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?