The tongue of men and of angels

Have you ever bitten your tongue so hard, metaphorically speaking, that you were afraid it would fall off? My tongue hurts this morning. Or maybe it's just my pride.
I suppose I should be quite pleased with myself, having finally learned to control my words (at least the ones spoken in anger-- I still sometimes have a hard time not automatically saying something if I think it will be funny). When I was younger-- and shamefully, even recently-- I was known to unleash some pretty harsh words during my diatribes. People may forgive, but I'm not sure they forget. So it is with great caution I proceed to even consider whipping someone into shape with my razor-sharp tongue. Still, I'm quite angry that my own self-control left me exposed to manipulation and a few sucker-punches.
I guess the first lesson to learn from this is if you're trying to feign indifference, you'd better wear waterproof mascara, otherwise all your noble intentions will run down your face in what a freind affectionately refers to as "girl goop." AGGHH! I'm so mad at myself. Where I would have been justified in being angry, I sat penitent. When I tried to say he I didn't think he was understanding me, he merely talked over me until I gave up. He also was so kind as to suggest I have a chemical imbalance (his tendency to diagnose, or rather misdiagnose, everyone around him is particularly unnattractive). And even though I don't think I did anything wrong or strange or out of character, I still heard the words "I'm sorry" flying out of my mouth. Perhaps it's because it's better to leave his enormous ego in tact, or because at the moment, I wanted to make it all better. But now I feel like I was apologizing in advance for the pain he'll eventually feel when he realizes I don't care for him one way or the other anymore. Well, let's be honest. He won't even notice.
Urgh. This may be another example of having clean hands but not a pure heart. I did what I was supposed to, but I'm still not happy about it. I think I'd feel a little better if we could just lock HIM in a pantry for a few hours to think about what he's done.

Kicking against the pricks on the party circuit

I'm pooped. I don't know if I can have another party for a while. The weekend was fun, but I came home from church yesterday and slept for three hours. Then I woke up and read for a while and slept for another who knows how long. Eight hours, I think. It felt excessive, considering I averaged about five hours per night all last week. It's only almost 10, and I need a nap again.
Anyway, the party was good. A smashing success? Hard to say. It was eventful, though. Highlights include a surprise appearance by my secret crush, a promising ring ceremony, surprises with toilet paper (I put these little music boxes in the TP rolls in my guest bathroom and the powder room-- one played "Dixie" and the other played "God Bless America"), a middle-of-the-night heart-to-heart, my cousin dressed up as and distributing Push Pops, and me getting stressed out enough at one point to go hide in my pantry in the garage. The hide-out wasn't so fun, but it's amazing what kind of clarity one can have, standing in the dark, dressed up as Alice. I'm cutting some people out of my life-- namely the pantry-fleeing inducer, the social user, and one gentleman we'll refer to simply as "Right Said Fred." Yeah, I feel better already.

Virtual Van Time

Tonight I'm with the girls, but we're not in a position to catch up like we are often wont to do. They should know that, as usual, the more things change the more they stay the same. Cliche? Yes. But in the most personal sense-- meaning I can't break out from my latest habit. Still, I'm trying to follow the advice of my good friends Casper and David (congratulations to them on their pending wedding, by the way), who consistently urge me to hold out and go for the gold. Let's just say the jury is still out on this adventure. It's looking surprisingly good, but it might just be fool's gold. And I'm currently exploring some options with some additional semi-precious, possibly diamonds in the rough. This whole lapidary/pseudo treasure-hunter metaphor isn't really working for me, though.Anyway, confidential to Rachandapameloumeilannash: I didn't even have to use the secret phrase. I'm getting that good. Or bad, if you prefer.

My face isn't bleeding anymore

A year ago was one of the saddest days of my life, but today I'm happy. And I'm looking surprisingly pretty and rested for someone who only got four hours sleep last night.

Dolce Vita

I dozed off a little while ago and had a dream that my mom (who actually IS vacationing in Italy right now) was in need of some kind of important information from home, but we weren't able to get her on the phone, so I flew over to deliver the news. But she was out at some kind of Tuscan cooking class, so I tried to speak to the desk clerk at the villa she was staying. It was very difficult because even in my dream I had a hard time thinking of words I even knew in Italian. It would come out mostly in Spanish and Polish. Something like, "Mi Scusi, signore. Czy Signora Bonnie Sego mieszka aqui?" It was terrible. But they still were able to tell me to wait for her... I guess that's the beauty of the European Union. So I went to this open field where I ran into a very dapper old gentleman wearing a very large, red hat. It looked like one of those Partridge Family-era things-- kind of a knit beanie with a bill. Anyway, he was lying in a meadow filled with golden, fallen leaves, also waiting for someone. He spoke to me in Italian and I had very little idea what he was saying, but he seemed so friendly, it made waiting for my mom (and Paul Giamatti, who she apparently was traveling with), all the more enjoyable.
I could use a vacation. As Bob Wiley (as brilliantly portrayed by Bill Murray) does, under the direction of Dr. Leo Marvin (as played by Richard Dreyfuss) in that timeless classic, "What About Bob?", I need to take a vacation from my problems. I'm SAILING! Faye, is this corn hand-shucked? And I know, I KNOW. I don't really have problems. Except I've been feeling a little lonely lately. It's all very ridiculous, of course, considering I'm positively surrounded by folks all the time-- folks I love, who love me. But you know, sometimes it just feels that way, and the solution is to hit Cabo San Lucas. Or Lake Winnipesaukee.

And then some

Last night I was playing domestic diva. I'd cleaned my house over the weekend (including cleaning out my closet, which I'm quite proud of). In anticipation of some pals coming over for a little visit, I made some banana bread. As it baked, I waltzed through my house, congratulating myself for creating such an inviting environment. But then my friends called and cancelled on me so I watched half of "Emma" and went to bed. My thoughts, as I began to doze off, were "How sad that no one but me got to partake of this delicious banana bread and my comfortable home."
About ten minutes later, I heard some rowdy yelling and my doorbell ringing. My neighborhood isn't exactly what you'd call ideal, so I thought about ignoring it, but then my phone started ringing and it was this crazy guy who'd come with some of my other friends to see me. At 11 o'clock. P.M.
It was a fun time. I didn't make it to the gym at five this morning as I'd planned, but you know, I guess I'll just go after work. No biggie. It makes me happy that these folks would drive all the way out to my house.
This is not what you'd call relavatory, but that's what's happening. And it seems better, at least at this stage, to talk about the simple stuff instead of the more complicated things.

I was bored before I even began

Hello and word to my hooligans. I haven't written. As usual, it's because I've been involved in the majesty of a new something or other. And as usual, I'm back to the drawing board (or the desktop, actually) because the thing demanding so much of my focus and time typically allotted for sleep is no longer commanding my attention. I promise I'm not as fickle as I sound. It's just that when I find a situation, relationship, mania, etc. is causing more harm than good, I know it's time to take a step back. I don't necessarily want to, but I'm taking a big step back. I can see clearly now (the rain is gone). It feels like a game of Chutes and Ladders. Fortunately I didn't have to take the world's worst slide back to starting position-- just a little one (basically the one I ALWAYS land on). But the road is familiar and I know my way back up the trail.
In the meantime, it is autumn and life is beautiful. The weather is perfection. Yesterday I drove around listening to The Smiths, and fell in love with Morrissey again. A year ago today, I was on my way to Europe to visit Sokphal, soak up some culture, and see the demise of a relationship when I got home. But what a difference a year can make-- I'm no longer fettered by formerly cutting words and long-held grudges. I'm happy. I'm at peace. I have a cute Halloween costume. I'm poor as can be, but scrimping and saving isn't such a bad thing. I'm excited to be an aunt. I'm happy to be surrounded by people I love. I'm the queen of insulation. I've made peace with the fact that I'm basically a real-life Neil Simon character. I'm thinking about law school. I'm enchanted by New Mexico. I am the same as always, except maybe a little better than I was yesterday, and still better than the day before.