It's White-ish! Our big snow storm is now a spitty little rainshower, but they promise it'll change over to a big white dump. We'll see. Yummy Holidays to everyone...back in the New Year. I'm taking the week off again...just like last week. We're moving the boyfriend in and traveling to my Mom's. Stay safe and find time to look up at the stars!

She made it!

Niki and her Dreamboat made their fiery journey across Australia to their new home safely...with a few new tales of debauchery to add to their anthology that we can't wait to hear! Phew.

Four more days till I'm no longer a single mom...till I no longer do all of the dishes...till we get to kiss and make up for real. Yay.

What a pissa

Got searched for I like to pee my pants today. Not I pee my pants and I'm worried about it because I'm old enough to type and use a computer and I shouldn't be peeing my pants so I want to find out what I can do about it. No. Not that. It was I LIKE to pee my pants. Okay then. Thanks for sharing.

Ghost in the machine... It took two days for the last post to show up. Where has it been?

Ice Castles I loved that movie with Lynn-Holly Johnson as the ice skater who goes blind in an accident and finds her way back to the rink and competition with the loving support of none other than Robby Benson-the sexless male star of the 70's. Well, that's what upstate New York's looking like right now, one great big ice rink and my poor little car the figure skater on the verge of a tragedy. Took nearly 2 hours to get Tyler from school (early dismissal) and back again. What's with the people who drive those honkin' SUV's and feel the need to come barrel-assing up behind me at 300 mph then shoot over into the passing lane, flying past me at the speed of...well..something that shouldn't be going that fast in a friggin' ice storm people! Damn. I'm going to have a bowl of ice cream and go take a nap. I may brave the storm later today to rent that movie and buy some gummy bears.

Nuclear Winter? Shit. That was why I dreamed about walking down this long highway that was all pushed up with grass growing in the middle of it, totally impassable by car-but no cars anyway. What's going on? Now we're threatening to nuke Iraq? Jesus. No wonder I can't sleep anymore.

Just a thought before I nap... The house is such a mess, everywhere I look piles of paper, books, magazines, mail, notebooks, stuff. They inch higher and lean towards one another more every day like little old ladies at a funeral, holding one another up. I can't recall ever experiencing this kind of perpetual fatigue before. After Tyler was born perhaps, but even then he at least held my interest. I would stretch out next to him on the bed while he slept, his cheek mushed up and that sweet milky breath filling the air between us and though I was beyond exhausted I would watch him. What was I looking for? I think for myself. I think a part of me disappeared when he was born, the part of me that wanted to take care of me first. It's taken years to get that part of me back and here I am feeling like the most self-inulgent person on earth for using my 4 days off to sleep and eat and read and sleep and eat and read and sleep and... But I can honor what my body is telling me-sleep. It's okay to drag myself to the kitchen every two days to deal with the pile of dishes in one shot. So what if the floors haven't been vacuumed in weeks. Nothing wrong with Chinese food. Vitamins? We'll deal with those when they no longer make me vomit in the kitchen sink all over the dirty dishes. Laundry? Hmmm. That has to get done today. Surrender. That's where I'm at. Why fight it? That just makes me even more tired.

We got our Christmas tree up-an accomplishment and a half-I know why my Dad always swore up a storm wrestling the tree into the stand every year. I was ready to push the bastard out the window and ride it down the four stories-my pink fleece jammies flapping in the wind. Egads. But it's up and decorated and Tyler's so twinkly about it-looking at every ornament and telling me his version of each one's story. It almost makes up for the fact that I haven't done a stitch of shopping yet and have no money to do any in the first place. Kiddo wants to bake cookies, but the thought of a bowl full of butter and eggs and sugar and flour and vanilla makes me want to toss my cookies, so I don't know if that'll happen this year.

Home birth is approved by the insurance company! Yay. Now we just have to find a home...

Having anxiety about this administration pushing this war with Iraq. Keep dreaming snippets of war all interlaced with my own strange subterranean inner filmworks about the people I love. Not sure what to do with it. It's adding to my general upset stomach. I read the latest updates and wonder if the media will ever be a tool for promoting the facts for the people of this country ever again. Lies. All Lies. It makes my heart beat too fast.

Twelve days till Mr. Ohio becomes Mr. New York. The twelve days of Christmas...oh, I'll have to get to work on a list for that one.

Day late Happy Freakin' 40th Beautiful Birthday Allelujia to Ray Blessed is the day that brought Ray!

In my own home I met with the midwife Julia yesterday and feel a thousand times more relaxed about this than the minute before I walked in her office. My biggest fear is having to go back to the hospital, having had my power ripped away from me in about 3 seconds flat with Tyler's birth. I know I'm in a much stronger place now but hospitals are such dismal and sterile places. Julia is pretty sure my insurance will cover most of the cost of a home birth. A home birth. My dream! It's amazing to me that the insurance is happy to fork over a minimum of $11,000 for a standard no complications birth in hospital, but won't cover the full $5,500 for home birth. Our world is such a fucked up place-where the most natural thing-the way in which every soul on this planet begins, birthing through a woman, is treated as a medical emergency and the woman is told not to trust her body, not to believe that she can do it without the fetal heart monitors, the IV, the epidural, the 18 hours on her back, having her water sack broken with a giant white crochet hook without her permission or knowledge, having her 3rd degree tear stitched up "nice and tight for the daddy", wink-wink...

A home birth. Holy shit. I'm still high from this information. Have to verify it with the insurance, but Julia said she's done it with Oxford already. Now we just have to find a house with a little bit of land so I can wander around talking to the plants and the trees and the birds, can let a tree support me in my squat, can be under the sun and the moon and the stars...instead of under the fluorescent lights and bad recycled air.

On a completely different topic, did you all make it over to High Water yet today? If you didn't you should. George has got quite a piece about Kissinger over there. I don't get too up and at em about much political-although I can feel some birth practice rants coming on...heh heh...but this whole Kissinger thing, him being appointed this post to head up the investigation into whether or not the government fucked up with preventing 9/11...um, did I miss something? Isn't he a criminal? Hmm. Love George's Henry as Dr. Strangelove speach. Damn. If you're interested in what Henry's been up and into, check out icai.

Boyfriend Now a Blogger... He's diving in and forming his own little addiction. How on earth he's going to keep up on posts what with having to pack up his entire house and move in 3 weeks and find a job here in Ny and do all our dishes and laundry and litter scooping for the rest of his natural life...well, I have no idea. But I support him one million percent. And so should you. Besides, he loves me. What more can a girl ask for?

No apologies Apparently someone out there in blogdom believes I stole their blog name. Don't know how that happens, but I've seen it before. After my divorce I had this book I was going to write about conscious divorce and I'm looking at the giveaway pile at work and there it was staring up at me. Just published. Conscious Divorce. Bit of a bummer as I was hoping to pay off my credit card debt with the big advance I was going to get...but hey, it happens. It's a great big planet with a lot of people using it. Imagine my surprise to find out someone had once again come up with the same idea I had. Baggage Carousel. Hmmm. Still wasn't very nice of this person to call me a bitch though. Not nice at all. But hey man, thanks for the link, it's brought a few people my way. Dare I say, get over yourself? Yep. I do.