tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25015920818246224802012-02-05T18:46:18.858-08:00It isn't running away they're afraid of. We wouldn't get far. It's those other escapes, the ones you can open in yourself, given a cutting edge. — Margaret Atwoodseaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comBlogger5941100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-27467354236809533162012-02-01T06:24:00.000-08:002012-02-01T08:25:40.781-08:00

I read about her pain and his and I wonder if they saw it coming? I’m upset about strangers breaking up, because they feel like friends, because it’s the internet. It’s thoroughly irrational. There will be a day when I come home and say something snappish and you respond with something mean and quickly it escalates into us yelling. That will happen. It’s likely to happen a handful of times or

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-91195079492781162152012-01-31T06:05:00.000-08:002012-01-31T08:10:49.371-08:00

- As a child, my sister and I also used to feed any animal that followed us home from school. - Yes, I know, you still do that. Then you like to pretend they have chosen you. - Well, they do choose to follow me home. - You can feed the rabbits. - I can! Really? - Of course. They'll make a great dinner and what could be more sustainable? - You say that, but I don't think you could kill and

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-60813619284383906702012-01-26T05:21:00.000-08:002012-01-26T07:35:23.584-08:00

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-60864306236967981702012-01-11T06:10:00.000-08:002012-01-11T08:55:31.761-08:00

- Don't hate me because I played a 78 point word. - I don't hate you for playing a 78 point word. I hate you because 78 points is your average word score. - If it makes you feel any better, I just attempted to play "isex" for the triple word and it got rejected. - Is isex a word? - Obviously words with friends doesn't think so. - There's a lesson in there for all of us. ... - See? What

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-65808667175877900682012-01-10T06:20:00.000-08:002012-01-10T16:28:22.647-08:00

These are the things in the back of my head, when I let myself think, when no one is watching my face or brain. How did all of this happen?  How on earth did I get this strange important job with all these amazing people reporting up to me? How I am in a relationship with an incredibly smart, hilarious, lovely, intense man who actually knows and cares about me? How do I have this giant network

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-71689150325394371072011-12-29T07:40:00.000-08:002011-12-29T07:40:51.091-08:00

...And immediately ordered it. "I've now lived at the boyfriends for 4 years (not including the two I lived there without my clothes), and we're married so I've come to think of it as my house. Almost. I still pay rent on the little cave and everything I own is still there just as it was. I kept the house because the rent is cheap and I write there now, it's become my office. And the great

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-9359564736344867622011-12-28T06:10:00.000-08:002011-12-28T14:09:12.524-08:00

I force myself to stay in your bed, to not fix it immediately, to not follow you into the living room and mostly, to not dress and flee to my home. I try, unsuccessfully, to will myself to sleep. It’s our bed, you often remind me, but while you feel like home, your house does not. A backup plan is comforting, even though I have no intention of using it. I could pack up my truck with my things at

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-6568694953691997872011-12-20T18:35:00.000-08:002011-12-20T18:35:41.322-08:00

When I got anxious, he calmly said, “It actually matters to me if you are happy or not. I want you to be happy too. I am not your past.” He reminds me of this fairly often and I do need the reassurance. He’s right, of course, none of it feels the same at all. Like most people, I’ve been with good partners and bad partners. I try, as much as I can--as much as I am conscious of--to not let the

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-53334760750012759742011-12-20T05:30:00.000-08:002011-12-20T16:52:15.118-08:00

Three foxes by the edge of of the field at twilight by Jane Hirshfield One ran, her nose to the ground, a rusty shadow neither hunting nor playing. One stood; sat; lay down; stood again. One never moved, except to turn her head a little as we walked. Finally we drew too close, and they vanished. The woods took them back as if they had never been. I wish I had thought to put my face to the

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-55347512100711545012011-12-03T22:10:00.000-08:002011-12-04T21:33:30.324-08:00

I walk past the location of my former job at least a few times a week. Usually, I see a handful or more people I know. We hug, catch up and it’s lovely. I worked with incredible people and often miss them. The one or two who weren’t, still aren’t. No giant surprise there. It’s been the same with relationships for me, the good ones evolve into friendship even if the romantic pieces don’t work

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-62290904002116268832011-12-01T05:22:00.000-08:002011-12-01T08:31:43.144-08:00

In voice mail this morning, fury from my favorite (only) sister. "Did you seriously? SERIOUSLY text me in the middle of the night to try to set up a phone date? You need to examine your life. A TEXT MESSAGE? Not even an email?" When my sister is especially outraged her voice gets very high pitched and somewhat squeaky. It hurts a little bit on no sleep and only one cup of coffee, but I laugh

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-26445952494103437832011-11-30T23:16:00.000-08:002011-12-01T09:57:33.460-08:00

- Fuck. I need a manhattan and it isn't even 9 am yet. This isn't a good sign is it? - Well, I'd have one with you at 11. You know. When the bars open. Only if you really need it. - You were lecturing and I thought, "Wow, hot ass." What the heck have you been doing? - Awkward. - Seriously, look at you. - Umm. Thanks. It's a special diet. - Are you kidding? - Little bit. Dude. Stop looking

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-90080664311429938192011-11-23T06:52:00.000-08:002011-11-23T09:21:04.082-08:00

I'm working hard these days and it's a different kind of work from the "accomplishment" work I am accustomed to measuring my success by. The measures in this work elude me, though I suspect I will learn in time how to measure the intangible. As a result, I took on a task I probably shouldn't have, mostly because it involves concrete deliverables and tangible is my comfort zone. It’s nice to have

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-33089157832105325772011-11-22T06:38:00.000-08:002011-11-22T09:39:01.235-08:00

We are celebrating a birthday over lunch. There is no liquor, we are public servants, but there is a flight of crème brulee. Can you imagine? It was as amazing as you might think, lemon, coffee, vanilla and chocolate. It’s a small A team girls gathering and these women continue to fill me up. Some fairly traditional with kids and long term marriages. Others single and playfully dating many. All

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-49274945525622697252011-11-11T08:32:00.000-08:002011-11-11T08:32:45.735-08:00

I turn on the heat and open the window. It's incongruous and I used to get in trouble as a child for this exact habit. "You are literally throwing money out the window," my Dad would yell while shutting my window in the winter. Often I turned the ceiling fan on instead, but sometimes after he slept I'd open it again anyway. My Mom, having grown up in an environment where windows were the primary

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-5298257043469392582011-11-10T22:55:00.000-08:002011-11-10T22:55:05.262-08:00

A Word About Transitions by Billy Collins Moreover is not a good way to start a poem though many begin somewhere in the middle. Secondly does not belong at the opening of your second stanza. Furthermore is to be avoided no matter how long the poem. Aforementioned is rarely found in poems at all, and for good reason. Most steer clear of notwithstanding, and the same goes for

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-40530847591471735322011-11-02T08:20:00.000-07:002011-11-02T08:20:31.126-07:00

I'm suffocating in my suit. I want running clothes in the park, headphones on, no one talking to me or expecting me to talk back. I want to to be cold and sweating at the same time. I want the rain and wind from the sound on my face. I want to struggle to catch my breath and run until my lungs hurt. I'm trapped in a tall office building with a fantastic view. At least least nine hours of every

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-43313746593060136422011-11-01T06:11:00.000-07:002011-11-01T08:47:19.046-07:00

Chopping vegetables is one of my favorite activities of the day. We are both in the kitchen. You get the eggs ready while I gradually increase the quantity of vegetables every week. You pour the juice while I get out plates and heat water for my tea. We are together in time during our odd brunch dance, a weekend ritual I adore sharing. Something about both the routine and the ease of it all

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-34839409944037037212011-10-28T06:20:00.000-07:002011-10-28T10:08:06.913-07:00

It's a lovely container, bursting with affection, ritual, laughter, intensity and companionship. Except, I don't do well in a box, I want the endless sea. I want fresh air and ideas and unadulterated joy. I want to run on the beach that never ends, not the treadmill. I want to bring my complete self and stretch and expand even that. I want my muscles and my heart and brain supple, creative

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-5692321658705574642011-10-26T17:16:00.001-07:002011-10-26T17:16:28.859-07:00

“Go for first-rate things. Don't accept from yourself a second-rate sincerity, a second-rate sense of justice. Sometimes it seems that we are successful only because we have not tried hard enough for our best. If we don't compromise, we do the hard thing and we fail. We do the hard thing and we fail. We do the hard thing, and one day we succeed." --Maude Adams

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-14752008020138552512011-10-24T06:04:00.000-07:002011-10-24T07:46:29.405-07:00

To be of use by Marge Piercy The people I love the best jump into work head first without dallying in the shallows and swim off with sure strokes almost out of sight. They seem to become natives of that element, the black sleek heads of seals bouncing like half-submerged balls. I love people who harness themselves, an ox to a heavy cart, who pull like water buffalo, with massive patience, who

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-40524387951624182232011-10-20T22:48:00.000-07:002011-10-20T22:48:56.874-07:00

I send him probably five or six text messages a day when we're not together. Nothing terribly substantive usually, perhaps a "good morning" or a photo from my day. We both prefer to talk in person and usually have plenty of time to do that. Tonight, before getting dinner with a friend, I sent him a quick message, a request for the weekend. I didn't even think twice about it. I'm so deliberate

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-44550544725123871022011-10-15T09:44:00.000-07:002011-10-15T09:52:25.086-07:00

My Mom warned me it would be a little lonely and it is. Thankfully, I'm in the giant office with the lovely view very little. On friday, they started to peek their heads in. I have chocolate and invite each of them to sit down. One tells me, "I haven't had anyone to brainstorm with." I know the feeling. I'm leaving the office on a Friday night, around 6 pm. Half of them are still there. I hear

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-27188223457828785622011-10-12T05:10:00.000-07:002011-10-12T05:10:00.254-07:00

T: What is he doing for your birthday? Me: I have no idea. I told him I wanted flourless chocolate cake. We went back and forth quite a bit on that one. T: He best do better than your last boyfriend. Me: Boyfriend is a bit of an exaggeration for the last one, don't you think? He will. T: Give him my number. Me: He will. That's a very low bar. Also? No way. T: Give him. My phone number. Me: No.

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-31155530029152266032011-10-11T22:31:00.000-07:002011-10-11T23:15:00.023-07:00

When I return from a trip, I still expect to see Newton at home, lazy and greeting me. He's the only cat I've ever known who didn't hold a grudge when I went away. Something, perhaps, about being a stray made him always happy to see me. It's a good quality in a cat. He's been gone for more than a year and I still miss him. The gray cat is trying to adopt me still. He greeted me a day after I

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-90673985070283016892011-09-29T23:34:00.000-07:002011-09-29T23:34:38.039-07:00

I've decided to understand it this way. In addition to a great many people, there are a few things I derive great joy from including running, working, hiking and being on, near or in the water. Sometimes I am the happiest doing more than one of these things at a time, running on the water, hiking with people I adore etc. In the past, I've greatly resented when people wanted to take any of the

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-339682266894274322011-09-29T00:53:00.000-07:002011-09-29T00:53:00.351-07:00

I'm learning, slowly, to be still. I don't yet know how to relax in front of the TV. No matter how engaging the show, I start thinking about my list of things to do and why I'm not doing them. The 3D time though? That was good TV. That made me forget the list that never ends. Let's keep watching that show. So I'm quieter, even inside. The stress of all this change wears me down. I've lost

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-92034392331269439282011-09-28T15:57:00.000-07:002011-09-28T15:57:08.278-07:00

Him: I don't know why everyone thinks Sarah Palin is attractive. I don't. Me: I don't either. She's too infuriatingly stupid to be hot. Him: I think Hilary Clinton is more attractive. Me: Me too! Him: I'd do her. Me: I wouldn't go that far, but I'd do Bill. Him: BILL? That's horrifying. Me: Well, I'd make him wear a condom. I mean, if I wasn't in a monogamous relationship with you. Him: I just

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-29917778889562056812011-09-22T07:13:00.000-07:002011-09-22T07:13:47.671-07:00

All That Time by May Swenson I saw two trees embracing. One leaned on the other as if to throw her down. But she was the upright one. Since their twin youth, maybe she had been pulling him toward her all that time, and finally almost uprooted him. He was the thin, dry, insecure one, the most wind-warped, you could see. And where their tops tangled it looked like he was crying on her shoulder.

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-63320297505907185302011-09-19T22:29:00.000-07:002011-09-22T06:27:01.480-07:00

We started with words and with water.  And there were the words, the actual words we said, most of which carried ten additional meanings that went unspoken. We heard them anyway. Most people hear only the first meaning, not the additional ten. When the rain started, the first real rain of the season, I left your living room and crawled into your bed. The window was open (for me, until we rest)

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-29512972519516630042011-09-14T06:21:00.000-07:002011-09-14T08:07:52.269-07:00

I announced my resignation, widely, the day of the earthquake. During the shaking, one director working from a tall building called another director working on the ground floor of a different building, "Can you feel the ground shaking?" The other who, in fact, didn't feel the ground shaking replied "You mean the aftershocks from S leaving?" They tell me a few days later and I laugh. What else can

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-8653682082308980112011-09-12T06:14:00.000-07:002011-09-12T06:14:00.291-07:00

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-72582930473882122562011-09-11T08:20:00.000-07:002011-09-13T20:30:05.260-07:00

(Previous vignettes: Words, Voyeur, Ending, Holidays, Couples, From before, What not to say, Change, Restless, Mountains) He knows almost all the time when I disappear. There may be no discernible change in behavior but he almost always stops what he is doing to look in my eyes. Sometimes he’ll query, “Are you still here?” In the asking, habitually I am anchored back into the moment. When he

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-56183468303099406862011-09-09T05:12:00.000-07:002011-09-09T06:18:51.641-07:00

Sleep has abandoned me, again, in favor of thinking. I am reading, getting ready. I'm writing and trying to figure out how I feel. I'd like to show up for most of my life well rested, but that almost never happens. "Introverts process their emotions, thoughts, and observations internally. They can be social people, but reveal less about themselves than extroverts do. Introverts are more

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-33943742591519395472011-09-08T20:13:00.000-07:002011-09-08T20:23:23.577-07:00

I don't scent it yet, maybe a trip to the mountains will help, but I am antsy for change and winds blowing and crazy rain and tumultuous, white-capped seas. In a month or so I start a new professional opportunity where I'll have the chance to stretch my wings even more. I'm so grateful for this giant prospect to work with people I admire and respect. I'm learning, perhaps, how to be in a

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-84881876993132385662011-09-07T06:20:00.000-07:002011-09-07T12:52:58.083-07:00

By Naomi Shihab Nye Letters swallow themselves in seconds. Notes friends tied to the doorknob, transparent scarlet paper, sizzle like moth wings, marry the air. So much of any year is flammable, lists of vegetables, partial poems. Orange swirling flame of days, so little is a stone. Where there was something and suddenly isn’t, an absence shouts, celebrates, leaves a space.

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-4926892605256103732011-08-30T06:02:00.000-07:002011-08-30T06:02:11.337-07:00

I change the alarm ring on my phone to crickets, only because I couldn't find birds. "Hell," he tells me before this adjustment, "it sounds like a nuclear disaster when your alarm goes off." I rather want the noise to be alarming, I like shocking myself into the day at ungodly hours. He's often in bed until 9 am or later, usually a good four hours after I wake. But now I wake to crickets. It's

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-48532589477070577172011-08-25T18:19:00.000-07:002011-08-25T21:35:15.989-07:00

I've been spinning for a month, perhaps a little bit more. So many crazy good things have happened this summer that I said to my Mom on the phone, "Not sure what I did to deserve all of this, but wow am I lucky." She quickly and fiercely countered with a Mom version of "Bullshit, we make our own luck." I'm negotiating details for brand new, huge, exciting opportunities. I'm developing a new

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-54723461791857407682011-08-23T04:27:00.000-07:002011-08-23T06:56:46.760-07:00

I've been addicted to this CD for about a year now, off and on. Isn't this a fantastic version of basic space? Neck, chest, waist to floor Easy to take, you could take me in fours Make me a deal, a day a piece Take it all, just stay a week I'll take you in pieces We can take it all apart I've suffered shipwrecks right from the start I've been underwater, breathing out and in I think I'm

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-11791438630719892522011-08-22T21:39:00.000-07:002011-08-23T07:05:47.668-07:00

I didn't run for a few weeks, first due to kneegate2 and then because of busyness and competing priorities. Eventually, I started to feel like I couldn't breathe. Sunday, I ran to help clear my head. I ran in the hot sunshine and thought of answers and strategy. I ran, only 3 miles and felt dramatically better. Tonight when I got home, there was soft rain and wind blowing autumn into the house

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-63265716939899659832011-08-22T04:37:00.000-07:002011-08-22T08:07:18.334-07:00

I sent her two texts. Me: Suit or no suit? And assuming suit, what level of suit, casual or formal? Her: Of course, suit doll. I say formal. (Also? Don't you wear something suitish daily?) Me: Done. And hair up or down? (Ish. Yes.) Her: Whatever you want. Own this. Me: Thank you much. Later, gator. And in case you didn't know, it's a 6.5 million dollar budget. Her: Own. It. I'm spreading my

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-58607685231725952752011-08-16T06:01:00.000-07:002011-08-16T06:01:21.287-07:00

He brought us to one of my favorite places and we stayed in a house directly on the water. We cooked amazing meals and soaked and slept to the sounds of the sea.  The sea was sometimes savage, even in the summer. The herons were out daily and we walked and took in the magic of the blue hour, nightly. There were wildflowers in bloom. Including close to the sea. The starfish kept

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-12536093937652882672011-08-12T07:43:00.000-07:002011-08-12T07:43:42.535-07:00

We went away—far away—for a long weekend. We started here.

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-73372674381030438692011-08-10T14:19:00.000-07:002011-08-10T14:19:52.604-07:00

This is my favorite running song, lately. Though I'm still running very short distances while we see how kneegate II turns out.

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-33075261002808407832011-08-09T05:11:00.000-07:002011-08-10T06:08:10.276-07:00

We are walking in an urban park that he introduced me to, on his side of lake. We are testing my knee and exploring his world. He's told me about this park and sent pictures of it but our urban park time, thus far, has been spent in my favorite parks. His is quiet and hidden, of course. There are water sounds through most of it and animals to see. My knee is fine, we loop twice and test running a

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-90477314014085723182011-08-05T06:49:00.000-07:002011-08-05T17:58:42.654-07:00

In the gym locker room, is it inappropriate to ask a woman where she purchased her gorgeous bra?  I didn't, but really wanted to.  When family calls, only in the middle of the workday, is it safe to assume they don't actually want to talk with you because if they did, they probably would call in the evenings when you might be able to actually talk? Or perhaps that is simply selfish.  How do

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-56033931912097228312011-08-02T18:11:00.000-07:002011-08-02T21:15:05.441-07:00

Me: Do you have any tattoos? Her: Me? No. Further I have never even dated anyone with tattoos. You? Me: No. Jews don’t do tattoos. Her: Really? I had no idea. Me: Two words for you: Amy Winehouse. That didn’t end well. Her: You’re going to hell. I meant I didn’t know you were Jewish. Me: Ish. ... Him: Of course I feel better, don’t I sound better? Me: Go home. Listening to you talk hurts.

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-71342404203849756562011-08-01T06:07:00.000-07:002011-08-01T17:43:00.555-07:00

Already I have spent many more nights with him than any man I have dated in 6 years. This is a concept he can’t wrap his brain around. He wonders why I’d leave if I was having a good time and why I wouldn’t want to spend the night with someone I care about. I’ll think about this more later, when I’m alone, if I am alone. At some point on Sunday, I stopped being able to breathe and I

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-54505670871787324552011-07-29T06:25:00.000-07:002011-07-29T11:20:27.266-07:00

I finally slept, for what felt like the first time in far too long. It’s election season (local friends, look for your primary ballots in the mail and please VOTE!) amongst other things and I am poorly managing my crazy workload, demanding volunteer work, working out and oh… attempting to have a life as well. Servers, executives, democrats and family have all been calling, texting and emailing

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-83851608510232528742011-07-24T17:21:00.000-07:002011-07-27T16:10:13.861-07:00

I have slept in my own bed only one night in the past five. I am continually surprised by the little things. During a hike, when I navigated over small (not dangerous) streams on rocks or a log, I'd look up once I reached the other side to see his hand out to help me. An evening in our park. Walking in a favorite urban park, I carried only my phone. I didn't grab it to answer any calls or

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-31126615571744861032011-07-22T17:51:00.000-07:002011-07-22T17:51:06.287-07:00

(I got this email in response to my last post. I've been giggling about it all afternoon. Published with permission.) Subject line: Closing in Saw your rebelling post. Nice try, you almost convinced me to negotiate; too bad I am not Obama. My five counter-reasons (and more) why I will be in charge, even of windows. 1. The temperature will be correct. 2. Enclosed and exhaled air is

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-67216507326036842662011-07-21T20:47:00.000-07:002011-07-21T20:47:15.962-07:00

Top five reasons why I should be in charge of windows: just windows The temperature will be correct. Fresh air is healthy. You can't get sick from cold or wet, only germs. It's blissful to see and feel the outside all the time, especially while sleeping. No one will suffocate.

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-19603763166622131912011-07-20T17:41:00.000-07:002011-07-20T17:47:02.306-07:00

After three 13+ hours a day at work, I crave the sea. I usually only go to beach in the off season. My thoughts of fleeing to the shore to sink into wild waves and isolated craziness have become a metaphor. I forgot to get off the boat this evening, I was so enjoying the luminous clouds and views. The jellies were out again en force, the tiny white ones, easily by the hundreds. The larger sank

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-32666192859452380132011-07-14T23:44:00.000-07:002011-07-15T10:35:23.686-07:00

She came home and I was sitting on the sofa yelling on the phone. It may be the first time she's ever heard me yell. It was the second time I yelled at someone today though, an unusual occurrence. Much earlier in the day, a colleague was making a simple process complicated when I yelled, "Then what happens? Magic fairies complete the task?" I wasn't nice about it. At home on the phone, he did

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-22787274824774690752011-07-13T05:53:00.000-07:002011-07-13T10:17:13.730-07:00

I shiver waiting for the bus and I'm almost never cold. It's too early to take the boat back downtown, though I crave the water, the bus will have to do today. I was home for not even five hours, bundled up in the softest blanket I own, with a down quilt on top. The only time I'm consistently cold is after swimming in the sea. This chill feels similar, hot tea and layers won't work. At work

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-21301714125448319962011-07-11T20:15:00.000-07:002011-07-11T21:49:57.671-07:00

I'd go home first to shower and change and make sure everything was as perfect as I knew how to make it (maybe that's not saying much). It might be after a 12 hour work day and a board meeting. It might be after nights of no sleep. I'd still try to show up pulled together, contained, attentive. My bad day or stress didn't matter, if I couldn't give 100%, I'd bow out, knowing the evening would be

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-73344452827012826082011-07-09T09:30:00.000-07:002011-07-09T10:16:13.912-07:00

The geese were still asleep when I got to the park. After stretching a bit, I started running. After the first mile, I thought, oh I will be lucky to run 2 miles today. Around 1.5 miles, a friend who happened to be running the other direction high-fived me, in mid-stride, which made both of us laugh. At 2 miles, I told myself, you lazy bitch, at least run 3 miles. At 3 miles, it suddenly

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-56215697373391357482011-07-08T17:16:00.000-07:002011-07-08T17:22:22.331-07:00

I’m caught up in Joni Mitchell and Philip Larkin this morning—after the fifth very late night in a row—so late it’s early morning. You are sleeping. I have been at work for more than two hours. The days are blurring together. I haven’t read the news in a week. Further, I don’t much care. I have at least 10 hours of board work to do and I should spend a few sixteen-hour days at work to catch up.

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-39498810431790277862011-07-07T05:30:00.000-07:002011-07-07T08:41:07.693-07:00

When I left early this morning, the cat was sleeping, curled in circle, tail warming his face, on one of the cushioned chairs on my front deck. He’s been around for a week or two now, starting in the back yard. He’s disheveled, solid gray matted fur, striking green eyes. I may be catnapping him or he may be homeless. The man who mows my lawn tells me, "If you keep feeding him, he'll stay. You

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-59420899986001956382011-07-05T18:57:00.000-07:002011-07-05T19:08:40.083-07:00

I. Me: I may suffocate. Him: We will not have the window open in the winter. Me: Eventually you will fall asleep. I almost never do. Him: You will sleep. Me: I will fight you. Him: You will lose and I will enjoy the battle. II. Me: Is she formal? Do I need to add stockings to my dress today? I have some in my desk, for special occasions. I thought it was too hot for hose today. Her: Umm. No.

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-32384848711731034382011-07-04T08:56:00.000-07:002011-07-04T11:54:02.041-07:00

The south side of the mountain felt very high desert as soon as I hiked above the tree line. The day was bliss: wildflowers still in bloom, trail dry and welcoming, sun high in the sky, toasting my skin, which was quickly sweating off sunscreen. I climbed about 2800 feet up out of the trees, past three big waterfalls and into the giant views. I’m slow still (perhaps always) and cautious with

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-87162840360404019012011-07-01T08:59:00.000-07:002011-07-02T07:54:24.060-07:00

I. - I do care very little about grace. - Good. I am not very graceful. Starfish, exposed. II. - We studied public policy. This is a cross you will have to bear. At the end of the day, we will not talk about art, we will talk about ethics. I'm teasing. A little. Not much. - You cannot talk about ethics without talking about art. III. I almost miss the boat, but they know me and see me

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-38193436297363219562011-06-28T06:23:00.000-07:002011-06-28T13:46:51.917-07:00

I make an effort to reign in the full force of both my passion and my sarcasm with equal measure. I take myself away when either becomes too much for those around me. The later we talk, the less sense we make. We both know this and yet, when I try to go lick my own wounds, you refuse to let me. I think you understand this bleeding has nothing to do with you, you’ve only just stumbled into me

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-83528714548790729632011-06-28T00:01:00.000-07:002011-06-28T00:01:01.432-07:00

Happy birthday S squared. I so wish you were closer. Or that you weren't afraid of planes. Or both.

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-60706907103273307902011-06-25T09:49:00.000-07:002011-06-25T09:49:59.579-07:00

At my sisters second wedding, years ago, I gave the toast. I speak in public at least a few times a month and I remember it being one of my better efforts. A few nights after meeting her husband, my sister called to tell me on their first date they talked until 2 in the morning. This is something most people lasting relationships have in common. They always say something like, “From the very

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-33137715168635499992011-06-22T08:18:00.000-07:002011-06-22T08:32:22.911-07:00

I am listening to Bon Iver and reading the poetry of Margaret Atwood on the bus. I’m only getting three or four hours of sleep a night and I’m wrecked. I want to sink deeper into myself and the words of the poems are helping me submerge to that place, even for a short time before I have to be all things to all people. Today in my workday, I’ll sincerely use phrases like authentic work,

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-14426395878677922752011-06-21T08:55:00.000-07:002011-06-21T08:59:04.485-07:00

The Art of Disappearing by Naomi Shihab Nye When they say Don’t I know you? say no. When they invite you to the party remember what parties are like before answering. Someone telling you in a loud voice they once wrote a poem. Greasy sausage balls on a paper plate. Then reply. If they say we should get together. say why? It’s not that you don’t love them any more. You’re trying to remember

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-89301322652993746372011-06-19T17:37:00.000-07:002011-06-19T17:49:50.172-07:00

I spend perhaps an hour a day reading new poetry. It’s not completely taken the place of my regular rabid news reading, but the practical reading has diminished. Sometimes I send my favorites anyway, poems I’ve read again and again for years, from my preferred poets. Half the time I send a new poem, as an answer of sorts, to unasked questions. I tell him I hate the part where we say good-bye and

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-59078144883421252832011-06-16T05:44:00.000-07:002011-06-20T16:04:57.714-07:00

Him: You know I’m not fluent in latin, right? Me: I can publish a retraction if you want? Him: Stop sexting and take your turn in scrabble. Me: Please. I don’t sext. We are having heated debates about health care policy. Him: Ummm. Me: Ok. You’re right. For me, that’s pretty much sexting. Him: I know. Me: Funny you say that, I used to have a cat. Her: I can still feel him here. Me: That may

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-64661699554979231902011-06-11T15:52:00.000-07:002011-06-20T16:05:21.139-07:00

I'm cloaking myself in the comfort of your words. Your luminous vocabulary coaxes history from me in nonsensical bits. You put these pieces together and draw conclusions no one else will ever see. It's the time when I'm accustomed to hearing down words --calm down, settle down, quiet down-- words that tell me someone else wants me to be less. Instead of seeking to diminish me, you tell me I know

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-80537291061608414542011-06-06T12:30:00.000-07:002011-06-06T16:38:36.487-07:00

I swim, frequently and occasionally kayak, sail and surf. I am drawn to being on the water, even though I’m not at all gifted at any of these sports. Years ago, I took a white water river kayaking class. We spent time in lakes and in pools first to learn the boats and how to flip turn. We also did two trips in the rivers, in actual white water. The first trip was getting a feel for rivers and

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-77540823392885850262011-06-02T22:30:00.000-07:002011-06-02T22:30:04.521-07:00

I have an unhealthy obsession with creating more than one word at a time. Life lessons from scrabble? ... I found this piece from KUOW riveting: Roy Blount Jr. takes issue with the idea that the sound of words has no impact on their meaning. Blount believes language, with all of its fricatives, plosives and sonorants, is anything but neutral. Words engage the senses and can make us angry or

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-58441178319821956992011-06-02T07:30:00.000-07:002011-06-20T16:05:44.513-07:00

"If you don’t put your passion on the things that matter in life you don’t get a life, you simply live. The things that truly move you are going to make you tremble, take away the ground under your feet, and make you reconsider yourself. Own needing them and seek them at your own peril." It's impossible to hide here. The only option is to move toward this, grace and logic be damned. Lean into

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-59757931423648320952011-05-30T10:41:00.000-07:002011-05-30T10:43:33.308-07:00

Sunset in my favorite park. I keep thinking I should be healed from so many things and I'm not. The most obvious is pneumonia. I'm on round three of antibiotics and actually feeling better, but the things that used to comprise maybe 20% of my day wipe me out. I'm attempting to pep talking myself out of laziness, except I have pneumonia. Everything I've read and heard from my doctor says both

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-40722098254707300472011-05-29T22:24:00.000-07:002011-05-29T23:31:41.408-07:00

(Great to see new readers from Yes and Yes. Thanks for visiting and welcome.) My best friend lived in a co-op in Austin for most of her college experience. I visited often my senior year in high school, before I left Texas forever. The co-op had no AC, and as a result, everyone wore very few clothes, if any at all during the summer. The roaches scattered every time I turned the light on in the

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-30327803722083664112011-05-25T17:49:00.000-07:002011-05-29T05:47:59.549-07:00

C: Outside of building your crossword puzzle vocabulary, what's it called when you use bigger words than are necessary? E: Pompous? A: Obfuscation? Me: Sexy?

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-59969419841222342462011-05-24T04:13:00.000-07:002011-05-29T05:48:20.118-07:00

It starts with dinner. You have to ask. If you don't want to take me to dinner, you're not interested enough. Over dinner, I'll learn more about you. I'll learn what kind of liquor you drink or don't and I'll notice and remember if it's coke or if it's bourbon or if it's both. I'll see how you treat the staff and if you know how to listen. I'll learn your laugh and get a hint of your scent and

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-49889737066567222412011-05-23T17:36:00.000-07:002011-05-29T05:50:28.642-07:00

Him: So bummed I wasn't raptured on Saturday night. ;-) Me: Yah, I know what you mean. I could sure use some rapture on a saturday night. I'm pretending I've forgotten the phone number for rapture. Him: lol Me: Not to overshare, but I haven't been raptured in MONTHS.  How much does that suck? Very, very much in case you're curious. Him: Welcome to Married life without the headaches. Me: Yah?

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-44984921100403507612011-05-18T06:23:00.000-07:002011-05-29T05:50:51.063-07:00

Words matter: When on my A game, I have a robust vocabulary and I use it frequently. What I say matters and should matter. I'd rather spend some time in silence than use words carelessly. I'm not a woman who needs to fill silence and I'd always prefer to believe words than be suspicious of them, including my own. Listening matters more: I'm quite inquisitive. I'm most drawn to things I don't

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-60079725696398058342011-05-15T09:17:00.000-07:002011-05-29T05:51:37.461-07:00

I've always had an irrational fear of doctors and even more so, hospitals. I've spent a lot of time in hospitals in the past 7 days, though not for me. I'm getting sicker and from everything I've googled, I need (more) medical care. It's likely the pneumonia is worse and I've finished one round of antibiotics already. Everybody is lecturing me about taking care of myself, but now is where we

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-39477848841156166122011-05-14T19:58:00.000-07:002011-05-14T19:58:29.346-07:00

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-72830445568039092372011-05-13T11:20:00.000-07:002011-05-29T05:51:57.196-07:00

I have not unpacked yet. Yes, that’s a metaphor. In the past week, I’ve traveled to three states, all of them all the way across the county and in a few hours I will be in another one. I was home for less then 10 hours. Long enough to sleep, not long enough to begin healing. I have a smokers cough and I don’t smoke. It hurts to swallow and every time I cough I want to cry. Not only does it kill

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-41748898152259784292011-05-08T20:50:00.000-07:002011-05-09T04:13:09.235-07:00

I. We are having lunch and despite my trip across the country, it will be the only 2 hours I spend alone with my sister.  It's a casual lunch, while the kids are at school. She's wearing jewelry that equals the net worth of my house. She asks, "Don't your girlfriends stop you? Why the hell do they let you do that?" I'm puzzled. "Sweets, I'm 37. I can't remember the last time anyone let me do

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-24825435317225232822011-05-06T20:32:00.000-07:002011-05-08T20:52:48.530-07:00

I. The house is at least six times the size of mine, situated on a lovely 1.5 acres a few blocks from a train to NYC. It's a gorgeous remodeled early 1900's house with several staircases, high ceilings, incredible light and landscaping.  The house is amazing, full of character and joy. It's a home. As soon as they leave, I'm alone with two kids, the most amazing little beings, that I am fully

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-7460805187605490652011-05-05T00:32:00.000-07:002011-05-05T00:32:00.669-07:00

And some I do No problem is the new fuck you. I know, you're a really busy guy. It's far too early for these negotiations. Nah, don't ever friend me on facebook. That's just a private website for me and my closest 700 friends. You won't make the cut. Not a single excuse is surprising, new or (likely) true. Mostly I hear blah, blah, blah. This meeting would be better over bourbon. By a

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-66864622035272451352011-05-04T05:04:00.000-07:002011-05-04T05:04:42.050-07:00

People who don't know me very well say things like, "You must really be looking forward to that. Won't that be a fun vacation?" At 37, I finally don't even pretend it's going to be that. I brace myself instead. I'm carefully hidden away. I'll get off the plane, Bobbie Brown's bright eyes hiding the circles and I will be whatever everyone needs. She says to me, "I want to take care of you for a

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-5270379667917263322011-05-02T22:07:00.000-07:002011-05-02T22:08:49.191-07:00

If, like me, you’ve ever thought, “Wow, I really need therapy.” Followed quickly by something along the lines of, “Or instead I could run, hike, work, laugh and drink more bourbon with friends.” Then you should watch this, in its entirety. I love the Houston accent and the dry message and oh the humor. There’s so much to appreciate about it, especially: "Knock discomfort upside the head. And get

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-80156169183918345972011-05-02T05:58:00.000-07:002011-05-02T06:02:34.895-07:00

I didn't learn from my parents the things I think normal Southern girls learn. Instead of "put on bright colors when you're feeling sad" or "how to wear eye make up and create big hair" or "how to support your football player boyfriend" or "be sure to get your Mrs as well while you get your bachelors," I learned the following: Hard work pays off It's important to take care of your family (

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-49116113901172233622011-05-01T10:33:00.000-07:002011-05-01T10:39:50.593-07:00

The ten year old came over and put his arm around me. He's an inch or two shorter than me now and already his feet and hands are bigger than mine. His Dad and Grandpa are tall, it's likely he will be too. He grinned at me, "S, I'm almost as tall as you." I laughed and told him honestly, "When I first met you, at four years old, I had a mental picture of the day you'd pat me on the head. I just

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-24572562210208776802011-05-01T02:43:00.000-07:002011-05-01T02:43:00.440-07:00

I. Today I ran 5 miles in the sunshine and did 30 minutes worth of yoga on the beach, feeling certain this was a good recipe for sleep. It was an amazing day in the PNW and I soaked in as much of it as possible, while attempting to wear myself out. I've never learned to successfully shut off my head. My insomnia is incredibly cyclical and I'm in the bad part of the cycle.  I try to get as

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-47857385718763164252011-04-30T13:03:00.000-07:002011-04-30T17:00:49.924-07:00

I can go anywhere by myself and frequently do. Bars, mountains, beaches. Movies, music, dinner. International trips, backpacking trips, visits to the doctor. Except for the doctor, I have a pretty good time by myself too. I sometimes picture asking a man in my life to go to a wedding that I’ll attend in the Fall. He’d say yes. I wouldn’t get a long lecture about that not fitting into his plan

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-5541613669325580252011-04-29T22:03:00.000-07:002011-04-29T22:03:29.249-07:00

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-18950235405525027892011-04-27T21:40:00.000-07:002011-04-27T22:06:16.617-07:00

It's raining and 39 degrees in the end of April. My temperature is still in the triple digits. The board meeting just ended, my work day started 15 hours ago. I've decided to pretend I am not sick. Maybe it's mind over matter, so I wander around downtown, trying to find a bus that will bring me home. I remember that alley. And that parking garage. That's the restaurant we used to frequent. We

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-9252870652704718482011-04-25T21:38:00.000-07:002011-04-25T21:57:45.215-07:00

I went for a run anyway. Despite the 101 + fever and splitting open the nasty cut on my big toe (again). I went for a run when most people would have gone straight to the doctor. I was fraying, from the text messages, personnel problems, personal problems and a lack of endorphins. I ran three miles and every single breath and step hurt. I'm guessing this cold is now in my lungs because I had no

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-63023040324057884922011-04-24T14:12:00.000-07:002011-04-24T14:12:42.799-07:00

Seriously y'all, Johnny Cash covering Depeche Mode.

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-85796961403191250092011-04-24T09:12:00.000-07:002011-04-24T09:13:22.189-07:00

- Happy Easter. xoxo - We so need Easter brunch. - With mimosas! - How are you so cheerful at 9 am? - I'm a morning person, i generally wake up happy. - Have you had coffee yet? - No, this is the natural me. Not chemically enhanced. - Sometimes you're scary. - Are you ready to go yet? - Pick you up in 30. - Yay, thanks Grumpy! - You're welcome sunshine.

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-24533470877385355342011-04-20T20:46:00.000-07:002011-04-20T20:46:45.685-07:00

 I. - So if he gets this job, he'll wear a suit and tie everyday. - Is that a good thing? - Oh yea, I told him if he wears both home every night, I'd probably jump him at the door. - No doubt he'll accept the job for that particular bonus. - Hehe. Do you like a man in a suit? - I don't dislike a man in suit. But I must admit, for sheer attraction? Give me muddy jeans or carharts that have seen

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-54600861970297166172011-04-20T18:11:00.001-07:002011-04-20T18:19:30.185-07:00

And just like that, I became the woman who posts cute video of animals to the internet. Stop judging me and smile at the penguin. You know you want to. You'll love this more with the audio on.

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-34768853305666259942011-04-18T22:17:00.000-07:002011-04-18T22:17:06.004-07:00

- Do you really think she's up to paneling with us? Will our awesomeness overwhelm her? - They're not bad guys, despite being white guys in suits who lurk in hallways and evidently don't introduce themselves. - Too late. I am in some kind of strange EASTSIDE parking garage hell. It will be a miracle if I ever find my truck again. - DO NOT mess with Texas Women. And our bourbon. - Of course

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2501592081824622480.post-48653523154857697992011-04-17T21:46:00.000-07:002011-04-17T21:46:59.076-07:00

Happiness is brunch with dear friends, a sunny day at the farmers market, a lovely sunset walk on the water and a clean house. Can we have two more days off please? I could use more days like this. Fabulous Farmers Market finds: Cilantro & Mint plants, local cheese, salmon, flowers, apples and spinach. View from an early sunset walk. Bliss.

seaoutofhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02855156911520306748noreply@blogger.com