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emmy [AT] curious-notions {dot} net
October 2010
« Sep   Nov »

puttin up with my shit way too long

Lame lame lame. I haven’t posted in a month? So random catch up blog ahoy!

  • Bear made me watch the whole 34 minute Runaway video. The only part we agreed on (as in both loved):
  • Bear and I caught the colds from hell. I took naps on the couch at work for multiple days in a row. That is how tired and out of it I was. NAPS PEOPLE. I hate napping but I cannot tell you how much I looked forward to those 30 minute naps.
  • Bear and I are becoming awesome friends with Mr and Mrs Right. :)
  • Left has kinda disappeared on us and that is worrisome.  :(
  • We love our neighbors.
  • We have raked a million trillion acorns that have fallen from trees.
  • We are doing a great job eating at home even if it means frozen meals
  • The sun going down at 6 instead of 9 is actually contributing to us feeling tired I think. I’m not looking forward to the time change.
  • I have a bunch of fall foliage pictures from around the neighborhood but the laziness kills.
  • I found out someone I know in person is reading the blog. Hi!
  • It’s probably because Linda links me. She just can’t let me hide back here.
  • I’ve been working until 11pm a lot (> 3 times) this month. This MIGHT also be contributing to the tired/lazy.
  • I have a hard time balancing my hobbies. Blogging is easier when I am spinning/knitting and not so much when I’m reading. I dont review books. You wouldn’t want me to either.
  • Sick and tired and cold and rainy this last month has meant that I’ve been reading. A lot. I’ve blown my book budget for this month like crazy. (It’s not as bad as it sounds. My book budget is like …$20?)
  • Bear vacuumed at 1am the other day.
  • Bear almost died at 1:30am the other day.
  • After we got the new boiler/heater, we paid 2 guys $40 to remove the old castiron oil heater. This resulted in a MASSIVE greasy rusty mess. I cannot describe how black and sticky and gross this stuff was and it was ALL over our basement floor. Bear wouldn’t let me clean it. Bear wouldn’t clean it. It sat and mocked us for 2 months. Then Bear surprised me by having it cleaned while we were at work this week. I came home and went to put clothes to wash. When I opened the basement door, I screamed “BEAR SOMEONE WAS IN OUR BASEMENT!” and of course he was already anticipating this so he was right behind me so I screamed at him “DID YOU DO THIS?!”
  • Bear has been deriving an immense amount of pleasure from the look on my face and the idea that I would have thought someone would break into our basement to CLEAN.
  • I’ve been living in a state of conflict. One the one hand YAY FOR THE BASEMENT AND FOR BEAR BEING AWESOME AND SWEET. One the other hand, WTH WE COULD HAVE CLEANED THAT OURSELVES! The yay part of me is winning. Also Linda and my mom yelled at me for not falling all over Bear. They think he’s the shit.
  • My mom had surgery. I was disproportionately freaked. Linda went way beyond the bounds of friendship and visited her for me at the hospital. She blogged about it here and here.
  • The clan is losing their collective shit over Halloween. Normally we reserve this for Christmas and New Years. I can’t wait for pictures.

Shadows of your song

So I got linked to a few posts about love (mostly romantic and parental) in the last day and almost every one left me cold. Which is strange despite the fact that Linda will tell you I am often not impressed. Love tends to get to me. I’m a romantic. Not just the love that comes with sex, but all love. I love parents who adore their kids and kids who adore their parents and friends who love each other and people who fall in love with a partner. Maybe my problem is that I like my love messy. I love the kids who are adopted and abuse every trust they are given until their parents break and then realize they’ve got an uphill battle of earning what they were given for free. I love parents that abandon their kids and then break their kids trust and then crawl over broken glass to prove that they do love them and they are over whatever caused them to act that way. I love the friends who adore each other from 3000 miles away or who forgave one of them fucking the other’s significant other. I love all queer couples and interracial couples and people whose partners are transgender. I am the biggest softy for love that has been strained and torn and abused and abandoned and then is picked up again and mended and displayed with all of its defects.

I tend to not think of Bear and I in any of these lights. I tend to think of Bear and I as the most plebeian boring couple ever. I don’t live in a reality where we are an interracial couple or where we were long distance for years or where we met on the internet right smack when the internet was new enough to be super frightening and old enough that it had become easy for predators and users to be present. I ignore how I was underage and Bear just over the legal line when we started talking and how he could have gotten into trouble. I close my eyes against the memory of my mom threatening to disown me if I talked to Bear again. I ground through a lot of our past (and present and future probably too) problems. Clinical Depression. The IRS. Immaturity. Inexperience. Fear.

This isn’t the blog post I had planned on writing. I read the other blog posts about love and I thought to myself, you know what love is? Love is getting up every night to get your partner his medicine because he never takes care of himself. Love is putting up with unending days of questions about how you feel and how you slept and smiling and working to answer her questions and telling her that you love that she cares about you. Love is taking out the trash. Love is telling her she smells nice when she comes and cuddles you and puts an elbow in your kidney. Love is shutting up and letting your partner talk. Love is being pissed at your mother in law on your partner’s behalf and still saying she can come visit whenever she wants because you know how much it means to your partner. Love is losing sleep so your partner has company during some of the hours where insomnia is winning. Love is cleaning bathrooms and floors because your partner shouldn’t have to breathe toxic chemicals. Love is putting his toothbrush head back on the sonicare after you brush your teeth and putting his toothbrush head case for him after he brushes his. Love is killing the flies and spending hours researching house maintenance and lawn care.

For all that I find dramatic, compelling and heart melting, what really gets us through the day are the random kisses on the insides of wrist and the head scratches that last until a hand falls off. What really makes me believe in love and in loving someone are the grinding stupid sweet daily things. The ones that feel like moving a mountain a single pebble at a time and the ones that are so tiny but make the mountain feel like a balloon.

(Dear Linda, probably I should have named the blog post “make you feel my love” but I think I might have already used that and for some reason I feel like the title I did use fits much better even though the song it comes from might not. The song is Ready to Start by Arcade Fire. Its an awesome song.)