Flights of Fancy

There are some damn fine people in my life. Some of whom stick up for me when I don't even realize I need stuck up for. (Stucken up for?)

Allow me to elucidate.

My favourite airline decided to have a seat sale.

A seat sale that would allow me to fly to *mumble* theothersideofthecountry *mumble* if I so wanted to in August when I have some holiday time booked.

I stumbled upon this seat sale four days before it was over and I kind of went into overdrive.

I debated the merits of flying to the *cough* othersideofthecountry *cough* and I talked to Smith about it and then I continued wondering if it was a good idea and then I tried to figure out if I should or shouldn't but if I didn't would I regret it and shouldn't I live a little and what should I do because it was a BIG savings on a long, expensive flight that really I would need to save money on if I went but should I go and I have only how many days to decide?

I debated back and forth mentally for a while and two days before the deadline, I emailed my buddy (hi buddy!) and asked him what he thought. My buddy has done a long distance relationship before and my buddy flies a lot and my buddy is a guy and is therefore very sensible in his advice giving. Which I appreciate.

He told me, flat out, not to buy the tickets right now. He told me it would put too much pressure on the (non) relationship for the next two months and that he thought seat sales were a bit of a scam anyway. As I babbled on about WHY I thought I should, but really WHAT should I do, he then came up with a sanity saving offer.

"Don't buy the tickets now," he said. "What's the seat sale price?"

I told him.

"OK, here's what you do. If, in August, you still want to fly out there, you give me that amount and I'll get you the tickets through air miles." (Yes, he flies a lot. He is a flier. He's important and smart like but not technically a spy. He may become one though. We're still deciding if he's cool enough)

I was floored and flabbergasted and fantastically fappy. (That's "Happy". But it doesn't start with an "F". I had to improvise.)

Just like that, my buddy had taken my mental stress away. I was no longer worried about getting tickets in time to save money. I was no longer trying to figure out if this was something I actually wanted to do. The weight was off and the relief was palpable. (Damn, I'm just full of good words today!) It was amazing, and I'm so grateful.

I'm not sure I thanked him profusely enough, but in Smith's words, "You tell Buddy that he's a stand up guy."

He is indeed.

I am incredibly lucky... I have good people.

They keep me grounded.*

And sane.

Ish.


*Heh. Flight joke unintended, but funny!

How To Create an Awkward Silence in Three Easy Steps

A couple of weeks ago, I went out to a show with my buddy.

I met him at his place and we headed off to a restaurant to meet some of his friends for dinner before the show.

After dinner, I was munching my way happily through the chocolate icing on my chocolate dessert when my buddy mentioned that he had an extra ticket for the show. He started calling some people to see if they wanted to come, and I said I didn't mind who joined us as long as it was a cute, single guy.

Well, let me tell you, the silence that came after that remark was so heated, you think I'd just suggested we all go out and poke puppies with sharp sticks.

I looked up and glanced at my buddy's friends and realized that they had all assumed I was his girlfriend. His girlfriend who just asked for him to bring along a cute, single guy.

D'oh!

My buddy hung up and looked around right as the guy next to me said, "Did you just say what I think you just said?" while everyone else stared at me.

It was awkward, so I did what any sane person would do.

I shrugged, smiled weakly, and went back to eating my dessert.

My poor buddy just looked around, got no answer from anyone, shrugged, and went back to making some calls.

Dude. I've never felt like such an accidental idiot.

I guess I just found another, previously unknown, difficult thing about having male friendships.


(Er, I should add....that's neither my buddy nor the show up there.)

Shadow!!!

I don't think I told you about Shadow.

I told you about Buddy, my squirrel buddy, right?  Well, about a month (or maybe two weeks, I DON'T KNOW TIME WORKS WEIRD) ago, I noticed a black squirrel running a similar route to Buddy's.

So, because he looked like Buddy but a lot darker (we only generally have grey squirrels here) I called him Shadow.  You know, like he's Buddy's shadow!

Shadow, a bit after I first noticed him, started running by with little apples in his mouth.  (Yes, I'm assuming all these squirrels are boys.... just like I assumed all the ants were boys... and just like as I kid I named everything Alice for a while.  I just... do these things.)

I was all proud of Shadow, getting a great store of things not too much smaller than his head to eat and I told him so as he ran by.

I did, however, wonder where he was finding these mini apples.  But hey, I'm no nature-ologist.  (Yes, I know that's not a word, shhhhhh)

This week, I noticed that my favourite giant tree had hangy ball-things on it.  Chestnuts maybe, again... no nature person here, and I kind of went "huh"... because I'd never seen this tree with nuts or whatnots on it before.  But hey, maybe I just haven't noticed before or something.

So imagine my surprise when I was on the phone the other day and gazing out the weekend and watched a clever little squirrel out on the edge of a branch, fiddling away with HEY!  That's where Shadow's getting those apples!  They're not apples!  They're... chestnuts or whatever it is that tree is making and well doesn't that make more sense!

So now I'm even prouder of Shadow and whoever else found that food source and squirreled (heh) it away for the Winter.  Good job guys. 

So yeah.  Shadow.  Not apples.  Gathering.  Cute!

Like Ships, Passing In The Night

I have a squirrel.  I call him Buddy.

At least, I assume it's just the one guy.

There's this squirrel you see (let's just assume it's the same one, ok?) and a few times a day he runs along the roof I can see out my window.  So I call out "Hi buddy!"

And then, after I'd said it for a while, I realized I'd named him.  My squirrel buddy is named Buddy!

So I have a pet.  And I don't even have to feed him or nothin.

Go, Buddy, go!  Off to wherever it is your little hopping legs take you.  See you next time!

Awesome!

I got back on Sunday and went for a walk to stretch my legs.

Thank goodness I did because I ran into my Buddy. Hi Buddy!

As if that wasn't enough, Buddy nodded at the store I was just about to enter.

"Halloween candy. 99 cents."

He showed me his bags, full of awesome, tasty Halloween candy and I practically exploded with excitement!

Six dollars later and I have enough candy to feed a small army for a week! (Well, ok, the candy wouldn't actually feed a small army for any time at all, but humour me here)

I mean people, I got a box of fifty of those Twizzler and Nibs things for 99 cents! Fifty! For 99 cents! That's practically free! (Ok, I know my Math's not exactly perfect either, but hey, let's let that slide too shall we?)

So if I'm typing a little fast over the next few days you can thank my Buddy. He is the candy deal finding guru.

Ninety nine cents.

*shaking my head at the awesomemess*

Awwwwwwwwww!

So my buddy (Hi Buddy!) and I were chatting about my boy/dating/not-dating situation on Adium and he was telling me to just enjoy "it". . . . the whole boys asking me out when I've spent enough time complaining to him about there being no boys asking me out or some other such thing.

I told him that it's all just a little bit easier when you're only thinking about dating instead of having to actually work your way through it. And to close my succinct and wonderful discussion, I typed in a "sigh" to express my difficult, trying situation.

Buddy, being the steady, straight thinking guy he is, responded with "I think you just mis-typed 'smile'."

Awwwwww!

I told him that that was the cutest thing he'd ever said and that I was totally going to post it.

And then I swore him to secrecy since I don't have a blog and if I did I certainly wouldn't have told anyone I know about it. Right, buddy?

Right!

The Non-Date

Up until now, Bird and I have really only been movie buddies; watching videos or catching a movie together every once in a while. So, when he called me this weekend to ask if I wanted to meet him at a local pub I didn't really know what to think.

And, people? Let me tell you something. The only thing harder than trying to figure out what to wear on a date? Is trying to figure out what to wear on a "I don't think this is a date but what if it kind of is" kind of thing. You don't want to look like you think it's a date but you don't want to look not-nice just in case it has the potential to be a date, but if it's just a friendly thing and you look too date-like you'll make things weird. Girls, I know you know what I must have gone through, right? And guys? You're probably thinking the dude wouldn't have noticed what I was wearing unless I showed up naked, right?

So, on my way down to meet Bird, I called my buddy (hi Buddy!) and asked him, "How do you know if something's a date?"

"If you're wondering?" he answered, wisely, "Then it's probably not a date."

Damn.

But seeing as I didn't know what to expect (like, is he meeting friends down there or will it just be the two of us) and since we haven't ever really hung out before not either on a couch or in a movie theatre, I'm pretty proud of how brave I was heading down to meet him. (And I know y'all are proud of me too)

Turns out it was just the two of us and we sat and chatted and he ate and I didn't (yet another future post there, my friends) and HOLY CRAP things keep falling down in my bathroom and freaking me out I told him I felt like we were in that scene from Jerry McGuire where they take him to a restaurant to fire him and Jerry realizes it's so that he can't make a scene.

See, last time we'd hung out, I told Bird that I wanted to talk to him. Now, please note I did not say "we need to talk" because, really, I was the only one who *needed* to talk, I was just hoping he'd talk back after I was done. And, all in all, it worked out well talking there because it wasn't a serious conversation but I still had the help of a Gin and Tonic to loosen the flow of stubbornly stuck in my head words and thoughts.

The downside to that helpful G&T is that I can't exactly remember all the details of what Bird had to say, but I do, thankfully, remember the gist of the conversation.

I basically told him that I wanted to make sure we were on the same page and that if either one of us started straying from that page we'd let the other know. I told him that I wasn't sure where he stood with things and with me, but that I wanted some clarification so that I could, you know, figure out the page. Or something that I swear made more sense at the time.

And guess who just texted me. Oh, irony, you can be so sweet.

So Bird and I are friends and like hanging out and that's all there needs to be to it right now. Neither of us seems in a space to be (or want?) a relationship right now and darn it if I'm now cursing myself for not asking him if I was someone he might want to be in a relationship with, but, whatever. The complication for me, of course, is that I need to make sure I don't get too emotionally invested in this guy, which, as it's been pointed out to me, can sometimes be hard when the guy is good to cuddle. And Bird is. Unfortunately. Fortunately.

I'm not really sure what else to say about it at this point, partly because there's a very cynical part of me that keeps saying "this guy's just not interested and is taking the easy 'I'm not ready for a relationship' route while still getting to hang out (and maybe even cuddle sometimes) a cool chick, how convenient for him." And that part gets countered by another part of me that says "you know what? You're a big girl and if you want to hang out with this guy that you seem to be attracted go, go right ahead, just take care of your heart and don't get too attached and see what happens." And then there's the *other* voice that says "dude? Just get it over with and sleep with him because you know this is going to end badly and you're going to get hurt so bad and so you might as well enjoy it while you can" And, let's not forget the final voice that says (accompanied by Disney music, by the way) "oh, but maybe he is the perfect man for you and it will all work out just perfectly in the end and this is only just the beginning of a beautiful relationship."

But that voice doesn't get much say because then the other three voices start arguing about how Bird's this and that and not my type and not good for me because and blah blah blah and so, yeah.... I'm probably making this far more complicated than it is.

Bird and I are just friends.

I'm just not sure I'm entirely buying that.

From my end, at least.

And Then There Were Two

There's a gal who spent some time in our spy cave this fall learning how to be a super duper spy. We got along great and became friends. (After the required ninja-skills battle, of course)

So this friend of mine is similar to me in that she loves to set people up. I don't have much luck with this seeing as I only know a couple of single guys and, well, to be quite honest, my Buddy (hi buddy!) is tired of me trying to set him up with any girl he's anywhere near. Sigh.

But anyway, Spy Girl has tried to suggest a couple of guys to me after hearing all about my issues with Smith and declaring him "a loser" long before that thought came anywhere near my consciousness.

The first guy she thought of, she didn't pursue because she said, and I quote, "You're like me and I think you would scare him." I guess high energy random thought-filled girls aren't his thing.

The second guy she thought of she thought was great, but let me know that he had two kids. "I'm not going to date anyone with kids again, SG, thanks." She assured me that he was a really great guy and that I didn't have to worry about the kids because he never saw them.

Um, know what? That only makes it worse.

So that didn't go anywhere either.

And then I went through the crap with the thing and decided that there would be no more dating, no more relationships, for me ever again. Like-a so.

Fast forward a week.

I get an email from Spy Girl telling me about this guy she thinks I should meet. "Um, no. I'm not dating ever again thanks. Oh, and by the way I just kind of called Smith accidentally on purpose."

She emailed me back right away (ok, maybe that's all we do sometimes, is email back and forth back and forth) and said that was fine. She wouldn't tell me any more about this guy and I could just die old and lonely smelling of cat pee and calling up my loser ex-boyfriend. (Her words, not mine, but still, she got her point across effectively, no?)

"FINE!" I email-shouted back at her. "Tell me about this stupid guy!"

So she tells me about this guy from her 5 am running group (the mere idea of which nearly makes me faint) who is athletic and fit (I like athletic and fit!) and nice. ( I like nice!) She's pretty sure he's single and wants to know if she can give him my email. She sends me a photo of him and he seems cute so I say, with a dramatic email sigh, that sure, she can give him my email. But only because I don't want to end up a crazy cat lady.

So on the same day I get an email from the old co-worker guy, I get this short, friendly email from this runner guy saying that our mutual friend thought we might be compatible and would I maybe like to meet and hang out some time.

Does that explain why I was sitting staring at two emails asking me out? Wait, that came out wrong. The emails weren't asking me out, they're inanimate. You know what I meant, right?

Neighbours

A few mornings ago, I woke up, looked out my bedroom window, and saw a spider starting to make a web. 

So if you imagine my window, and then the screen that sits in my window, it made the nest on the *outside* of both, like attached to the outside part of the window sills, with a space between the web and my screen.

As it was starting, I let it know that I didn't think this was the best location for a web as there is a screen behind it and so nothing will come from this one side and I don't see an awful lot of bugs around this area anyway (knock on wood0 but to "do you" as I'm not a spider expert or anything.  

I checked in a few times while I was making my breakfast and really liked seeing the process; it's a pretty neat thing to see happen.  And they ended up with what I thought was a really nicely made web.

For the next few mornings I'd wake up and peek out and yep, my spider neighbour would be there, sitting just off center of their web.  I had no idea if they were a he or she as I am not an arachnologist and I realized that I often assume the spiders I see are boys so I just let this one not have a name or gender, but I digress.

So spider buddy hung out and the only thing I ever saw in the web was some floof of some kind (fledgling bird feather maybe?)

Well, this morning, I woke up, and looked and couldn't see my spider buddy.  I got out of bed and took a closer look and the web has been dismantled.  I have no idea if something happened to it to damage it or if the spider gave up due to lack of action (which, to be fair, I did try to warn it about!) and I googled and it turns out that some spiders will um.... re-eat (?) their web so as not to waste the silk and then they reuse it but that kind of weirded/grossed me out a bit so um, yeah. 

My spider neighbour moved in and pretty quickly moved out and I'm a little bit bummed cuz it was a pretty enough thing and at a safe distance so yeah.  No more outside spider neighbour friend for me.

Mmmmmm Distraction

I figured that a decent way to stop thinking about Bird for a while would be to

and oh my crapola I just called Smith please don't say anything I just thought it would be nice to check in and see how he was doing and as soon as I started writing this post I called him and now I can't punctuate for some reason, I guess because it's like writing in panic mode or something because that was not my plan when I started writing this post and um, I'm going to stop writing now and breathe into a bag or something because he was on the other line with his Mom and is going to call me back which gives me time to think which isn't good at all thinking is bad I should write while I wait, right? That'll distract me. Look, punctuation! I must have blood flowing back to my brain now. Whew.

Ahem.

I figured that a decent way to stop thinking about Bird for a while would be to think about sweet ex boyfriend situations.

Ok, he called back and we talked and I can safely say I'm over the urge to call and check in on him now. He's fine, now I know. Ok, moving on. No, really. The conversation was fine, moving on.

The ex boyfriend that came to mind is Leo. Leo and I dated for a few months at the end of my grade 12 year. I may be exaggerating the "few months" part, I honestly can't remember. He was a total sweetheart and I had the hugest crush on him forever, even though he was *gasp* a year younger. (I know, high school scandal, right?)

Leo and I ended up in the school musical together so we got to spend a ton of time flirting and whatnot in rehearsals. Little did I know, one of the crew, who happened to be one of Leo's good buddies and rugby teammates had his own little crush on me.

After (what seemed then like) months of dreamily dreaming over Leo and flirting and asking girlfriends to ask his guy friends what he might be thinking, it was our final show and we all headed over to our stage manager's house for the (infamous) after party.

I was a little tipsy (and Mom, by tipsy, I mean giddy with the joy of performing since I didn't touch alcoholic beverages before legal drinking age, of course) when Leo's buddy came up to me and asked if I wanted to go out with him. I'm sure I wasn't as kind as I might have been, but I seem to remember telling him that I couldn't go out with him because I was going out with Leo, since by this point in the night we'd held hands. (Thus cementing our high school romance...if only it were that easy now, eh?)

Now, Leo happened to be standing next to me at this moment and declared that No, we weren't. No dude, nope.

Which, of course, sent me off crying in Made for TV Teen Drama style to the back yard, surrounded by consoling girlfriends and cheap coolers. (Did I say Coolers, Mom? I meant pops, cold pops, we called them "coolers" back then. Ahem)

At some point, Leo showed up and shooed my friends away. He apologized, saying that he hadn't yet talked to his buddy about the fact that he liked me and wanted to be my boyfriend but that since that whole thing had just happened, he'd talked to his friend and it was all good, we could be boyfriend/girlfriend.

I stood up, somewhat staggeringly, and told him that I didn't believe him, he was just a figment of my imagination and I was just making this up.

At which point, the lovely Leo reached out and gently stroked my cheek. "Does *this* feel like a figment of your imagination to you?"he asked, and then leaned in and gave me the sweetest little kiss.

At which point, my already wobbly knees got even weaker.

Looking back, it was a very high school-ish start to our "boyfriend/girlfriend" status and it makes me feel like a big hypocrite for being so disbelieving about the dramas these teen shows Runner Girl forces me to watch I've been watching. I guess I can't claim to have had the most teen drama free youth after re-living that sweet little scenario.

But, it fades somewhat in the telling too, I think. Because, really, it was the sweetest thing. We had a great time together.

Right up until he dumped me.

Because he had to focus on his sports.

Younger guys... pfffft.

Oh Yeah

I went to a Hawksley Workman concert last week with a few good people (including Buddy, hi Buddy!) and I was totally going to tell you how awesome it was, but then I got the death plague/cold/flu and forgot.

So.

It was awesome. Like, seriously so.

The end.

Really, Really Awful

I feel like I curved my way through Summer.  There was a lot.  From Spring on, there was a lot and I wasn't particularly comfortable.

But I did what I could.  And I made my way inexorably towards the end of Summer... which for a few years now, has meant Burning Man.

This year was stressful.  Incredibly so.

There were many many times I felt it was best to just not go.  But I just kept moving forwards so that I wasn't cutting myself off from whatever might work out.

And the vehicle situation did not help at all.

I don't remember what I wrote about here, but hindsight tells me it's better for me not to just blindly trust people to carry all my eggs in their basket.  And for me to not be so concerned about bothering someone who is doing me a favour.  (I want to put quotation marks around those words but am resisting that desire.)

Burning Man opened on the 28th this year.  I was going to leave town on the 19th.  Travel slowly but surely along the coast down towards Nevada.  Going very slowly, because I'd never travelled by myself and we (Jason and I) weren't sure how many hours worth I'd be comfortable or enjoy doing a day so we planned for less than three.  (Except on the last day or two when there's not much to do besides keep going... plus we figured by then I'd be excited and wanting to arrive.)

(Repeating what I think I've blogged before) By the start of August, I still hadn't heard from the fellow who was finding me a van to take down.  (The fellow I'd given money to and who had found two vans that turned out be lemons.)  Jason had started working on possible backup plans but I was very much in panic mode.  Which tends to freeze and therefore incapacitate me.  It was bad.

I called buddy, he said he'd get on it.  Time passed.  Somewhere around the 15th, he had a van.  I started to adjust plans to maybe leave a bit later and take a shorter trip down.  I was going to be arriving on the Saturday the 17th since I was volunteering and blah blah blah one day early entry.

The van wasn't released to buddy.  I didn't know what to do.  A week passed.  Nothing.  It passes the day I had intended to leave.  I am panicking for reasons.  Many.

Jason finds an old camper van he wants me (us) to look at.  I'm feeling pretty screwed at this point.  We go look.  It's old.  And big.  I am not comfortable with it at all.  Someone else shows up wanting to buy it.  I feel stuck and pressured (I HAVE NO WAY TO GET THERE!  AND I HAVE TO GO!) so I buy it even though I try to drive it up the road and hate it and don't feel safe and comfortable and can't afford to buy another van.

We buy it.  We get possession of it on Monday.  (I was going to leave three days ago... re-jig travel plans.)  It is awesome in some ways and not in others.  No one who sells it to us (family and their Dad and brother who'd helped maintain it) feel it's in good enough condition to "get that far and back"  Jason feels it can.  I feel whatever slightly less than "horrified" is.  Terrified?  Utterly frightened?  So not ok with this?

Jason goes to town trying to get the van in as good shape as possible.  I keep trying to push the driving so I can still not drive too many hours a day... maybe I can leave Wednesday?  I book ferries.  Jason does what he can to get a mechanic friend to help him look stuff over.  They are happy with what they see.  I am not.  The license plate has no lights... they try to fix it, they can't.  The windows are sealed shut... this is not a good thing.  There is no radio.  The steering wheel is sideways.  The blinkers don't work, nor does the horn.  No one's sure about the electrical system.  I learn things that I don't really quite understand... like... solenoids.  (Did I even spell that right?  Things to do with batteries in cars?)

Jason is in charge here and I'm just wielding the VISA while trying to keep some sort of budget in mind.  New battery, ok, I'm down with things that will make it work better.  Meanwhile his truck has a major brake system meltown and he loses it and I try to help by offering to pay for parts or something and I just want all this to go away and stop and this is nowhere near fun and I don't feel ok.  Oh, and it wasn't a nice feeling to be in his (old) truck when the brakes started doing the bad thing and I just keep thinking of how I should not be taking this old van all the way to Burning Man.  This is so not a good idea.  At all.

Jason insists on things I have no desire to argue with, but what's left of my meager savings is slowly, frighteningly falling away.  New tires.  Ok, fine.  Safety first, yes please.  And the tire guys say the brakes seem fine (although the back one was impossible to get to but yeah) and suggest we get it lubed before the trip down to the desert.

Again, I know little about vehicles so trust Jason (and friends) to their smarts to keep me safe.  I'd planned (re-planned) to leave Thursday morning (after booking Wednesday's ferry and missing it...) but Jason insists he wants to take it in for oil change and lube.  I get so freaked out Thursday morning that I dry heave from nerves.  Never done that before.  This is bad.  I don't see how I can do this, and I don't feel comfortable but I don't see a way out.

Jason tells me I don't have to do it but I feel like I do (signed up for lots of volunteer shifts and work and feel like I now "have" to go... plus I said I would... and sort of set myself that task and damn... this is awful.)  Jason also tells me he's not comfortable or confident with the van and me driving it.

Great.  Now I feel like I'm going to die.  Literally.  Not in that dramatic emotional way but I actually feel like I am doing something dumb and unsafe.

Oh, and Jason also wants to get the solar set up.  With an inverter he found.  (And we had a massive fight because I kept asking questions to clarify how it all worked and he felt this was me not listening and we had to try to stay calm and explain that this was how I learned and ugh... it was the worst week followed by a week so awful we both probably should have stopped.)  And to see if he can get the fan hooked up (more electrical) But he takes it in to get an oil change and the guy there looks underneath and says no.  Your friend can not drive this as is.  Break the key in the lock if you have to, but this is not safe to drive.

Which sends me back to the vomit panic mode because I was just about to drive it.  This is so not ok.

So.  Not.  Ok.  At all... and I am now beyond what I had in savings and I don't want to do this and no one is cheering me on.

Thursday afternoon he takes it in for a brake job.  They fix... things and new brakes and oh my lord does that ever feel better and Jason is finally relieved and happy with the safety of the van and is going to rush things this afternoon to get the electrical set up.  (Even though he's not 100% confident in his electrical work... but he's pretty sure he can do it without dying.  Oh lord, please make it stop.)

I keep thinking about how both of us are stressed beyond what's ok and that at least when I leave he gets to relax.  I leave and have a week of stress getting down, a week of stress dealing with the heat down there and then a week of stress getting back.  I get no relief.  This is not ok.  I just want to give up.

I clearly miss the ferry I book on Thursday.  I rebook for Friday first thing.  Fourth booking I've tried to get to this week.

Jason fights against the dark (in a literal way) and we are both reminded how poorly we work together under stressful situations.  He is awful.  He tells me I'm being wimpy.  I tell him I'm trying not to lose it dealing with his awful mood.  It's bad.  Things aren't going smoothly and it's involving electricity which I do not like.  And he's not completely comfortable with either.  It gets dark.  I am desperate to get a window unsealed because it's awful and nasty hot in the van and I'm in Victoria... f*ck.

I tell him, in all honestly, that I'm done and not going.  His mood and the stress have killed me and I quit.  He yells back that that's fine but he's finishing this work no matter what.  I don't know how to make him stop.  I am frightened of him and the situation and I would leave him and go inside but I don't trust him not to yell at my neighbours so stick around to manage anything that might happen.  It's awful.  Why did I ever sign up for this?  I can not even tell you how awful this was.  After a week of hell.  Really.  The neighbour who is going to Burning Man shows up.  This calms Jason.  I am endlessly grateful.

He shocks himself.  Badly.  I want to cry/die.  I order pizza.  He doesn't eat it.

Somehow he finishes.  Something.  Wires.  I have power.  For... ? A fan I guess?  It's late.  I'm supposed to be on the earliest ferry.  Which means being up at 4am.

We "pack" the van.  Most of it.  Not my bike or essentials.  But the big bins.  And tools.  And whatever.

I am shaking.  Do not want to go.  Jason is done.  And mad.  Tells me fine. Don't go.  Or go.  You're going.  I don't remember.

He leaves.  I look at the clock.  Realize I can't be functional on three hours of sleep and decide I'll try for a later ferry.  I'm not getting there for Saturday now anyway... why try to rush?  I don't even think I can drive this thing onto the ferry without hitting people.  Because I haven't driven it.  I drove it for maybe half an hour.  Freaked Jason out, apparently (we didn't know but the passenger seat wasn't bolted properly so my driving felt really really bad to him) which didn't help because I was terrified of the size... plus, no rear view... plus no sense of space.  Jason yells at me that if I can't tell how big the vehicle is I shouldn't have a license at all.  I want to die.

I can't drive this thing.  I just can't.  And I can't get it to Burning Man.  But I can't not go.  I am stuck.

And so scared and freaked out I'm non functional.  And I can't talk to anyone about it because no one but Jason is really aware of what's going on.  And everyone will just tell me not to go... which I can't.  I have to go.  I just can't.

So I decide to not go for the first ferry, which means I have to move the van to a parking space that will allow me to sleep in.  So for the first time, I go out to drive the van by myself.  I don't put on a bra, because it's one or two in the morning.  I deal with the fact that the van doesn't like to start.  I drive slowly around the block.  The same block I'd driven around with Jason earlier, trying to get him to help me with seeing/feeling how BIG the van is/was.  Which is when he yelled.  Which made it all worse.  So I drive around the block.  I park a time or two and see how close I get to the curb.  Far.  It's not the size I see it as... ok.

I realize I'm driving the van by myself for the first time with no bra.  It fits somehow.  That 70s feel.  I try to take heart from this.

I tell myself I need to sleep.  But I don't.  (Of course I don't.)

I wake up at some point the next morning.  Jason has my car.  He drives over.  Gets mad that I have "so much more" to pack.  Bedding... travel bag... bike.  He loads it all.  Bungees stuff down.  I get mad.  Very mad.  Because he's packed the whole thing and I have no idea how.  I un-bungee things.  He gets mad.  I swear.  Quit.  Give up.  He tells me I'm getting on the next ferry.  Leaving now.  8 something am.  I am not ready.

I cry.  Can't do this.  Don't even want to.  I have had to try to quell the panic by breaking it down into chunks.  So all I'm going to do now is drive to the ferry terminal.  (Jason drives in front of me)  We get there.  I may not make the ferry.  He takes some photos.  I try to smile.  I am crying.  It is awful.  I don't want to do this.  I really really don't.  I will get to the other side and make a decision.  I am going to be late.  I will not make my first shift.  I do not want to drive this van.  It is hot inside the van and it's early morning.  My thermometer I got says it's 42.  Please don't let that be right.  I take the thermometer out of the sun.  It's still thirty something in the van.  It's not even 10 am.  Why am I doing this?  I do not want to do this.  I am by myself.  This isn't fun.  None of this has been fun.

Jason is proud.  Tells me so (via text.. he's not allowed in the terminal)  I feel there's nothing to be proud of.  At all.  I feel awful and am a mess.  I don't want to be here.

I don't do things on my own.  Why am I doing this?

Jason gives me some nickname from some driving movie he loves.  I tell him I'm not a driver.  I'm really not.  He's emotional.  So very proud of me.  I am just focussing on hopefully getting on this ferry.

It's now a week later than I had wanted to leave.  I have made several different driving plans.  If I can get this far, go to here.  If only this far, go to here.  I inform people on playa that I will not necessarily make any of my shifts (at this point I have no idea how long it's going to take me to get there.)  This is pretty much everything I didn't want to do.... Go in an old, unknown vehicle that I haven't driven at all until the day I left...

I am done and at a stress level beyond anything that's remotely ok and I haven't even left town.  And I don't know if it's stubbornnness or determination or un-smartness but I can't seem to not go forward.

I really had hoped to be this awesome, fun loving chick enjoying this wonderful solo trip.  Nothing in the weeks or days leading up to me being in the ferry lineup had been anything like that at all.  Not fun.  Not even close to it.  Just fear and anxiety and worse worse worse.  And no one there to comfort me.

You guys, it was awful.  So so awful.  With no break in sight.  August 26th, in the ferry lineup... hating everything while trying to be in the moment and positive.  Scared out of my mind. 

Hi

Still no computer.

Begged use of Buddy's laptop while visiting. (Hi Buddy!)

Hope y'all had a good Canada's Birthday and best wishes for the US celebration too.

I've read four books in three days. This is apparently what one does when without a laptop.

Sometimes When You Can't Seem to Put it Into Coherent Sentences, It's Best to Just Let it All Hang Out.

I'm not sad but I am.

There's a voice inside me that keeps saying "This may be your last summer on your own, so enjoy it while you can. No one else to think about but you. Cherish it" but there's also the feeling I get when I think about the things I could be doing right now. "Could" being the operative word (in my mind) because, for example, you don't camp alone. And I don't know anyone else I could camp with. The be-babied friends, the happily married friends, the non-campers but great people friends. I don't know anyone else. You camp with your family. Your single girlfriends. Your boyfriend. Your husband.

Cue the quiet voice... "Why not by yourself? Why. Not?"

But I haven't.

Camped, that is.

I have, by myself, gone for walks, sat and watched street entertainers, gone to Luminara, read five books in two weeks.

I have moments of absolute delight at my single-ness, my ME time. Moments of laugh-out-loud at a tv show and hugging myself because my company is the easiest I've ever known.

But honesty propels me to say that there have also been moments of keen missing, of feeling left out. Of sitting at home listening to fireworks because I didn't have anyone to go with. I didn't have a partner to go with.

Moments of walking through a public gathering and seeing the couples, the young families, the hand holding, the what-I-don't-have-ness and hurting.

Moments of wondering how I will ever come to meet someone when my life is limited to my work space and my coming home to get ready for the next work day space and my one, two, three communities that I put my time into. Where do I have to go? Who do I have to become? No, what part of me do I have to let out, to satiate in order to be around people, the person. Him.

Whoever he is.

And there's occasional moments of panic. Along the lines of "What if I buy a new car and drive it off the lot and scratch it?" I have moments of "If I do meet someone, I have to get to know him. I have to date. And what if I think he's something he's not. Like has happened before. In the past. Historically?"

Bird was a year ago. Exactly a year ago was Bird.

I believe I'd handle it differently now. I feel stronger.

I've been quiet about certain things since Bird. Quiet about crushes and romantic hopes and dreams. Quieter than I should have been maybe, but I felt the need to be guarded. I'm less comfortable when the lines between my life and this blog get blurry and I'm always, always aware of what my Buddy (hi Buddy!) said to me when I first started this blog forever ago that I should write knowing that it may be read by the very person I'm writing about; that there is no anonymity on the internet. So I try to write as if they're reading along. Whoever they are. And I try to write imagining how they'd feel if they came across themselves, written about, without permission on the internet.

I try to imagine how I'd feel if it happened to me.

But after a time of silence, it feels wrong, it feels like I'm leaving out part of my story. Which I am. Which I'm allowed to do.

But ultimately, this is *my* story, and I only ever wrote it down for me.

Whoever it is I'm becoming.

Whether or not this is my last summer being single, I still wish I had a best friend who was all mine.

I guess, for now, that's me.

Blogging

Someone in my family started to write a blog recently and was very open about telling us about it.

I sat down with my Mom to look at the blog with her and guide her through the whole blog world a bit. My parents don't follow blogs and don't understand them or why someone would want to write one. Or, more to the point, why someone would want to read one.

My Mom said that she thinks writing a blog is rather self indulgent; like you're assuming your life is interesting enough that someone else would want to read it.

I said that yes, maybe that's how it is for some people but for the most part it's a way to share your life with other people and I think that people who read blogs have an understanding of why blogs are written.

I told her that I feel like when I'm reading a blog I'm reading an ongoing novel and that I'm catching up with a friend and that that somehow makes me a part of their life. That I get to root for people and it makes me feel like the world is bigger and at the same time smaller than it really is.

She was upset by a post she read on the family member's blog and I told her that people often wrote posts about tough times in their life and that she shouldn't take it as a sign that the person was depressed; just going through something difficult.

To show her what I meant, I brought up a page from this blog that I wrote when Dad got sick to show her that it can be an outlet for sadness.

I sat there as she read it and watched her get choked up and I was embarrassed. Embarrassed by my writing and the fact that she wouldn't think it's very good.

I have a hard time showing my creative side to the people closest to me because I fear their judgment. Sure, I can show my photos to people I don't know, but have me show them to a friend or a co-worker or a family member and I feel like a hack. Like my stuff is awful and doesn't deserve to be shared online with strangers. Who am I thinking I'm any good.

Same with my writing. I love having you guys read it and comment on it and I blush any time someone says I've written something well. And sometimes I even believe you.

But I don't want my friends, family, and co-workers to read what I write because then it feels like I have to find out that while I'm ok, I'm not really that good.

When I'm blogging here in obscurity I can pretend that the only reason someone hasn't snapped me up to write a book is that I just haven't been found yet. If people I knew were reading this blog? That's when I'd find out that while it may be amusing at times it's not much of anything and I'm not meant to ever make anything more out of this than a web based log of my life.

I do have a few friends who read the site and that keeps me honest about what I write, like a mental gate check... Hmmm...would I want B and S and buddy (hi Buddy!) and a couple of others to know/hear this? If so, then go ahead and write it. For them, it's kind of like a shorthand way to keep up to what's going on with my life. I'll often get an email from S after a post checking in with me. "Sounds like you're having a rough day, need to talk?" But at no point have any of them had anything to say about the quality of the writing and I don't really want to go there.

So it was an odd thing to realize: that I'm embarrassed by my blog writing if I feel like people I know in real life might be reading it. As long as I can pretend no one I know is reading it I'm fine.

Great Time of Year

I had a blast at Beer Fest on Friday, due in no small part to the awesome weather. (I have the slight sunburn to attest to that)

My girlfriend and I had very serious conversations about absolutely nothing that led to riotous laughter and cheeks that were sore from smiling so much.

We saw what may be this town's prettiest man and were two sad puppies when we could no longer find him at the evening's end.

We ran into my Buddy (hi Buddy!) who proceeded to gang up on me with my friend and their ensuing "pick on Victoria" moments were only made funnier when the German "ooompa" band started playing.

We had a rather drunken guy offer to help us pee because "he has skills" and we actually ran into Bird, which was fine, because we really did have to pee so we only had time to say hi and run.

Strangely enough, I was hungover by the time I got home (strong cider'll do that to ya sometimes) so after a couple of Advil and lots of water, I didn't feel too bad Saturday. Just plain tired out.

So I rested for the day and had another nicely mellow day on Sunday.

I love this time of year because when it's sunny and gorgeous out it feels like such a treat. Especially since we had a day or so of rain last week. Sunny September weekends. . . ahhhhhhh.

How was your weekend? Anyone offer to help you pee?

Speechless.

One of the things about navigating the internet on this borrowed computer is that I'm seeing lots of ads that I don't usually see.

My buddy (hi Buddy!) has configured my laptop so that I don't see most of the internet ad thingamies. Which is fine by me.

In fact, up until today, I thought it was pretty damn cool.

Except, now I know I've been missing things like this

And, well....I'm at a loss for words.


I think I need the leopard print.

Yeah, But Little Buddy, We Had A Deal

Usually when I see a spider in my place I gently escort them out.  No killing, just... me trying not to get too close while trying not to hurt them while getting them outside.

Either out a window (hope the fall doesn't hurt!) or out the door into the hallway to become someone else's problem.

Point is, I don't let spiders hang out in my place.  Yes, I know they're good guys but ... *shiver*

Well, for some reason, the other week, I saw a spider on my ceiling and decided he could stay.

"You can stay, little buddy," I said, "but just stay in that spot, ok?"

And for a while he was pretty good.

But now he's started adventuring a bit and I don't know what to do!!  I don't want to have to watch to see if he's going to jump on my head or wander into another room.

I also have no idea how long spiders die, or really, what I'll do if/when I find he has.

But yeah, my spider guest is wandering around a bit more than I'd like.

It's maybe giving me the heeby jeebies just a little.

Not Belonging to a Club That'd Have Me as a Member

Sometimes what makes a guy interesting is his interest in me.

Now, that sounds really arrogant and that's not how I mean it.

It's more like "Hmm, he's interested in/likes me? That's interesting. I wonder what makes him tick? I wonder what makes him the type of person that'd be interested in me?"

Sometimes a guy I might not have originally considered becomes a consideration when his buddy or my buddy mentions the fact that he wants to get to know me. That makes me take notice.

Am I making any sense?

No? Didn't think so.

Ask and Ye Shall Receive... If I Can Figure it Out, That Is

One of my (now quite possibly four or five) readers emailed and asked me if I had an RSS feed.

I responded with an intelligent... "Huh"?

So after consulting with my cleverly computer smart buddy (Hi buddy!) I can now say I have an RSS feed.

I think.

I don't really know what it's for or nothin' but if you want it... here it is.... somewhere.

Probably.

; )