A Dime

1. I awakened this morning feeling a little queasy. I think it is from lack of sleep. I tend to get this way if I haven’t gotten enough shut eye. I called the girls (weekend with R) to let them know I would be on my way over to retrieve them. But first, coffee. I was so very pleased to find that after I had ground the coffee beans, after I cleaned the old grounds out, after I turned on the maker, after I smelled the delicious liquid drug that would soon infuse me, I remembered that I had used the last of the half-n-half the previous day. See, I do not drink coffee without cream. In fact, my quest for cream in England became quite humorous among our group. I quickly discovered the nearest equivalent was “pouring cream” which translates to heavy whipping here. Uh-huh. The only thing that saved my very un J-Lo arse from quickly expanding was the five miles (average) that we walked daily. Oh, I am getting away from the point. How unlike me. So, I had to go by the coffee house to get a cup of Instant Smile before I retrieved The Darlings. I am happy to say they were thrilled to see their mother and because of such a small thing as caffeine, she was them.

2. After everyone was in the car, I realized that I had not brought the items necessary to complete my errand list. I am sure this has something to do with the delay in getting the java into my system. So, I dropped the girls off, grabbed my list and items, and backed out, narrowly missing various items in the driveway: a toy truck belonging to the neighbor, a push broom to sweep away the grass from the lawn cut on Saturday, one Razor Scooter. The fact that I missed obliterating said items is most certainly due to the coffee infusion.

3. My gas tank was quite low, so the errand list was quickly re-prioritized. Why? Not because I didn’t have enough gas to get the things done. No. It was because it is incredibly hot here and I didn’t think I had enough gas to both run the air-conditioning and complete the errands. Brief stop at gas station put me back on the road with refreshing cold air blowing on all the correct body parts.

4. While driving and talking to Kris--yes, I do such things, if you don’t like it, there is a little button somewhere on your screen that you can click and go away from here--I decided to listen to a song that we feel encapsulates perfectly the female experience: “Bitch” by Meredith Brooks. This song is on my “Angry” playlist** on my faithful (if not occasionally finicky) Little Pink Mini. I know that some women don’t like this song, and they specifically don’t like the word “bitch.” Well, I do. I respectfully submit that women who disagree with this use aren’t being honest with themselves and will one day implode or explode; regardless, a gal’s inner bitch will insist on an occasional taste of expression no matter her exertion to keep it repressed. Besides, I think that perhaps they dismiss the song based only on the one word. Lyrics here. I particularly like that she reminds the listener, “You wouldn’t want it any other way.” Perhaps not all people find authenticity appealing.

5. I am trying desperately to procrastinate going to the gym and doing my cardio and lower body workout. However, the two empty pints of Häagen-Dazs sitting in my trash bin keep screaming obscenities at me, so I may have to in order to quiet my conscience them.

6. Watched Annie Hall last night. It can be safely said that were it not for my studies in the last year, I wouldn’t have understood, appreciated, and laughed nearly as hard at about one-half of the jokes. Also, the clothes in that film! I thought it was the 80s that are returning to the runways. I saw so many cute things, and Diane Keaton! Everything she wore reminded me of my mother during the 70s. In fact, in one of the closing scenes, Diane is wearing a shirt that my mother owned. The exact Ralph Lauren shirt. While she may have been lacking in parenting skills when she was younger, my mother had fabulous taste in clothing. In fact, two of the skirts hanging in my closet are at least 30 years old. I took them to Paris with me, and she fondly recalled the print, the store, the fit (though she cannot remember much about my hood). We had a wonderful time together, btw. I have simply come to understand*** that my mother makes a far better friend than parent, and to hold onto such pain leaves my mind and heart crowded, untrusting, jaded. I have no room for that.

7. I am absolutely terrified to take the GRE Subject and General tests. I am terrified of submitting my writing, whether essays or cnf, to all these different schools. I do continue to study, but the upcoming year and the weight of all that will be required of me to be successful (as a woman, a mother, a student, a provider) is nearly overwhelming.

8. K asked for a fish and a guinea pig for her birthday in May. She received both. The fish (a male betta named Prisma) we leave in a vase (with a plant atop) in the center of the kitchen table. His water became quite dirty and so following the advice of The Fish Guy at The Local Discount Store, we purchased a snail. He/She was promptly named Françios. I will leave the reason for the name choice to you to figure out. Because they are in the room of primary activity, we have learned that while fish may be small-brained, they can exhibit unique behaviors. So can snails. As with just about anything we observe, we have animated them and a ren’s book about a fish and a snail is in the works.

9. It has taken me almost the entire day to complete this post, which is exactly why I don’t do them as often. I think of so many things about which I could write, and now I actually do write them down with the archaic pencil on an index card.

10. I am heading out later today to buy a delicious bottle of Shiraz. Tonight, I will pour a glass, sit in my tub, and listen to Chiara Civello, and ask the same question Romeo did.**