for eb (and other inquiring minds)

Or...more about the trip south. Have any idea what you get when you take (2) 46 y.o. lesbians (ebony/ivory combo optional), toss in 2 cups of long distance relationship, add another 1/4 cup of mis-construed comments and mix that all together with 2 1/2 cups of emotional baggage? What you get dear friends is tears. Put me in the mind of that old O'Jays tune. To borrow a phrase, jeezie creezie!
The girlfriend and I spent some parts of our precious time together recently crying over one thing or another. The tears appearing fast and ending just as quickly. Still, we laughed more. In addition to the crying and laughing we spent the bulk of our days and nights eating, drinking, watching movies and just being together.

We took in the Nashville Zoo on probably the hottest of the hot days. Afro dude here was a big hit. I was in heat heaven. Neta, not nearly as tolerant to high heat and humidity grinned (barely) and withstood it for me. We did finish the trip with some ice cold beers and other tasty treats.

Much about this trip was the same as the previous ones. (I'll never tire of the loaded omelets or uhm..other perks, honey) and there was much that was different (Popsicle play was reeeally cool & thanks again for the b-day cake, sugar!) Neta gets a charge out of being on hand to help me experience my firsts. In the world of many things lesbian that encompasses quite a bit. How surprised was I to learn there were firsts to share on both sides? Very. How pleased? Very, very. What I've enjoyed most about my trips so far though, is the rest. I sleep like a baby when I'm with my baby.

This trip also included meet and greets; another friend, co-workers and do dee do dee do dee do deeeeeee THE PARENTS. Mom had been nagging Neta nutty about meeting me. Of course I was nervous but not worried. The meeting(s) went off without a hitch. They were both gracious, friendly and pleasant. Dad offered an explanation as to why there were two TVs running (as did Mom) and Mom talked a mile a minute. She is full of energetic verve. I enjoyed meeting them both and look forward to getting to know them better.

This trip, the longest of the three to date was also the most fun, emotionally charged, sweet and exciting. We spent every moment together, except for that last un-planned partial day and we tried very hard to keep the eventual "so long" (we don't say good-bye) out of our heads.

The first week back was always the hardest. This time was no exception. Adding to the pangs this time is the knowledge that in all likelihood we won't see each other again until December. We plan on spending the end of the year together, we will celebrate someones birthday (shhhh she's ignoring it), the anniversary of our meeting and bring in the New Year wrapped in each other's arms. We might even be awake at the stroke of midnight, doubtful, but it could happen.

In the meantime, we will try to avoid thinking about December being 5 long months away while burning up the phone lines talking each other giddy.

So.......

The plan was to fly back into Chicago on Wednesday evening, un-pack, de-compress, re-connect with D, talk with Neta, turn in for the night and prepare for work on Thursday. Talking with Neta and turning in for the night were the only un-changed parts of the plan. My flight was delayed and likely cancelled Wednesday due to weather in the Chicago area. I didn’t stay around longer than 9 p.m. to find out the ultimate disposition of flight number 4337 scheduled to depart at 6:30 p.m. After numerous delays and very little hope, I re-scheduled for Thursday afternoon. I made 3 phone calls, home, my boss and Neta. She came back to the airport some 4 hours after dropping me off, kissing me good-bye. We returned to her place, relaxed a bit and turned in for the night.

As happy as I was to spend more time with Neta it was under less than ideal conditions, I was frustrated and tired; she was tired and had to be at work early the next morning. I don’t present well in this part, so you’ll forgive me for glossing over. We talked, kissed and made nicer.

****I miss you lover girl****

Thursday morning came, after bagels and coffee, Neta went to work. I stayed “home” to keep checking the flight info. She returned at her lunch-time to take me to the airport for a 1:30 flight. We said our good-byes again and I went to check in. Thursday’s flight 4484 was delayed an hour because the Prez and Air Force One were in Nashville and at our scheduled 1:30 departure, still on the ground. Planes can’t land when Air Force One is on the ground, preparing for take-off. The plan I was scheduled to take to Chicago (and a few others) circled Nashville for nearly an hour, waiting for the Prez to split. Finally AFO took off, planes landed. My plane was emptied, cleaned and prepped. We boarded and took off towards Chicago. I called my daughter with an expected arrival time of around 4:00. Well, at 3:30 we were circling, no clearance to approach because of the weather. We were ultimately diverted to Arkansas for re-fueling and a new flight plan.

Thirty minutes later and all gassed up, the new plan was finally in place and announced. We were going to go around the weather, come into Chicago from the back-door, so to speak. We landed at 7:15 p.m. One hour and 30 minutes later, I was home. The bit more than one hour flight took 24 frustrating, tiring hours. I don’t however, want that to over-shadow the absolute joys and pleasures I had while visiting with the lovely, charming Neta and her kitties, “Kamikaze” Bobo, (up top) so named because he preys on feet and “Tail-i-tude” Lulu, who looks like she dipped her face in ink, is somewhat aloof and makes her feelings known via her tail.

I will be back honey as soon as I can. No diggity, no doubt. Thanks for the two-week early birthday celebration. You are sweeter than that ice cream mud cake. Yummy!

Say You, Say Meme

Some days eons ago, Lori tagged me to play the *8 Things We Don’t Know About You* meme game. With this game, as with others, there are rules, something about listing the rules, tagging others and telling them they’ve been tagged.
The 8 I’ll do. There must be things you don’t know about me, there are things I don’t know about me as I am still evolving. I’ll pass on the tagging. If anyone would like to play, by all means play on.

1. I am a reformed thumbsucker. My own thumbs. I sucked my thumbs from the ages of zero through 6 or 7 I made a daily meal of mostly my left thumb. Twas comforting, the sucking of the thumb especially combined with...

2. The twisty twirling of my hair. I wound my hair around my finger, usually the right index finger. I would twirl, twist, around and around until I had curlicues all over my head. My mom, not the greatest little girl hair stylist, never said a word about the twirling my hair. She didn’t like me sucking my thumb and employed many tricks and tactics to get me to stop. I did stop, in public, when I started school at four. I did continue both the thumbsucking and hair twisting in private, as private as a room shared with two brothers can be.

3. I began life as a left-hander. It didn’t come into play until it was time to learn to write. I was already by then, wielding eating utensils and the like with my left hand. When I got hold of a ball and someone commanded me to throw it, I did so with my left hand. My earliest teachers worked on me, some gently, most not, trying to convince me that life would be easier if I used my right hand. I did so, in school. Everywhere else, I was left-handed. Still today, I do most everything left-handed. I use my right when I want to write fast and in cursive. I continue to practice writing with my left. I can print very well, cursive so-so. Recently I have come to truly appreciate having near equal dexterity and strength in both the left and right hands.

4. My first name has seven letters, the middle name six and my last name five. The middle name repeats a letter and this letter appears in each name. I played with variations of the letter count and positioning when trying to decide how to sign my artwork, when I was routinely producing artwork. I wound up settling on a version that utilized letters from my middle and last name, dese ge.

5. When I was pregnant with my daughter I ate fried mushrooms from a little hole-in-the-wall sandwich shop near my job, every single day. They were made to order and thus served piping hot! They were not at all mushy from the heat lamps. I really do detest mushy mushrooms. This place served up a spicy little jalapeno dip that was just fabulous. I eat mushrooms still, though not often fried and certainly not every day.

6. There were no particular food passions while pregnant the first time. The passion was simply for food, most any food would serve. I did however, gain more weight the second time.

7. I attended seven different elementary schools; Ryerson (headstart), Morse (kindergarten, part of 1st), Biedler (the rest of 1st & 2nd), Ryder (3rd & part of 4th), Dvorak (the rest of 4th & 5th), Suder (6th and part of 8th), Skinner (rest of 8th). I remember only liking Ryerson and Skinner. Ryerson because my older brother wasn’t there and my teacher, Mrs. Stomper was really sweet. Skinner because neither brother went there and the school, with a very diverse student body which included developmentally and physically challenged kids, offered workshops in ASL.

8. I am as annoyed as this guy that my library misspelled my name on my card. I am THIS annoyed that it has taken me over a year to notice. And I am THIS annoyed that I probably won’t change it until closer to the 2008 expiration date.

Bonus: I get to see my lover girl in two days. The waiting is painful but the reward will be sweeeet!!

He says, "I just need to get back in the Bible."

“Your brother didn’t go home again Friday night and he’s taken his name and number off of the work van. What do you think that means?”

It means my brother is back to his old tricks; he is drugging, drinking, gambling, breaking & entering.

It means quite possibly inside of three months he will be in county lock-up, waiting for trial, which will result in his being sentenced to hard time-again.

It means his children, in all likihood, for better or worse, will complete their ascent to adult-hood without him.

It means I have reason to believe that it was my brother who broke into my apartment. It means that I am very reluctant to contact the detective for an update. It means that I’m hoping that when I do, he tells me the prints weren’t viable enough to run or that they didn’t match any in the system.

It means my seldom voiced predictions for his fall off the wagon were right on.

It means that I'd been hoping otherwise.

Finally, it means my mother knew all this when she asked the question, understanding that, it means the call was to spill her sadness and my role was simply to sop up the mess.

photo: (younger) brother age 13 & his dog "Queenie"

Nothing, I Got Nothing

The Wordsmiths group is back in business and I had every intention of trying my hand at the challenge for June. My story began: Hester, now hopelessly lost, has begun to question the wisdom of getting directions from the family of sea crabs she stumbled upon several miles back. She figured she didn’t have much to lose as she was already lost, just not hopelessly so. Now, of course, she no longer hopes to find her way. She’s been floating and scooting forever and a day.

The thought sprung that she might get back in the water. The traveling would go much smoother and faster in the water. She could get …nowhere, faster. No, better to stay on the sand, thinking is easier on the sand. Thinking is what Hester needs. And food, Hester needs food.

And then…blank. Poof. Every thought vanished in the wind. I haven’t been able to think, really. What with the concern mixed with glee for my newly independent son, worry over the break-in and my daughter’s reaction and recovery, frustrations following the break-in with the police, insurance agents and adjusters, and installers of locks and alarms, sorrow over the loss of a computer, joyfulness over the subsequent computer replacement, impatience with modems, noisy lines and slow arriving filters, what with all that, I haven’t been able to think, clearly.

It is quite possible though that the inability to, uhm..think may have nothing at all to do with any of those things and everything to do with visions of the South and the days and nights I will be spending there with the lovely Neta. Soon baby, soon. Boarding the plane in 10 days, whoopeee!!!!

Then again, it may not be that either. It may just be anything and every little thing these days is twisting my very short hair into itty bitty knots. Luckily, my head has left the building so I don’t have to think about what my hair looks like.