Someone PLEASE Kill My TV (and the neighbors sweatpants)

J and I went to the River Run Cafe in Plainfield for breakfast this morning.. it was mm, mm, good. Grits and cheese and spice and bisquits for me. J had ribs (I'm blocking from my brain that they were actually called 'baby ribs') which I actually urged him to get. When we go out anywhere I want us both to order food we wouldn't normally cook for ourselves which means I dissaprove of his ordering eggs and home fries. I don't eat land animal meat, let alone still attatched to the bone, but I pushed him. He loved them and we both left incredibly satisfied, still tired from a long work week which isn't yet done with him. We returned home for a nap. Ahh, to wake and eat and return to sleep. Life as lazy dogs. I would usually feel bad for spending such a beautiful afternoon this way but I slept in the sunlight coming through our guest room window to feel somewhat connected to the world outside. It was lovely and when I awoke J was off.
So here we are, dog and I, home alone again. We've walked, shopped, read, made a salmon ceasar salad with avacado for dinner and now blogged. It's only 7:28. Time is creeping by. I don't want to watch TV but I so want to watch TV. It's my newest addiction, I desperately need a 12 step. But it's so easy and it passes the time without sleeping and feeling completely depressed. I have to admit I've fallen into this TV trap often lately. I can tell you the names of at least one person surviving American Idol, despite my outward loathing for the show and it's disgusting degradation of it's money generating conestants. I can tell you what happened on the last Grey's Anatomy and House and Cold Case. Eww. I feel grody. But what else to pass 10pm to 12:30am with? How to stay awake for J and zone out after work? I should kill my TV but what would I do then?
I've gone through some clothes. I'm trying to bring a little color and style conciousness to this town. I am not up to date with the latest fashions or attempting to pretend in the least that I am some kind of trendsetter but... please, god, sweatpants are never ok outside. On our walk today dog and I saw way to many of these and they're always grey and baggy and dirty! Why? I think that was the ultimate demise of this town or maybe... since it's big fall as some kind of thriving business center for the region people have just given up. They have nothing but their sweatpants left. Everything else has dissolved or worn away and they've tossed it all onto their porches to show the world "look what we used to have, it doesn't look like anything but junk now but really, it was all quite something." Maybe I'm just being mean. I'm sorry. I don't mean to be I just hate seeing people give up and the town that I live in continue to fall apart despite it's ridiculous slogan "On the Rise!" perpetually mocking itself and the people trapped in it (being me and I don't want to be mocked, see I'm just fighting back).
So, please, I'll plant hydrangeas if I have to in the front yard in a giant SOS to get the attention this place needs. Some kind of fashion mercy army come save us all from ourselves. Kill my TV, clothe the people in real pants and shirts that don't have cartoons characters on them, cart the trash away, paint the houses and rescue those of us who need a little more of a life (that means me!).

Poem for a White Saint Paddy's Day

Snowdrops by Louise Gluck

Do you know what I was, how I lived? You know

what despair is; then

winter should have meaning for you.

I did not expect to survive,

earth suppressing me. I didn't expect

to waken again, to feel

in damp earth my body

able to respond again, remembering

after so long how to open again

in the cold light of earliest spring -

afraid, yes, but among you again

crying yes risk joy

in the raw wind of the new world.

Spruce Peak - The Breakdown

19 Weeks!

The Beast Emerges

So we hiked Spruce Peak yesterday! 19 weeks and 2 days pregnant and realizing, sadly, my body is not in the same kind of pre-preggers shape I imagined it was. It was a gorgeous day and we dedicated it to the outside world, somewhere, anywhere. I actually suggested Mount Worcester which we didn't make up to the top last January when I had been running every other day! I have dreams of running and biking for miles and miles and I've allowed myself the dissalusionment that the only reason I'm not doing these things is because it's been 20 below. Otherwise, I'd be running the marathon this May! But I broke down 3/4 of the way up just like I used to do when J first started getting me to hike. It was the running joke that we'd know when we were almost to the top when I started to cry. I always knew I was going to make it but there'd be some really loud voices in my head saying "what the hell are you doing? you're not this person! you're not in shape! you're pathetic!" I ignored them and honestly, focused my frustration on J, secretly. He'd be cruising along up ahead and I'd think "damn you! damn you for pushing me and wanting me to be somebody that I'm not". And everytime he'd considerately stop and offer water I'd almost burst into flames "you condescending ..." Knowing full well I was only mad at myself and that it was welling up and soon it would come pouring out. And then there we would be, some beautiful mountain, sun shining so kindly down and my face wet with sweat and tears and my body hyperventalating because I'd held it in along with my breath for the last quarter mile up. J would want to laugh, not meanly just knowing how close we were and that I wouldn't want to mention the break down the rest of the day and how proud and happy I'd be at the top and how high I'd feel all the way down.

I made it, of course, and the second I did I felt fine. Absolutely fine, my wobbly legs seemed to strengthen, my composure returned. We stopped, breathed, enjoyed the view and started back down planning dinner and the next day. How far away that summit is now and any of the frustration or pain. I imagine that's (a little) what birth may be like. It takes place during one day (hopefully just one) and it's a marathon and more and you take your tiny steps in it probably not so sure that you really can make it until you do. And it's over and all of a sudden it's a part of your past.

So, where are we hiking next weekend?

How does that make me feel?

This is such therapy I've realized. All this venting and editing and being free to live somewhat uncensored and then realizing you're the only one censoring yourself at all. I do censor what I write on here. I was thinking about that big task of spilling "100 things about me" that I've seen some bloggers take on and I started a list yesterday while working at the cafe. I got to #3 and then I threw out the paper. There's a lot I'm sure I could jot down quickly but could I really come up with 100 interesting and at the same time non-incriminating details of my life that I wouldn't be deathly afraid someone I know might see? I guess not. I'll be trying though for the next however long. It's my newest goal. Ah, to have to goals in life....
Really though, I don't know how long I'll go on journaling here on the world-wide web but it has been my own type of catharsis. I'm not one who's ever allowed myself the indulgence of 'real therapy'. Personally, (and I mean this with complete respect to all the loonies out there who really need therapy) I can't really imagine spending that much money to make someone listen to me whine. I've got J for that and he's free. And now, of course, I've got you. So I'll try to come up with more interesting insights into this random new blogger's life.

House for Sale (dog not included)

Crazy dog looking not so crazy. She loves the new loveseat she's not supposed to be on. It probably doesn't help her discipline issues that I think it's adorable.

So this is me trying desperately not to think about all of the problems we're dealing with in this house. Anyone want to buy it?

My New 'Twang...

That sounds a little dirty. Anyways, I was just thinking how I could really write a country music song at this point in my life. All they have to be is depressing right? Well.... my cell phone got fried (it was our only phone), our jeep broke down, the furnace suddenly stopped working last night and I'm pregnant and freezing now... It's cold in here, damn cold (this would be the refrain). I'd have to throw in somewhere that our house is a money pit and I have rodents living in between the floors.
It's really a lovely scene. Romantic. I keep reminding myself that this is somehow romantic! A hard spot in life can usually be looked back upon as sweet and naive. Like in five years from now I'll look back at this very moment and say, "Oh, wasn't that amazing! And we had no idea that winning powerball ticket would be in our hands just days later!"
That's what I'm counting on. Winning powerball and spring. Which ever comes first. Once I can reach the ground without digging through 3 feet of snow I'll be happy. Once I can drive five minutes to our swimming hole and rock sculpture playground and splash around all big and pregnant and happy.

Make Up Homework....

My favorite Valentine ever!

My fabulous strawberry chocolate cake.