I wish I wasn’t going to blither, but that may be what you are going to get. I have pneumonia or a really horrible case of bronchitis from the SECOND flu I’ve had this year. I had a horrible cold, 2 flus, a stomach virus and dislocated my ankle. Since August. I wonder if the universe is trying to give me a message.
No really I do.
I’m fighting a lot of uphill battles—in various parts of my life, with myself, with my body. I’m getting tired and depressed by it.
Somehow, for the first time ever we are paying taxes not getting a refund. Usually we both withhold single no exemptions to prevent this. That didn’t work or didn’t happen this time. So we’re paying. It’s not heinous but it is horrible, especially when I know that money is going for wars I don’t support, a House controlled by idiots and an ineffective senate. I have long been a political animal but the whole tantrum crybaby toddler situation between the republicans and democrats turns my stomach.
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Em and I had an enjoyable morning listening to the Gothic Archies, talking about Lemony Snicket and watching movies I made about her when she was a baby and videos she made last year. We played zuma and talked about when Daddy and I fell in love.
It’s good to remember those times, because sometimes marriage is not the easiest thing in the world. Ever since I’ve gone back to work the distribution of house and child responsibilities has been a struggle. We have two different levels of clean, two wildly different conceptions of list of “things to do†and I just keep coming home burnt. Burnt from being sick, burnt from my first full year working in the school system—it can be seriously exhausting to learn all the procedures, all the ins and outs a various territories, all the responsibilities and all the many many things that have to be done. I’m not sure where the idea came from that teachers and school employees were lazy or didn’t do much, because that is far far from the truth. And yes everyone warned me the first year is phenomenally hard and then it gets better.
Em asked me if J and I were “ok†and I knew that it was really more tense than we are used to.
We both told her we were ok, because when we get at cross purposes we stop and talk through what the communication blockage is…like how he answers the question he thinks I’m asking and whether that turns out to be the case or not, *I* haven’t asked it yet so to me it doesn’t count and makes me peeved. And how I need to not use so many commas and clauses in my speaking and get directly to the point more often. I am pretty linear but hey—still Luce Irigiray would be proud of the construction of some of my questions..
That said I told her the story of how when J and I went to Convergence VI I think it was, in Seattle (hint look for pywacket) and how I got to meet Voltaire…and he was incredibly nice and very friendly. It was right after “The Devil’s Bris†well not right after but …I almost fainted because his song “Anniversary†was “our†song. J and I had a drama filled gothic beginning (people telling lies about his past, someone hiding my cat, another cat dying, another friend saying horrid things about him (like that he was ‘souless’ HA..etc etc bullshit etc). And I got to tell Voltaire how much that song meant. It was a stellar moment for me. Then with the help of friends– they made sure that we were in the ballroom –he dedicated the song to us, it felt like in front of every netgoth in the world. We danced together and both of us were all teary eyed. One of the most romantic moments ever. It was also the song of our first dance after we were married.
So yes, remembering those times, our beginnings, all the things we’ve worked through means we can work through this too. This is minor compared with how hard Chicago was for us.
Once again this turned out to be a completely different entry than I thought I was going to write. But perhaps it is what I needed to write.
