Feet...Tastes Just Like Chicken

So last week, Isaac and I found a house. Well, we had seen it before, considering we drive by it all the time and it's been on the market for months, but for some reason, last weekend, we started talking about it and actually looked it up on the real estate website. Price? Would increase our mortgage by about $30 while increasing our square footage by about 400 sq feet. Not to mention it's a brand spanking new house. We went to look at it on Friday and I was REALLY hoping to hate it. Make things so much more simple. But...no such luck. We both fell completely in love. Well, all three of us, actually. Sammy was mapping out where his bed was going to go and keeps saying, upon passing "the new house", 'can we buy it yet?'.

So...pros. Bigger space, better layout, granite, tile, hard wood, in the same neighborhood we want to stay in, walk in closet, master bath, brand new house at the same price of our house now, so very, very pretty...

Cons. Our house now is fine. I would so have to eat so many words about how we got just the space we need. And, I do still really believe that and that alone is giving me pause about the whole thing. I was so proud of us for finding a house that just fit us with no extras and now, 1 1/2 years later we're going to give it all up...for what? A prettier house? A little more room? This is such a moral dilemma for me.

Next week we're going to see if we'd even qualify to make an offer (self employment creates some fun rules on that one and we're just shy of the two year rule...). If we DO qualify, we'll need to talk and decide whether we should make an offer contingent on the sale of our home. I'm wondering how difficult it would be to sell ours right now - the same climate that is making the other house a deal might make selling ours tricky. Cart before the horse? Maybe. I'm unsure how to feel. I'm excited and will admit to having mentally decorated the house already, but I'm a little unsure. I don't want to get my hopes up and I REALLY hate feeling like my current house isn't good enough. I'm torn. And really ready to have clear direction.

Music for Halloween. You didn't expect anything else tonight, right?

(everyday is halloween, ministry)

While We're Talking About All of My Human Foibles...

I had a doctor's appointment this afternoon. Yearly dermatologist check-up. I haven't had one since we moved, so I figured it was time. I get very nervous for the dermatologist. I would rather have, pretty much, ANY other yearly exam. Isaac and I had a friend who died of skin cancer and I know that my skin is prone to it, so I just get a little anxious around my yearly checks. I called two weeks ago and the doctor was booked until next September (LOVE living in a small town...), but I could see his P.A. today. Great. I've spent two weeks mapping out all of my question moles and those spots that showed up after I had Sammy (pregnancy KILLED my skin) that still haven't gone away and a few questions. Five minutes before my appointment (I LOVE living in a small town!), Sammy and I bundle up and brave the cold only to get there and have the receptionist tell me that, yes, they have all my new patient info, but no record of me having booked an appointment. I just stared at her. I honestly didn't know what to say. It was nearly like she wanted me to fix it somehow. So, I say, "You are kidding, right? I've had this appt for two weeks. With your PA." And I...wait. She clicks around on the computer some more, apologizes again and says there's nothing she can do. All the appointments for today are filled. And I do what I do when I get upset and flustered. I burst into tears. I HATE that. Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate. It's a stupid yearly check up, for crying out loud! (ha!) not a life or death thing. I could have easily expressed my disappointment and rescheduled, but instead I cry and turn and leave because I don't want to be that person, crying and talking and blubbering in the middle of their waiting room ranting incoherently. Sigh. Hate. Now I get to decide whether to suck it up, call and reschedule while apologizing for my CLEAR overreaction or just let my general practice doctor look at them during my upcoming physical. Probably the latter since I so very much love running away from uncomfortable situations...

Turning the hate to love, however, is this. I saw this, wanted to blog about it because I have SO MUCH TO SAY about it, but didn't because I know it will be met with little love from anyone else. But I do have so much to say, so here goes nothing...

I CANNOT begin to tell you how much I love this clip. I CANNOT begin to tell you how much sense this makes. I CANNOT begin to tell you how I love her eloquence and clarity in explanation. As a (lapsed) journalist, I try to explain my feelings toward Fox News often, but rarely get past the expletives and sputterings before simply rolling my eyes and tramping back to my cave. So, now, I will just point to this clip and say...yes. This. Right here. It's not simply my fierce hatred of all things breathing the same air as Glenn Beck. It's not that I have been programmed with my card carrying membership in the Democratic party. It's simply this. I cannot take a "news" organization seriously that is actively campaigning and organizing protests against the sitting government - whatever side they are on. They loose all credibility with me and I don't care their point, from then on out I WILL NOT LISTEN. Shouting at the top of your voice with all the grace and poise of Ann Coulter will not do anything except make you look foolish and discredit everything you say, true or not. That station hurts my soul. Everything I learned about journalism is routinely mocked there and while my chosen profession struggles and gasps for life, well, that station hurts my soul. I hate that it's come down to a "right vs left" conversation at all. There will always be news organizations that lean one way or another. There will always be commentators and you will know which side they favor. But this is such a new level and so very wrong. It's not what the profession should be described as. It's not what I want MY profession associated with. It's not what I signed on for, dreamt about since I was a child. I feel the need to watch All The President's Men for a good palate cleansing...

Music fitting for the post:

(icicle works, whisper to a scream)

Ask Yourself Now Can You Forgive Her?

Several months ago my former best friend popped up on facebook as a "someone I may know" based on the fact we have mutual friends. It's been haunting me ever since. I've written about 12 drafts of a message to him, scrapping them all. A few days ago, I decided to just send it already and get it over with - get some type of closure on this thing once and for all. And there the message sat, all day, without me hitting send. And then my internet had an error and closed and the message was gone. I was relieved! I didn't really want to send it after all...did I? I mean, if I did, I would have sent the first draft. Or even second. Or the letter I wrote in 2002. Or the one from 2006. Or any one of the ones I've composed in my head since he bailed on me twelve years ago.

FBF and I have a long history of letters. I've always felt safer expressing myself through words and I remember, distinctly, the letter I wrote to him telling him how much I loved him. I remember every word of the six page letter detailing my feelings and how HE should feel and why. Massive humiliation that I chose to send that one and not others is profound. When Isaac and I lived in Portland, I wrote him again, after I heard from a friend he had gotten married. I never sent it; my posterity is going to wonder why I didn't just send all of these letters and why they litter my journals and writing notebooks instead! My feelings then are similar to now. I don't know what I want out of this. Well, I DO know what I want, but I don't know if it's even realistic. Part of that 2002 letter says,

"Given everything, I certainly don't expect acknowledgement or a response of any kind. But I think that's part of why. I just wanted to try. Whether you want to see it or not, you were / are a huge part of my life. I sometimes think I dreamed up our friendship, but then I remember a time a long time ago, when I was a friend to you. I remember things you said and did and realize that we did have an unusual and great friendship. Above all, I miss that. I miss talking to you and having you in my life to joke around with. I'm sorry you don't know my husband. You would like him. He's everything you always said I should hold out for. ... I just really wanted to know how you are. I miss my friend, however corny and odd that sounds. Especially now that I am in a really good place in my life. Maybe that's it. Since you've already abandoned me in a time of need, I'm not risking a lot reaching out now while things are good. I do hope you are happy - joyous. Because even though our friendship has been sporadic and rocky and volatile at times, you are an important person to me and ALWAYS have been."

I keep coming back to the WHY I would try to contact him again. I want to make sure I understand the why very clearly before I do anything. I go through the emotions and focus on the anger. I'm so angry at him. And I compose dozens of messages to him based on that anger. Questions and accusations fly. These are the longer messages. A lot of pent up and ignored emotion goes into them. Once that's tapped out, I move on to curiosity. I would love to see how he's handling adult life. He was so good at avoiding real responsibility, that the thought of him with a wife and a mortgage makes me chuckle. So I work out wording that comes off hollow and superficial. And then, when I strip everything else away, it comes down to missing my friend. Very much. I know that things would be wildly different between us now, but even if we had a very base facebook relationship, he would be there. I could make sure he's ok. I could confront the hard stuff between us or not. I could peek into his life or not. I could have some version of my friend back. But I get scared that I won't like the adult version. The version twelve years removed and I scratch out the words, seal them up and let the knowledge of him fester some more.

I know our story isn't over. I've known that for years. I know we'll find our way back to friendship at some point, we always do. And in the very best case scenario, the one I really want to see happening, I see our lifelong friendship starting again seamlessly. I see Isaac and him hitting it off. I see me and his wife becoming friends. I see us being able to do things together. I see it being effortless and comfortable and without hurt and judgment. I know my head is in the clouds and that best case is least likely. And I hesitate hitting send. Again. Memories and past hurt are easier to hold onto; the unknown is scary. The what ifs paralyze me into doing nothing, hoping he makes the first move back and relieves me of any decision making; the easy way out. But I know that won't happen. Time will march on. I'll miss my friend. I'll silently compose more and more messages that will never be sent. Maybe one day I'll get hasty and push send; I have been known to be impatiently impulsive from time to time. Maybe we'll run into one another. Maybe nothing will ever happen and I'll go to my grave burdened by regret; words unspoken weighing heavily on my spirit. Right now, I just don't know and that's all I really have.

Music for a snowy cold Wednesday:

(porcelain, bte)

Bah Ba Ba Bammmm....

It's snowing this morning. As in actually sticking to the ground and still coming down snowing. I'm not sure I'm ready for this...

This, however, I'm TOTALLY ready for. Is that wrong?

I just downloaded the new Swell Season deluxe edition album. It is so very lovely. I wonder if that's what my BIL wants for Christmas....(ha! I kid!)

I'm making Sammy's halloween costume this week. He wants to be a pumpkin, so Sharon kindly came over Sunday and helped me (totally did it all herself) cut it out. I just need to sew it. Today. Along with a mini pumpkin for Momo the cat, because...I'm crazy?

I made rice pudding last night for dinner. It smelled SO GOOD. I only had minute rice and no heavy cream, so I couldn't make my mom's recipe, but I found one that swore it would be creamy. Either it lied or my cooking skills took a dive, but we threw it away. Isaac ate some and thought it was fine because "texture doesn't matter", but I spat mine out. It was watery and runny and gritty and just not good. I'm so sad. I may have to have a bowl of rice and raisins this afternoon to tide me over until I can figure out what went wrong.

I went to the dentist yesterday to get some cavities filled. My first since we lived in Portland. I really don't like the dentist, it always makes me twitchy. My jaw ends up throbbing for days (I have TMJ), etc. My sister kept telling me that this dentist is a genius, that she fell asleep during a root canal kind of genius, and while I didn't NOT believe her, I thought...eh. He's a dentist. She DID NOT LIE. The man is a freaking genius. Two fillings (and no numbing for one of them), a redo filling, 45 minutes, no pain, discomfort and I left thinking...wow. That was...what did he do? That was it? I was giddy leaving the dentist. When does that happen?

I have a post I started writing and put it aside out of...fear of backlash? I was reading this post yesterday and couldn't believe that the 'homework' was eerily close to the post I had started and gave up. Maybe it's time to brush it off, embrace that honesty everyone keeps saying I have and post anyway...tomorrow.

Music to pretend your warm to:

(jack johnson, banana pancakes)

I Could Have Danced All Night...

Sammy misses my sister, Sharon, a GREAT deal. She went back to work full time this year and he just doesn't understand why she isn't as readily available for his every whim as she once was. So when she needed a lunch out last week, we quickly agreed. During lunch, we decided Sammy needed his first sleep over. Plans were made for Sammy to go over Saturday night and stay the night, giving Isaac our first night away from Sammy since he was born. Wheeeee! What fun thing did we do, you ask? Bought an apple tree, spent 2+ hours in the ER, had Chinese, watched tv and slept without a nightlight illuminating the upstairs.

So I have acid reflux. Have had for several years. Take meds for it, try to keep it in check. It's caused me some issues before it was diagnosed (did you know heart attack symptoms in women are surprisingly similar to heartburn?) as well as a few trips to the ER convinced I was having a heart attack. Once it was diagnosed, though, I've become pretty good at distinguishing the symptoms and when they are just a little crazy and I need to adjust what I do to help get them in check. Last week, though. Last week. BAD, unrelenting heartburn which in turn made me stress which in turn made it worse which in turn made me stress (see the pattern?). I know my reflux is triggered a lot by stress, but this was crazy. I couldn't get it to go away. I felt awful, I felt stress, I felt different. So different that Saturday, while Isaac was at work, I googled coronary heart disease. Big mistake. I was completely convinced by the time Isaac got home that I was having a heart attack. So we went to buy our tree before the nursery closed and dropped Sammy off at Sharon's and spent the next couple of hours in the ER. And you know what? Totally cured my heartburn. Expensive little antacid that will be, but once my heart checked out fine, my stress went away and my symptoms disappeared. I declined their i.v. meds and tests to find random things they didn't think I had and went home. To lemon chicken and tivo. And then I got TIRED. It's apparently exhausting being stressed for a week straight...It's so fun to be me!

All of this has made me think. I have a hard time relaxing. I always have. I just don't know how. And once I get a thought in my head that worries me? Well, see my Saturday night to know where that leads (although, they don't USUALLY lead to the ER...that's saved for the special once a decade crazy!). I've been trying to find something that truly relaxes me (Isaac says I even sleep tense...) and the only thing I can come up with is leaving the house on a regular basis to DO something. But heading into our first real snow of the season, that seems...less than fun. So what do YOU do to truly relax? And does someone want to get me my very own on call masseuse for Christmas this year? Maybe that will help.

Music heard at the dentist this morning, just for lbs:

(bronski beat, i feel love)