If Wishes Were Horses

Some things I wish:

I wish that no animal would ever be mistreated.
I wish that no human, especially no child, would ever be made to feel small or worthless.
I wish that people had more joy in their lives; they wouldn't feel the need to be jealous or petty or untruthful.
I wish I had time to read all the books I want to read and write all of the things I want to write.
I wish I had more clarity and resolve.
I wish Hawaii was not a half a country and a huge ocean away.
I wish it wasn't an uphill battle to let everyone live and love the way they want, with healthcare they need and the family they choose, and the safety and stability to flourish.
Well, frankly, if I'm wishing for things, let's wish for some cash flow to shop -- and share -- with others.
I wish for polar bears to have enough ice and for tropical plants to have enough rain.
I wish for a kickass, long-lived career.
I wish for a Ph.D.
I wish for happiness and good health for my family and friends.
I wish for cancer and Alzheimer's and Parkinson's and ALS and alcoholism and depression and all those awful diseases to be eradicated from the Earth.
I wish that no matter how many times the horse bucks me off, I have the courage to get back on.

One thing I wished for, and got:
The love of my life.

One thing I wished for, and didn't get: Patience.

What are some of your wishes?

We Interrupt Your Regular Programming With This Breaking News

Mercury is no longer in retrograde.

So...catastrophes, miscommunications, electronic mishaps, and all chaos caused by this phenomenon must now be over.

I know you feel better about this.

Carry on.

Falling

Yesterday, I went in the mall with one of my BFFs, the friend I've had the absolute longest, who happens to be leaving the country in three weeks to teach English for six months. (I will then lack a best friend that lives in the state, my little tri-shaped cocoon broken up by geography.)

When we came back out of the mall a couple of hours later, the temperature had dropped a good 10 to 15 degrees. The wind was blowing, and the sky looked menacing. The thin hoodie and yoga pants I was wearing (yeah, I really care about my appearance lately) were not enough, and we ran for the car, giggling about how she wasn't going to miss the cold winter. I told her that no one else runs screaming to the car like we do when it's cold...so now I'm just going to look insane when I do it by myself.

Again, today was dark and cloudy and threatened rain. It was a long, swirling ball of stress and more-than-intermittent frustration, running here and there, my patience (never known for its long fuse) shorter than usual.

Suddenly, friend-adventures abound in my life; babies (my GOD the babies; what water all are these women drinking? I think I now roundabouts 20 people who are pregnant or gave birth this year), weddings (again, around 20 people), travel, blazing new pathways through our quasi-adulthood. Seasons are changing.

I'm so, so excited for all these people and their wonderful news. Seriously, I love getting the news that someone's engaged or pregnant or off to fulfill a life dream, and I get super crabby when people aren't supportive of everyone's good fortunes. I've noticed lately that there's a lack of genuine excitement for other people and I'm working hard to combat that jealous force all by myself, if I have to. And their good newses end up cheering my OWN moods, and I rely on them when I'm feeling like the world is tipping off its axis just a little bit.

But still. It forces me to evaluate my own life. I'm struggling to find my next adventures, my own life path, my own dreams, whatever they may be. But that doesn't change my happiness or excitement for everyone else--hell, if they pursue their dreams, it inspires me to do the same.

I have to say that tonight, as I walked through the door after an extralong day, those fall clouds parted a little upon seeing my darling husband chopping garlic for our dinner.

Limbo

So it's past the middle of September, and the sun is setting just after 7 p.m....I can feel it's getting darker earlier and earlier.

Yet the weather is still hovering around 80 degrees and the rain that was promised today didn't come.

It's weather limbo, people, and as glad as I am for the long stretch of beautiful, sunny days, I know we will be socked upside the head sooner or later with cooler weather. And my internal fashion clock says it's time to be wearing cords and long cardigans.

Please don't mistake this as a longing for fall weather. I am a summer baby through and through—I love the sunshine, swimming and fishing at the lake, skirts every day, and fresh flowers and homegrown veggies.

Fall, to me, always seems like a time to make decisions, make plans, get organized. Although I have nothing to really make decisions about right now, either, but some of the leaves are changing color--sumac are turning red (and have been up north for some time), and some trees are sporting some yellow highlights. I'm all confused!

The clocks are just all off!

Weekend update:

Yesterday, Wm and I went for a boat ride with his parents. It was a warm day, but with a crisp wind out over the lake. We cruised around and ate roast beef wraps and string cheese. A bass fishing tournament was underway, and people were waterskiing and wakeboarding, creating fun waves for us to bounce over. I believe I got my last (mild) sunburn of the summer.

Saturday I went to the Twins game, and they beat the Tigers in an exciting late-season matchup. It'll be the last game I see in the 'Dome, so I did let myself have a drink of 'Dome Coke (I don't know why, it just is the best Coke in the world) and we had Dome Dogs. Outdoor baseball is great when the weather is great, but I have my reservations about the new park opening up in Minneapolis. I'd love to go see a Gopher football game at the new stadium on campus though!

Friday I went to visit a dear friend who is hanging out at the hospital due to an early labor. Let's everyone send some collective "hang in there, babies!" (yes, "babies," plural) to help them stay put!

I have also been noticing a lot of spelling errors lately. I wish I'd had a camera for them so I could post them here. The other day I was driving down the freeway next to a Head Start bus. On the side was painted "For Offical Use Only." Really? I can only hope the person who painted that on isn't the same person that's teaching the alphabet. This made me irrationally angry; this is why the world needs copy editors!

Um, and that's about it for now. There's no good exit out of this train wreck.

Everyday Life

Time is moving faster. I can't imagine even 10 years from now how fast time will go. What is WITH THAT? It kind of creeps me out.

I am not what I'd consider a popular person (I use this term oh-so-loosely, since we're not in high school anymore). Yet, somehow every weekend there are far too many things to do and people to see and it's hard to keep up. The summer passed me by completely.

I guess I don't write much about the everyday stuff simply because most of it is rushing around, trying to get places on time, enjoy the fun parts, ignore the bad parts, try not to mess up, and get in bed by 11:30 every night.

Here's what today looked like:

7:00: Alarm goes off. Tap Wm to get up.
7:30: Wm attempts to wake me up. This usually takes a couple attempts. I am never pleasant in the morning. Ever. Even if I try.
7:45: In the shower. Coming to, ever so slightly.
8:00: Making coffee. Blessed, blessed coffee. The smell is perking up my attitude.
8:15: Oh shit, it's 8:15. I need to hurry up. *This is a thought I have EVERY.SINGLE.DAY.
8:30: OK, you have T-minus 20 seconds to get out the door. Do you have keys? Phone? Coffee? everything else goes on hold. *Also an everyday occurrence.
8:30-9:10 listen to either the public radio's music station or my iPod on the commute to work. Lament that I'm not still in college when I drive through my alma mater's campus.
9:10: At work, starting up computer.
12: Eat lunch at my desk. (Today: Tuna salad on crackers with red pepper and avocado, a Zestar apple, a Ghiradelli dark chocolate brownie.) Drink the worst flavor of ANYTHING ever invented: The Tranquilo VitaminWater. It tastes EXACTLY like the stuff dentists rub on your gums before they give you a Novocain shot. Refuse to drink the rest.
7:30: Leave work. This is not common, but not unheard of, either. I usually leave around 5:15. It's a busy week. (The sun is already going down when I leave work. Sigh. Fall is upon us.)
8:00: Pick Mo up at Mom & Dad's.
8:30: Catch up on blogs, post my own. Catch up on phone calls or random things I need to do.
9:00: Watch Top Chef. (Or Project Runway, or the Office and 30 Rock...whatever night it happens to be.)

I usually read before I go to bed.

And now, you are glad I don't write about everyday life, right? ;) That said, I'll try to incorporate more of what's going on daily.

Bringing It

I want to write so well on every aspect of everything I think of to bring to this here blog that everyone who stops by usually comments. As much as I like writing for me, for a record of my own life, for my own therapy, I also love the community that was built here.

I took some time off, I slacked, I deserve losing some audience.

But I know some of you are still out there.

Some of it is keeping my head in the blogging game, and seriously bringing it here. But I need your help—and no, this isn't a casting for compliments or post ideas:

What is it that makes you come back here? What types of posts resonate with you? Are you still there? What types of things do you wish I wrote more about? Less about? What could I do better? What moves you to comment or create discussion (on any blog, not necessarily mine.)?

Don't leave me with crickets!

Lungfuls of Air

Every Tuesday night, I get comfortable on my mat, and I breathe. It starts out with with those fits that I must think pass for breathing during the day. I realize, in those few moments, how few deep breaths I take, how rarely I attempt to flood my body with feel-good oxygen, how I don't breathe through stressful moments or to clear my aches, both psychological and physical.

In fact, I usually deprive my body by holding my breath—I take so little stock of this body of mine (except to berate how it's not fitting into my clothes) these days. I don't let my lungs do their job.

Two weeks ago, my parents were holding their breath. Two weeks ago, doctors spied a rogue spot on my dad's lung, through the magick of the x-ray machine. I didn't know. I could feel something was off, but now I know what it was.

It was the feeling of holding your breath. Wanting to break to the swirling water's surface before you drown, and suck in clean air to the soles of your feet. Waiting, swept up in the current. Waiting to surface. To wait. Wait. Wait.

A week is interminable when you think there's a spot.

My dad was called back for a CT scan to get a better look.

When I hear talk of CT scans, of spots, of counts, of surgeries, I hold my breath. My heart starts to pound, and instantly I feel hollowed out, my stomach somewhere south of here. A split second later, I tell myself—and the universe, in case someone is listening, that, whoops, sorry, I refuse to think those thoughts. Better to send out positive cell generation thoughts in the air than to think the worst. It's like my own knocking on wood. I have no idea if it's working, but so far it's working. Know what I mean? Like the Superman balloon from the Kilipino that still resides in my parents' front-hall closet, a moment of levity in a dark time, the meaning of it loud and clear. I'll take the small talismans, the hopes let go into the universe like balloons.

One year ago, I wrote this.

Today, I am writing this:

Whatever rogue spot dared show its face on the x-ray did not appear on the CT scan.

Why didn't you tell me earlier?
We wanted to make sure there was nothing.
You sure now?
Yes.
Positive?
Yes.
No spots. No nothing?
Yes.
Good news?
Yes.

I am holding my breath again.

Exhale.

Exhale.

Yes. Yes may be the most beautiful word in the universe, how have I never appreciated it? I force myself to breathe. It's shuddering and staggered, my hand to my mouth, my eyes filling.

My eyes are spilling over I am gulping and laughing and crying my chest hurts thinking relief is not even the word for this and we are all a little incredulous but certain, because of COURSE he's kicking cancer's ass for the third year running and cautiously happy but also riotously happy and crying even though the bad part is gone that specter is it ever gone? but yes it's gone because it's not an option anymore, and it's all running together it's good news, remember, and we have another year under our belts, all of us, we can breathe a little easier we are all breathing, breathing, breathing, and my mind is racing and I'm giddy and sad that we have to even do this but I am grateful and my god, it's been nearly four years, and when I hug him I think of the scar underneath and all I can say through choked breath is—

"Hey Daddy: A+."