Showing posts with label friday. Show all posts

Friday Night


A new candle, letter writing, baby at my feet quietly playing with her puzzles, the sonatas of Beethoven, a husband making promising sounds in the kitchen, and a body recovering itself from illness.

I love shadows. Light gets too much attention, if you ask me.

Please enjoy your evening,             


Sometimes Friday night...


is not very glamorous.  Sometimes it's wearing dirty jeans.  Sometimes it's eating chips because you have no idea what to cook for dinner and sometimes its drinking water because you have just enough red wine for one glass later tonight.  Sometimes it's no sound save the sweet lull of the faintest rain.  Sometimes it's perusing through your friend's flickr photos.

Sometimes it's a sore throat and sad eyes and perpetual waiting.

It's a moment.  And it's all mine.


Premonitions

HipstaPrint
I have a feeling it's going to be a sweet weekend.  Joelio is off for a boys weekend doing boy things...and before you run through your mental picture of man shenanigans, know that he and his friends are the cutest dorks.  They are going to the Olympic Peninsula to scour for plants and tromp through very wet forests.  Sounds like a blast.  He promised me no hookers, and that he'd stop at only one strip club.  Good man.

As for me?  I've got my plans.  They begin with this cupcake.

antsy

I realize this is going to sound contradictory to my previous post about letting oneself get bored as good self-care, but I have to tell you.  
This week I've been 
b.o.r.e.d.
(and not in a good way).

The kind of boredom that sits on the corner of your eyes and tells you that everything, everywhere is uninspired and no one, nowhere is doing anything special and all life, all kinds are moving only sluggishly along their mundane tasks.

There's a kind of aching in my bones, a something stirring 
born of fire and blood
and yet something else holding it all back.

I can't help but feel that is ME getting in the way of it.  If I could just step aside and let things take their course.  This is what happens to me when someone tells me NOT to obsess...to be carefree and run wild.
I can do anything BUT obsess, be worried, and tie stone weights to my feet.

It's quite confusing.
One minute I want to run naked through the streets, do something drastic to break this dam,
and in the next breath I loose my willpower to do anything but watch 10 hours of stupid television.

I was born for something more.

A summer's read

I've certainly had my fill of solitude this week.  Joel had to work every night this week, and while I was originally really looking forward to it and used that time wisely and soulfully, by Wednesday night - I was going mad.  I realize several of my lovely friends are without their husbands this week, or even month, or even summer.  My hat goes off to you!


When he was home, we were both exhausted emotionally (me from my brain and he from other people's brains)  that there was little else to do but fall into bed.

You know how most people (correction: I assume this is how most people operate) would stop in a moment of madness and exclaim to themselves,  "I need to call a friend!"  Or perhaps,  "I need to get the hell out of here and do something with someone!"  I am really challenged in this area because I get so greedy with solitude so much so that even if it is plaguing and branding my soul, I remain stubbornly determined to be alone.  I needed anything but being alone, but it wasn't until late Wednesday night that I recognized it and promptly invited myself over to Jess's.  My self is being all kinds of weird to myself lately.

I'm just gonna roll with it.

I tell you what. I am going to grill up a nice béarnaise-covered filet mignon, open a bottle of spicy Italian wine,  and spoil that man for working so hard.  That will help us both.

Separate feels strained.  Time to bring those ties back to home.

Bring love back to you this weekend,

le t.g.i.f


Perks from my first week back to work:

*Sunrise over the Cascades
*NPR (esp this story about a remake of an Victorian-era feast)
*Quiet mornings in my office with the best $0.75 oatmeal money can buy
*Husband taking on some of the cooking
*Very deep sleep
*Remembering just how damn good Friday feels

The Corporate Whore,
crm