dreams

i blame storygoil...i had a dream about an ex last night. the catch is, the ex is my brother-in-law. that's right. i dated one of my brothers-in-law (or is it brother-in-laws?) before i dated/met mike. in fact, if it weren't for my dating him, mike and i would have never met. i seem to go through bouts of remembering my dreams for several nights in a row. why is that? i've been cooking all morning because later mike and i are going over to see our friends new baby, zander. we saw him in the hospital on wednesday, but now we get to see him at home. he's so cute i can hardly stand it. don't get me wrong, i'm still glad i don't have kids, but he's adorable. i find it interesting that the women in my life that i feel a connection/bond with all have cute kids. i dread the day that one of my good friends has an ugly baby and i have to pretend it's cute...

idiots

why, oh why, are there so many idiots in the world? take the editor of a popular local zine i write for. so i'm writing a story about old people, and i interview a local authority/doctor on the subject, so after she reviews the story, she asks me how old the doctor is!!! hello! he's not one of the seniors i profiled, who the hell cares how old the expert is? is it just me? i've had issues with editors in the past as well. one wanted to turn an interesting piece on famous/infamous celebrities who've been busted for prescription drug abuse into a tabloid story. one wanted me to get the photos for the story--something they did not pay me for and had their own in-house art dept. that could have easily done so for them. what gets me the most is when i file a story early or on time, and then the editor gets back to me months later with questions. um, hello. i do a lot of stuff and that was like 10 stories ago. but hey, at least i'm my own boss and when someone pisses me off, i don't have to work with them anymore. the beauty of freelance work. tomorrow i get my cast off, and then all hell breaks loose. i have seven stories due in the next two weeks, plus a bunch of query ideas i've been sitting on that i need to get out there. between that, we have to buy a car, deal with mother's day, komen race for the cure, and visit our friends who just had a baby yesterday. the good news is we went to the gym again this morning. two days in a row! of course, i was in bed at 645pm last night because i was so tired, but hey, we're doing it. and i got my "core secrets" workout, which i will be starting this week. i informed mike of my plan to drop #s this summer, and his response was "why?" i love that he accepts my no-boob, scarred to hell, beat up body without question. he once told me (post cancer) that he can't even look at boobs anymore because he just thinks they're all cancer factories. thank god he's a butt guy, because i have plenty!i read a great article in violet yesterday about mommy groups and it pretty much summed up how i felt at lunch the other day--the figure 8.

lazy

i'm trying to climb out of the lazy hole i dug myself into, and boy is it painful. i did not want to get up this morning when the alarm went off (at 4:15 am), but forced myself to. mike went to the gym twice last week without me, and i realized i have to make myself do this or it's just not gonna happen. let's face it, walking ain't cutting it anymore. menopause at 34 is great, but the downside (besides the hot flashes) is that i'm packing on the pounds, and that cannot continue. and since i'm not running anymore, or spinning, i have to find ways to make this happen. i've even (oh god, i hate to admit it) bought an exercise cd/program thingy off an infomercial. we'll see how easy/difficult it is to loose weight after menopause. meanwhile my skinny husband is trying to gain because he's dropped about as much as i've gained over the past year. so...starting next week, no more sweets for me. i figure just like everything else i've stopped eating, the first few weeks will be tough and then it will get better. i'm hoping, anyway.

lunch dreads

the only thing i'm looking forward to about lunch today is that it's at dragonfly. what i'm not looking forward to is listening to talk about babies and kiddies and how it's so wonderful to have babies and kiddies and how cute they are and how fun they are and how life has more meaning when you have babies and kiddies. i'm going to lunch with two former coworkers--one who has one daughter and is expecting her second next month, and the other who has two boys and just a few months ago had boy/girl twins to top it off. the former is in her very late 30s/early 40s and thinks her babies are miracles, and the latter emails me and everyone else in her address book a million pics of the babies at least one every other week. look, here they are on the floor, now here they are on the couch, here they are in their cribs, here they are in the yard...you get the idea. she's also been known to put a child on the phone when i call over there, so that i can have an awkward conversation with a kid who has no idea who i am. like i said, the only good thing about lunch is dragonfly. there's always tv and movies to fall back on, and maybe some gossip about people we all know. god, i sound like a bitch. it's not that i don't like kids, it's just that there's more to life than kids, and some women seem to forget that after giving birth. who knows, maybe i would have been one of those women. doubt it!

obits

i have an odd compulsion ever since cancer. i read the obits, and anyone young (under, say, 50) and (especially) female, i try to decode how they died. usually it's easy. "donations can be made to the american cancer society/komen foundation/leukemia lymphoma society, etc...there was one today with a beautiful photo. sometimes the photos are so ugly. i would haunt mike if he did that to me. in one of my journalism classes, we had to write our own obits. i can't remember what i wrote (after 11 years and six months of chemo, who could?), but right now, this is what i'd write: juliet suzanne farmer, age 69, died peacefully in her home in portland shared by her husband michael and their cats. juliet's offbeat writings made their way into many mainstream (and not so mainstream) magazines before she penned three nonfiction works chronicling her life. born in sacramento, calif., april 15, 1971, juliet died of natural causes on february 4, 2040, exactly 45 years after she met michael. in lieu of flowers, donations can be made to the komen foundation, a local animal shelter or the national organization for women.am i morbid? never mind, i know i am.

cast on, cast off

i am so ready for this thing to be off me. it's a beautiful day (i'm now humming that song) and normally i would be in the backyard sitting in the sun (or shade, depending on the hot flash) writing/working/reading. instead, i'm indoors, lazy and i blame a piece of fiberglass slightly smaller than my forearm. the good news is we're going to a party tonight at tall paul's, which will be entertaining. in the meantime, i have project greenlight and two hours of felicity to bide the time.

sleep

i just rolled out of bed. when did i get so damn lazy? i blame the cast...sf was great--good weather, fab food (samovar yum! herbivore double-yum!). driving around the city in lunch hour traffic--not so yum. we had a huge fight re mike's inability to listen to my directions while he's driving (or sitting still in the car). we made up later, but still, put a damper on the day for a while. at least tomorrow i won't have to navigate, and i'm not letting anything spoil my b-day!

flynn

flynn is staring me down right now trying to win the early feeding fight. and since he has a somewhat "person" face, it's freaking me out. he's doing everything he can to annoy me and make me give up, but i'm determined not to cave. he is, quite possibly, the most annoying cat in the world, but when he's sweet, he's sooo sweet. and he understands three languages (english, french and spanish), so how can i not love that? it's a whiny day. i'm sick of this stupid cast, and i'm terrified that when it finally comes off, my wrist will still hurt and it'll be equally ineffective, just without the support. but, yay, we're headed to sf tomorrow for an early b-day celebration. stopping by samovar (sp?) thanks to storygoil's rave review, as well as a couple of yarn shops and herbivore for some grub. rounding it out with a stop at ikea on the way home to get some office supplies--gotta write off the mileage somehow! then friday mike is carting me all over town for pampering, and he'd better not complain. after all, it wasn't that long ago that we were faced with the harsh reality that birthdays should not be taken for granted. and i'm thrilled to be having another one.

one down...

many to go. or so i hope.i'm seriously procrastinating right now because, let's face it--i'm lazy. yep, i'm a lazy writer. there. i said it.i'd much rather be watching buffy and felicity reruns while picking the dead skin off my arm than writing a story that's not even due for a month. good thing mike has a strong work ethic!i don't feel guilty, though. that's the beauty of having had cancer.cancer pros:quit horrible job to freelance, which i loveno more ovaries = no birth control and no periodsdumped all toxic friendsmet/re-met great new friendslearned to stress lessrealized i do, in fact, have the best husband in the world (it's a fact)get to swear to my heart's content now--something mike never let slide pre-cancerthe mail just arrived--one of the highlights of a work-at-home day. off to see if i finally got paid by the goof-maloofs. and to see if my flix picks are here. couch, here i come!