too much and that I needed to spend more time with Emmett and establish a bond which has weakened severely.

The problem was, that I WANTED to work. My need for immediate gratification is great and mothering hasn't offered that consistent stroking and achievement. (I've written about that before). So I prayed and asked God to give me the desire to spend time with Emmett.

And I can't believe it...but it happened.

I have changed my work schedule around so that Emmett & I have 2 full days together, 2 half days, and I only work one full day. And so far, I cannot believe the difference. I am so much more fufilled and, more importantely, Emmett is so much happier. He's my buddy again...we're pals! I know he loves me and for the first time in such a long time, I FEEL LIKE I'M A GOOD MOM!

I left him to go to the market the other day and I almost cried on the way feeling like he's mine and he needs to be with me. (I didn't have my period...this is for real). I felt like I was going to a play without my husband. That I needed my son.

The bond I have with Emmett just from these few days is unbelievable. And the best part of it all is that it IS rewarding! Emmett's not an infant anymore, so every time he puts leggos together or walks or says car or burps or laughs or looks cute or seems smart, I feel a sense of achievement too. A sense of achievement that he's growing and is figuring things out (almost as good as when I finish a hard project) and a sense of achievement that I am a good mom...that my child is rosy cheeked with love and confidence and that he's happy, healthy, respectful, cute and fun.

This is the climax of my blog.

I finally feel like I understand what I"m here for.

I was born a freak.

It's time to come clean.

Hands: I have sweaty palm syndrome. Not the extreme kind where at a given moment I can fill viles with sweat. But my hands are usually sweaty and clammy. You know those black lab desks in school that come complete with bunsen burner? Putting my hand on one of those always (always) left a steam imprint of my hand.

Feet: I have an irregular toe on each foot. If you ever saw "Shallow Hal", it is the same toe as the gorgeous girl had (the one that George Kostanza rejects). It is an extremely long middle toe on each foot. I mean, really really long. To the point that sometimes I trip over it. I'm serious.

Mouth: I was born missing the two teeth next to my front teeth so I only have my kanine teeth. The solution in 1985 was to get braces and pull all the teeth to the front, close together. Because I didn't wear my retainer, they are spaced out again, which THANK GOD is somewhat fashionable with icons like Madonna and that other lady.

Ears: My earring holes are both ripped almost all the way through from wearing very, very heavy earrings when I was a very small child. There is just a little flap of skin that prevents me from having two little flaps rather than a solid lobe on each ear. When the whole "ear plug" look came into style, I could fit a "plug" in without doing anything.

If you have an abnormality, please post it so I don't feel like the only "non Cindy Crawford" one among us.

I can't believe I just referenced Cindy Crawford as if she's the hottest new thing to hit the tabloids.

I don't believe I"m going to die.

This is so weird.

I wrote about 6 paragraphs about death and how sometimes I think that this life is hell, and it "got erased". I wrote quite intently about it with a theories and proof of those theories. And for some reason, I feel like God orhcestrated the "erase" because I got that one wrong. Or maybe it's because so many of you are down already and what I wrote was really, really depressing. I'll leave the title as a sad reminder of the post that was never meant to be seen.

Most Depressing Day of the Year Party.

According to many, MANY news sources, January 24th is the most depressing day of the year.
Thank you Jessica for finding it and to Ana for thinking of having a party.

You are all officially invited to the Most Depressing Day of The Year Party tonight. Features will include:

• Sad looking food
• The Smiths
• Games that relate

(and sledding and hot chocolate)

If you want to come bring something that relates to the theme...alcohol to drown your miseries...a slumped over cake...etc. 7PM. Garson Getaway.

Also, Chris needs a ride if anyone is coming after 6PM. If you can come, post a comment and I'll send an email with more details.

Happy Birthday Stacey!

Just a quick note to mention that Stacey Gagne turned 30 years old today. We had an awesome time in Lancaster tonight at a kick-ass party put on by Aarron. Thanks guys.

Dream

Wouldn't it be something if the voice of reason we hear — the voice that tells us not to do things and to do things — is the "us" of the future coming back and trying to help the "us" of the present to make a better way through life?

I was just falling asleep at my desk and I had a quick dream that recapped one of the major regrets I have in my life. And in my half dream state, I imagined thatI was given the opportunity to fix it and was whisked back to the moment that I was deciding how I was going to handle the situation. I imagined that I was given the opportunity to advise myself...which I did. I was whispering to myself "Don't do this" and made all kinds of warnings about what would happen (becuase they DID happen).

And of course, I didn't listen.

But the weird thing is, when I woke up (immediately after), I realized that all of those warnings were exactly the warnings being issued by my "better judgement" so long ago.

Alone Time

One of my favorite ways to spend time with people that I love is to simply sit in the same room with them, each of us doing our own separate thing. There is something nice about being physically around another person, and just letting that be enough. In some ways, this kind of interaction is more intimate for me than talking. It shows a level of comfort I have with few. Being able to feel so relaxed around the person that I'm not worried about entertaining or talking. Both of us "producing" or "doing" and randomly commenting to one another as a break or to "run something by" or to share a quick thought.

It's alowing someone else into your alone time. Someone that's so close to you, that sharing thatspace with them is OK.

Like a Christmas Tree

If you're a little off, like we are, than your choice in a boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife is kind of like a Christmas tree from an "choose any for $20" kind of place.

You go through, examining each Christmas tree, and then you find it's flaw. Eventually, you find a tree with a flaw that you don't mind. In many cases, a flaw that you think is cute. And suddenly, you connect with that tree. That's our tree...isn't it cute? ...you say to yourself. And you put the tree up and you end up almost loving that flaw, because that flaw is what made the tree YOUR tree and makes you think it's like the Charlie Brown tree or makes you feel like the tree is almost your pet.

It's the same way with choosing a mate. If you're off-beat, you aren't looking in the "perfect" category because it's boring. You're looking in the $20 buck tree section becuase those are the trees with character. And when you find a person you like, sometimes you actually like the bald spot...the same spot that so many people don't like.

Like for me with Mike. There are a few qualities in Mike that I ADORE that I know the general population proably wouldn't like. And the amazing thing is, that since I picked him and since I like those spots, other people seem to like them better too.

In other words, you could pick the thinnest tree on the lot and if you really love it, other people will see what you love and will be able to relate to it too.

Jen, Brad, and my argument with Mike.

Wednesday, January 12, 2005

So...It's over.
Just like that. Jen & Brad. They've done it and I feel sort of empty inside. Sort of robbed of my innocence.

On to other events and news:

1. We are still planning to move down town by summer.
2. We are still looking for a Bella Vista house.
3. Jessica is coming out on Thursday night.
4. Friday night WE ARE COMING OUT DOWNTOWN on Friday night and WE CAN STAY OUT LATE!
5. Mike got a big check from a Franklin MInt settlement today in the mail. It will bring our debt down by like 25 percent.
6. I got a letter from my friend Phil today.
7. Ana has been watching Emmett all week.
8. I have more work than I know what to do with.
9. I found an awesome magazine today: www.rawvision.com
10. We saw "Malibu's Most Wanted" and it was really as stupid as I thought.

And, most of you heard the disturbing news about Mike.

He came home yesterday with his entire head shaved. I FLIPPED and we got into an argument becuase I think it looks HORRIBLE. Then he went in the bathroom and shaved off his beard I think to prove something to me. I was so furious and we are still not really talking. He threatened to do that for a long time, saying he has a bald spot and that's what you do when that happens, but I never thoguht he would do it. And plus, his head (to me) looks kind of bumpy and the shaved look is weird on him. It makes him look an odd shape too. I am totally unhappy but am trying to be OK with it becuase we can fight until it grows back. So, we are coming downtown this weekend even though I'm unpleased with his look right now and I'm just kidding by the way.

My husband (Michael K. Garson) doesn't love me.

I guess I'll just tell all of you the truth. My husaband, Mike Garson, is not in love with me. Instead, he is in love with a figment of his imagination. He thnks there is this girl out there that is so pretty, cool , aloof,political, smart and so snobbish and that that's the girl he was meant to be with.

All the time, he thinks of her. And he thinks I don't know. But I do. I know he wishes she were Emmett's mom. I know he wishes he could come home and see her pretty blue eyes. I know he wishes when he held my hand, it were hers...pale and delicate with pretty white fingernails holding the strap of the bag that's slung over her shoulder, proudly bearing the letters NPR.

Ryan Seacrest

is on. And he's "counting down" from NYC. And it's SO FAKE becuase it's 3AM on the East Coast. And they're acting so "live". To distract you from these thoughts and the reality that real time happens 3 hours before this time, they're counting down to New Years with the countdown of music. At number three is Hobastank — a band that says they would have NEVER called themselves that if they knew it would stick. They said the name was a joke and they got famous before they could change it.


Anyway, things are not better, but I'm happy to be in touch with reality. And I'm happy to be "stuck" in LA for a few more days, parent free. I really am fiercly independant and don't think I ever realized it before.


A few notes:

1. Emmett is SO CUTE
2. We won $10 on a scratch off lottery ticket.
3. I am in love with cerael
4. My new favorite site is slickdeals.net
5. It's 1 minute and 30 seconds till New Years.

I have to be near Mike and give him kisses. How dorky but true.

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