Jul. 18, 2008 at 8:40pm

Beatin' off the doldrums...

(like fleas, SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!!)

I've been quiet.  Yeah, it's not just a state of blogging, it's a state of mind.  

Mostly, I think I'm trying to slog on, survive, and act as if everything's normal.  But like "quiet", "normal" is a state of mind, and I'm in the adjacent state right now.  I guess watching the Zoob revelers in the neighborhood drove that point home with a hammer tonight.  I loved attending Zoobilee the last two years, it was a sort of adult prom/fraternity/sorority party/Tacoma-Lovin' food&drink-fest that made my heart sing.  But I was able to lift a wry eyebrow at the puking frock-bedecked chicks with my mate; together the two of us suffered the lines and chatted with friends and reveled.  He mentioned to me last year, man, if I only knew 12 years ago when I was a young GI (prior to meeting me) that for under 200 bucks I could have my pick of easy, hot chicks and eat and drink all I could handle... hell, I'd have been all over it.

As it stood, together we enjoyed it, I got all staggery, and we would leave together.  This year, not so much.  He's in the Other Las Vegas after 10 years as a civilian, and I can't imagine wandering the grounds alone, or worse, being one of the puking be-frocked chicks.  Icky.

So here I sit at home, thinking about my deadline and about folding all my clothes and about being an engaged parent and about making my denuded bed and...it's all kind of flat and sad-ish.

HOWEVER.  Off my pity potty, I have to mention there have been highlights.  I did greatly, vastly enjoy the Lark's show last night, and seeing friends, and hearing Lance's History of Typography  (Good Guacamole, do I wish I could remember dates from Dr Reusch's Modern European History class...would have been helpful) --- Wasn't it amazing to hear the Forty Part Motet? Walking to the car with Chrism, wasn't it cool to hear the Urban Orchestra rehearse, enlivening that same formerly dead concrete slab of real estate known fondly to me as the Tollefson Triangle Square?  Wasn't it wonderful, remembering my origami-lovin' at that same location, only the day before?  And wasn't I euphoric to come home to a happy, fed kid, a clean kitchen, and a sitter not chomping at the bit, texting mid-eye-roll, as she anticipated my return?  

Yeah, to all of that.

Happy stuff abounds, truly it does.  Happy stuff like rediscovering, as a mom of a school-ager, Jane Clark Park. Rediscovering the joy of organic produce, rediscovering the joy of listening to Deborah Page at Sanford & Son. Rediscovering the joy of friendship and conversation with the Loud Mouth gang. Rediscovering the joy of a panting/near puking good run with a new friend. Rediscovering the joy of having old friends call to ask me to join them, to see how I'm doing.

But still, hell, I'm sad and lonely.  I don't have my number one Zoob date.  I'm not dressed up, and I have no place to go (except, possibly, to my unmade bed.)

Waah.