It's a Numbers Game

I just popped in to have a look and think about what I'd like to post today when I discovered that my counter had been reset. Not only has GoStats lost all the information it had previously gathered, it changed my cool funky numbers counter to some ugly digitized shite.

Had anyone else experienced this? Is it an error, or is someone messing with my GoStats account? If you are that someone, would you please remind me what my password is, I've forgotten it!

Until now, I hadn't realized how important those stats were to me; there was something very comforting in knowing that more people were reading than those who comment. Having said that, I love comments - keep em coming!

The More Things Change, The More They Stay the Same

I had a great plan for posting like a madwoman this weekend. I expected I'd have significantly more free time than usual and that I may even get around to telling a story or two from the once upon a time department.

Evidently, others anticipated that I might be lonely. I've had a constant stream of company all day. I'd like to say this annoys me, but I'm really grateful for friends who care enough to make the effort. I aspire to being as thoughtful.

When The Cat's Away...

The mouse... hrmm, I dunno what the mouse does when the cat's away because he's never left before! Seriously. Since we decided to start dating and "see what happens" some fifteen years ago, the cat, aka hubby, has never been away from us. We have been away from him. The kids have both gone to sleep over with friends on several occasions and I've had numerous business trips as well as two short vacations away from them all. But, not hubby. He is the quintessential homebody.

Sadly, his Nana passed away unexpectedly the other day. Since she died without having seen a doctor in the previous two weeks, an inquest had to be held which meant that the earliest possible date for the funeral was this coming Monday. He couldn't not go. Having just started this job, I couldn't bring myself to ask for time off...

He spent most of last week obsessing about the trip. The rest of our life took a backseat as he shopped for new clothes, exchanged some euro for sterling, packed and repacked and talked endlessly about how hard it was going to be for him to be away from us. It started out being sweet. Then it was funny. By the time he left this morning I was exasperated and thisclose to suggesting he extend his trip. Don't go away mad, just go away!

It's been ten hours since he left. In that time, I've had at least a dozen text messages and a phone call from him. I love that we are so close and I do appreciate all that he does for us, but I think it's important for everybody to have a little time away. Sometimes I feel a little smothered.

Most women I know complain because their husbands are too distant and never spend any time with them. I don't complain (except of course, to you). Regardless, several women have taken it upon themselves to explain to me just how wonderful he is and have warned me that there's a line forming of willing takers should anything happen. I'm always careful to acknowledge that he's pretty amazing but that he's not alone in this marriage - I must be doing something right.

But I also think that too much of a good thing creates its own set of issues and being smothered is just as hard as being neglected. I dunno, maybe I'm talking out of my arse... What do you think?

Confessions of a Feeble Mind

I confess that I don't think confessing is necessarily the right thing to do.

I confess that I've been at my job nearly two weeks and just found out I work for nuns.

I confess that I think the new pope looks as dead as the last one.

I confess that I offered that opinion at work today.

I confess that I spent at least an hour of my work day reading a book.

I confessed that the book was compiled of excerpts from a website.

I confess that I spent most of the hour laughing.

You can find the site at http://grouphug.us/ and there is another one at http://www.notproud.com/index.php

I confess that I hope you'll come back here and make a confession.

Start As You Mean To Go On

Well, I managed to get through my first week at work. I'd love to tell you exactly what my new job entails, but I'm still not entirely certain. I know that I work with people who were homeless in a transitional program that is meant to boost their skills and confidence so that they will be able to manage to pay their rent, get their kids to school and generally be functioning tenants. So far as I can tell, the people chosen for this program are actually capable of success; excellent! I also know that during my first week I managed to have my neighbour offend my boss and use my name in the process and put my foot squarely into some deep shit that's brewing between the two managers in the project. GO Shan!

In other news, our new mattress was delivered on Friday. I went to bed at 9 and spent thirteen hours there. It felt sooooooooo good. Honestly, I haven't slept that well without the aid of medication in the 11 months we've lived in this house. Not that there's anything wrong with medication. I just prefer my drugs to provide a little more entertainment than oblivion. I'm like that, though.

When I finally dragged my ass off my new lil piece of heaven it was to the ringing of the mobile. I was late. For a date. I reluctantly recalled promising to act as buffer for my friend and her mom who's visiting from across the ocean. Dayam.

So, with girlchild in tow I headed for town and the Dublin City Bus Tour. This tour takes place on a double decker bus, just like every other city tour in Europe. The only difference is that this one is actually very good. The drivers provide live commentary and, if you get one whose accent you can understand, they are really very funny. I believe it's the best touristy type thing one can do in this town and I drag every visitor I meet into town for a trip on the green and cream. (Do NOT under any circumstances get on the red bus - it costs more, the route's the same and the commentary is recorded...and boring.) At this point, I think the Dublin Bus should be paying me to take this tour.

The mom decided she needed to see the Book of Kells. Girlchild and I offered to scout for a trad session. We had no luck as it was Saturday and everything starts late on the weekend. The consolation prize was a basket of wings and cherry soda at the Elephant & Castle. Girlchild ate all the celery but I was feeling indulgent so I didn't fight her for it.

We arrived home around 7pm. Hubby had a bottle of wine breathing and dinner ready. Evidently, he had plans of his own for the new mattress. When it was established that everything was in working order, I drifted off for a few more hours of blissful slumber. Then hubby got up and went to work. He gets paid double to work on a Sunday, so it's hard to complain.

After yanking my unibrow into some semblance of ordered duality, I headed for the mall to perform many hunting and gathering type tasks while catching up with a friend. When I returned, I made dinner for the kids, dealt with the aftermath of the bomb that hit my living room while I was out, did some laundry and made sure everyone was ready for the week ahead.

Then I sat down to read what you'd written today. Buffalo, who I depend on a lot, came through. The rest of you took today off. Which, I suppose, is what afforded me the opportunity to post. I'd love to tell you it all went smoothly but eircom is a piece of shit and keeps disconnecting me. I lost several paragraphs of wit that I'll never get back. This post was meant to end when it was still light outside. But now it doesn't.

So thanks to eircom, I have no clever conclusion. I need dsl in the worst way!

Third Time's the Charm

I've been trying to post here all week. I wish I could blame Blogger but I just can't. It seems to me that there is less time in a day than there once was.

Of course, that may have something to do with the eight hour work days I started performing on Monday, but I doubt it. I think it's the universe trying to break us up. Well, I'm just not going to let that happen. We mean far too much to one another to let a little thing like full time employment get in the way of our relationship!

Isn't it funny how once you start something, every other aspect of your life seems to rev up in response... Three months ago, I was home full time, eating bonbons and recovering from surgery on a broken ankle (courtesy of my last job; let's not go there)... Two months ago, I was rehabbing my ankle and volunteering at my kids' school twice a week (once per kid) listening to kids read and helping them spread paint on unprotected surfaces... One month ago, I was rehabbing my ankle, reading with kids, painting eastery type stuff and studying to be a massage therapist... Now, I'm working full time, studying, trying to see hubby and the kids in between and training for a mini marathon... and loving every minute of it.

Now, if I could just find time to cut my hair and pluck this damn unibrow, I'd be all set!

The Saga Continues

Those of you who've been reading all along are familiar with the fact that things haven't been going so well in the parental unit department. If you're new and/or just want to refresh your memory, you can find most of the current drama here: <http://resthere.blogspot.com/2005/02/dance-puppet-dance.html>
(sorry for the sloppy link, I hope to be better soon.)

Anyway, after several weeks of just not responding to emails from my parents, I received one that asked about whether we'd be staying with them when we go to Canada this summer. I knew that if I didn't respond, I'd be accused of holding them hostage and therefore unable to make their own plans. So, I wrote them and explained that I'm still too hurt and angry to make a rational decision about how best to spend our time in Canada. This is what I got in reply:

What are you going to do,punish me the rest of my life for a trip we
didn't even go on??My biggest mistake was even mentioning it.it seems like you have been mad at me all off your life for one thing or another,sure hope you will be a better mother than I am.I hope you will spend some time with us when you are home but I want you to do what you want,the door is always open.I think you know that.
Love Mom

Unbelievably bad spelling and grammar aside, I was struck by several things about this missive. The idea that I am punishing her, for example. The lack of comprehension of the issues at hand. The old and oh so familiar attempt at guilt induction. And last but not least, the everpresent martyrdom.

I used to think that if she only understood how much she hurt me, she'd stop.
I used to think that if I didn't ask for much she'd understand that when I did ask, it was because I really needed help.
I used to think that if I had a good job and a nice home and a strong marriage and beautiful children, she'd be proud of me.

Now I realize that none of that is ever going to win her approval.

It is time for me to look at her objectively and determine what is possible in our relationship. Maybe then we'll move forward.

Secret Blogger

This blog is almost a secret. Nobody in my "real" life has been told about it. Which explains my otherwise unexplained absences from blogging.

You see, hubby works shift work which affords him a lot of days off. I don't blog when he's around - I haven't told him about you. I don't think I want to.

Having said that, I've done little to hide you from him. If he should snoop, he will find you right away. I set it up that way on purpose. Mostly because while I feel as though I want some privacy, a place of my own, I also don't want him to think I'm hiding anything from him. Of course, I am. Don't we all? But, the bottom line is, what I hide from him, I'll hide from you too. It's just that personal. Or I'm just that paranoid. Either way, it's working for me so far!

Too Much of a Good Thing...

...can be an awful lot of fun.

I went out Friday night with the neighbours and without hubby. He was working a nightshift.

It's entirely within the realm of possibility that I should have stayed in. Considering I spent almost all of Saturday still drunk, it may have been more a probability than a possibility.

I remember going to bed and thinking "Oh shit, only two hours til hubby's home and I have to get up with the kids."

I totally coasted through the day. Took the kids for breakfast (which I couldn't eat), made them a simple lunch (which I couldn't eat) and ordered Chinese for dinner (which I couldn't eat). I'm thinking I may be onto something in the whole weight loss department!

At nine o'clock I shut the house down for the night and crawled into my bed with the kids. We read a chapter of The Miserable Mill (4th in the Series of Unfortunate Events by Lemony Snickett) and went to sleep. Passed out is likely a more accurate description of what I did. I managed to stay unconscious til about 9:30 this morning.

Today we're going to see Robots. Hubby has one more shift tonight before a good few days off. He's not amused.