It has been a wonderful, rainy cool (90's) weekend here, and I have spent it in bed with my new favorite male:





In fact, I have spent every spare moment of the past 2 weeks with him. I am hopelessly enchanted.
I don't read much anymore: it poses a great liability to me. Either a book is mundane, and therefore a total waste of my most precious commodity--time, or it captures me totally and I am completely unable to put it down. Thus it has been with dear Harry, Hermoine, and Ron. They have possessed every spare moment of my life for 2 weeks.

I didn't "do" the HP thing. My dear ME has loved them, devoured them over and over: movies, books...whatever. You see, she grew up with the kids. She has been their age with every step of the journey and has read and re-read the books, waited in line at bookstores for the latest release, waited at midnight for the latest movie...in short, they have been a very important element in her adolescent years. I, however, have avoided them like the plague.

I didn't "do" the Star Wars thing either. I LOVED the first movie--I drove to the nearest theatre (45 minutes away) to see it no less than 5 times when it came out--I was addicted. Then I found out there would be a second. And a third. And so on. At 5-6 year intervals. And I quit. I remember telling my friend that I refused to be 30 years old and getting a baby sitter so I could go to the movies to see what happened to Luke Skywalker. And I haven't, to this day seen another Star Wars movie. When I am done, I am done.

I think this is all a supreme example of my fear of addiction. To anything. I am, as you might have guessed, something of a control freak.

Anyway, back to Harry. I saw in the newspaper several weeks ago that a local church was doing a study group on the Potter series: not bashing it (as is the norm, here in midevil Georgia), but embracing it as important literature and as a classic tale of good vs. evil, worthy of study and contemplation. Both because I am looking for ways to have quality time with ME (she is a senior this year, so I am savoring this "last year together"), and as a way to become, if only on the fringes, involved with a church that I could respect--if there is such a thing--I offered to read the books if she was interested in going with me. And here we are.

I finished the last book last night. And I am spent. Totally wiped out. And wishing that there were more. These characters have become part of me somehow, which is, I think, part of the obsession with them. I wish they were true. Wish that there actually were wizards that could wave a wand and fight the evil in the world. Wish there were witches who would give their lives to try to make it all better. Wish there were dark lords of evil that could be defeated and that with their defeat all would be right again. Wish we all could find it in ourselves to unite for good, to find a way--any way--to embrace each other as equals and to try--no, to fight for that special something that unites us. To live and die with the understanding that it is, after all, all about love.

It is a good thing I didn't start this series years ago when it came out. I don't have the patience. I would have imploded if I had been forced to wait for a year or so between each book. I simply don't know how millions of people did it. But I am grateful that I have read them. I will read them again, and again, probably. Just not this year. I have a lot to do--especially now that I am 2 weeks behind! At least I have finished the books so I can really enjoy our discussion group. And if you haven't read them--well, I guess you could say I recommend them. Just be sure you have all of them available so you can pick up the next one as soon as you finish one. Believe me, after number 3 you won't be able to wait.

"I'll give you something to whine about...."

I am sure many of you who are in my age range recognize this phrase--actually, it was more of an "I'll give you something to cry about" back then. And it evidently still holds true for me. In the midst of my self-pity I got sick--nothing serious, but enough to make me stay in bed for an evening when I wanted to go out and have fun. Fortunately I am better now. Lesson # 298--when you are exhausted, don't push it. You WILL find time to rest, one way or another. Anyway, after about 14 hours of sleep I am a new person. Still a bit worn down, but better over all. And this morning it was cooler--hopefully it will be under 100 today!

I made a "house call" today for a friend--her baby is sick, and I just felt better eyeballing him and taking over some medicine after talking to her on the phone a few times. She is an amazing person--perhaps the most positive person I know. She has had an unimaginable year--discovered that her husband had a horrible drug habit (which explained a lot) and sent him to rehab while she maintained her house and her job while taking care of her 18 month old and her newborn. Her longtime constant companion, a great dane, died a tragic death which she witnessed, and this morning, after being up all night with a sick baby her 10 year old cat got out and was literally torn apart by a pack of dogs. Through it all she maintains a gentle spirit of grace and forgiveness. She is someone whom I have never heard utter a negative statement, about anyone. I watched her today, bathing a two year old and juggling an 8 month old who was burning up with fever--after burying her cat and with only a couple of hours of restless sleep and all I could see was calm, kindness, and peace. And I had the audacity to complain about my troubles. The universe constantly has a way of humbling me; eventually, hopefully, I will get it.

It has been a long week. A wallowing kind of week, made longer by suffocating heat and just sheer exhaustion. Like the chicken/egg thing, I don't know which came first--the exhaustion or the wallowing. Either way, it is miserable.

First of all, the heat. Over 100 degrees every day--no rain. The trees are wilting, the grass is crunchy, the sky is a relentless, mocking blue. I hate it. I discovered several years into this drought that I like rain--no, I love rain. There is something innately wrong with cloudless blue skies day after day after day--like a face that has been botoxed into mask-like perfection. It makes me uneasy. It is not to be trusted.

And, I am tired. I think my body is still on the summer schedule of going to bed around 11 and getting up around 6:30. Now I go to bed around 11, but I get up at 5. I am clearly too old to sacrifice even one more moment of sleep, so I have been groggy and grumpy. Couple that with it being a week where I work AFTERNOONS--yes, seeing patients in the afternoon every day. I am a morning person. By 3 pm I am not at my best; in other words, I don't really care why you brought your kid to see me. If he/she isn't dying, you are wasting my time. Compassionate, huh?
Fortunately, I am usually able to schedule my patient care in the mornings and early afternoon--there are just occasional weeks when it doesn't work out that way. Add to that the new interns and students who don't really know their ass from a teakettle and, well, I get a touch sour.

All of this leads to: you got it--wallowing. I feel old. I feel like a failure. I look at my friends: vice presidents of hospitals, directors of programs, etc. and I think "what the fuck did I do for the past 10 years?" Devoting myself to saving a doomed marriage was clearly not worth it in a lot of ways. I am 46 years old, and I feel like I will be working until I am 96 to get the kids through school and get myself financially stable. So what am I craving? A convertible. And a new, big rock. For me from me. Neither of which I can have. So now add whiney, petulant, irritated and spoiled to the mix.

Yes, the only thing that sucks more than being me this week is having to put up with me. Poor children, interns, and students (but not the patients--I can fake it with them til the cows come home)! Maybe it will rain soon. Or I will enjoy a long night of sweet, dreamless sleep. Or, I will just get over it. That is usually what happens--I just get over it. Please, make it soon!

Visuals....

as requested, and promised, here are the pictures for the meme below....my favorite tea and glasses...the pictures just don't do them justice!

I finally got my dining room unpacked. It is amazing just how much shit you can accumulate! I really enjoyed going through the boxes and wondering why I have some of this stuff. A lot of it I just kept boxed and put in the attic. I put away my big set of china, and kept out the beautiful antique set that is smaller (8 place settings) but has more interesting pieces (double handled cream soups, berry bowls, etc.) People sure used to know how to eat. I packed away tons of silver. I also realized that I made a very sound decision many, many years ago, when registering for crystal. The sales lady was "concerned" that I didn't want both red and white wine goblets, and that I opted instead for water goblets (my reasoning--the wines were almost identical, and the water was right in the middle, so I figured--who would know?) She was afraid I would regret my decision, but after unwrapping 12 waters, 12 iced beverages, 12 sherbets, 12 brandy sniffers, 12 champaigne flutes, and yes, 8 red wines that people gave me anyway I came to the final realization that it was OK. By the way, did I mention that I don't even drink wine?

My favorite "WTF?" was the set of silver julip cups we got from my brother for Christmas about 8 years ago--2 large ones engraved with my ex-husband's last initial (my mother and brother steadfastly refused to acknowledge that I kept my maiden name, and insisting on referring to me by my "married" name) and smaller ones for the kids engraved with their initials. Yes, my children have their own engraved julip cups. I say again, WTF?

I also got a laugh at the 30 or so antique flower frogs I have collected. They just tickle me to death--I mean, with a good frog you can arrange flowers in ANYTHING! But 30? I have them in all sizes and shapes--prickly ones and glass ones--even a green depression glass one...they fasicinate me. Besides, I am a collector--it is a genetic thing. I think I may have enough...but you never know...and oasis is for sissies.

I also got 2 of my father's clocks running--which makes me very happy. They are like reminders of him, and I treasure them more every year. He was a collector, too, and my clocks are a reminder of that part of him--quirky and wonderful.

Then, I hung pictures! Lots of pictures of the kids, and a couple of paintings that I had not hung, and some beautiful pottery wall hangings. So, a busy, busy day! Can I go to bed now?

Here's some Total Momsense

anyone else relate?

My glass.....

I have been tagged by my precious Peaches for an interesting meme. Liv has already given it a whirl, so here goes! Try not to read too much into it!
Tell us:

1. How full is your glass?

2. What kind of glass is it?

3. What’s in the glass?

Reasons for #1, #2 and #3.


1. My glass is almost to the top--just enough room is left to comfortably get it to my lips to drink with out spilling it.

2. It is a beautiful hand blown deep azure fish glass.

3. Peach white tea, unsweetened, with tons of ice.

Reasons?
1. Like everything else in my life, I like as much as I can comfortably hold without spilling!

2. Hard to imagine, I know, I wish I could find the box it was packed in so I could unpack it and take a picture--when I find it I will post a picture. I found it in Maine at a glass shop (I LOVE fine art glass)--it cost way more than I should have spent, so I bought all 4 (see #1 above). They are a lovely irridescent deep blue with green and purple overtones, and subtly shaped like fish. I know, I really need a visual here, but those glasses touch my soul.

3. My favorite cold drink of all time--I hate sweet drinks, yes, even the famous Southern "Sweet Tea" (an old hang up from my anorexic days), and I have a real issue with hot drinks being hot, and cold drinks being cold. The only thing I drink at a reasonable temperature is Evian--has to be room temperature....

So, now you know the dirt on my drinking habits! It's actually interesting to try to figure out the whys of what you choose! I'd love for any of you to try it and see what you come up with! Since I know you probably won't though, I will have to tag a friend: Deb, have a go at it!

Pity Party Over...

My deepest and most heartfelt thanks to all of you who left such encouraging comments. I am grateful beyond words to all of you who helped me to realize that it is "OK" to just be myself. Looking back I can't understand why I needed reminding! I usually feel like I have managed to overcome the perpetual "people pleasing" that has been my life, then a simple and innocent statement derails me. It wasn't so much that I needed to feel like my comments were exciting, as much as I suddenly began to censure myself. Every entry was suddenly judged--by me--as "not interesting enough." It was a learning experience, to be sure. Anyway, thank you all for reminding me of the important things about blogging: the community of friends and support that keep us afloat when we are sagging.
I love you all...