Suggestions for early parenting

I found out that one of my first close friends, a girl I knew back in Junior high, is going to be a mother soon, along with her lesbian partner.  Here is the letter I wrote to her about my early parenting experiences:

---

Angie, congratulations!  

I know we have not kept up for - decades now!, oh my - but you were absolutely one of my favorite people when we were young.  Gifted and talented and full of life, you inspired me.  You were also one of my first crushes, which prompted any other number of self-discoveries down the line.  All that said, I love the idea that you and your partner are going to be nurturing and raising a child; you have so much to offer, and I think it will be a very lucky child, indeed.

Anyways, my recommendations:

Starting when my daughter, Ravenna, was just a week or two old, I attended a drop-in post-partum support group (http://www.birthandbeyond.com/firstweeks.html) in Seattle that met weekly.  Spending that time with other parents along with their similarly aged babies really helped me to gain confidence, to be less anxious, to get feedback and ideas for dealing with issues that were highly relevant at that point in her development, to develop an understanding of what was normal in terms of milestones, to be able to anticipate what changes were just around the corner, and to find solidarity in knowing that other parents were experiencing all the same issues that we were.  In case you wonder at all whether a group like this will be relevant when neither of you will have birthed the child, there was a set of lesbian parents with an adopted infant who attended First Weeks at the same time that I did, and they seemed to enjoy and benefit greatly from it also.  You wouldn't have the same group available to you, of course, but I am sure there are at some similar resources where you live. 

I loved carrying Ravenna around in a sling when she was small (as opposed to strollers - I never actually owned one).  It felt close and connected in a lovely way.  Slings are also super easy to pack up and have anywhere with you, at any time, on a moment's notice - something you can't say about a stroller!  The native sling was my favorite for easy packing and quick/cozy use (http://www.newnativebaby.com/) and the moby was my favorite when I wanted something more versatile that could lend itself to any number of positions, both back and front (http://www.mobywrap.com/).

I also did elimination communication (EC - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elimination_communication) with Ravenna, which is a process of learning to recognize unspoken cues, experimenting to find certain timing rhythms that work for your child, and giving your child early tools to explicitly communicate in a way that you can understand when they need to eliminate waste, so that they can do so in some other place - held over a toilet, held over a sink, held over a baby potty, held over a diaper they aren't wearing, etc.  I also used cloth diapers without a cover, or with a thin cover, that helped more than anything to train my observation of her unspoken cues (and gave me a quick, direct form of feedback when I had missed a cue, in the form of a little bit of wet).  

Thanks to EC, by the time Ravenna was 4 months old she was able to sometimes communicate via a specific sound (psssss) that she had to pee, so that I could get her someplace where she could do it outside of her diaper.  She once managed to hold it for 10 minutes, the remainder of a bus ride home, at that age.  When she was 10-12 months old she regularly communicated her need to potty via sign language and was largely out of diapers with few accidents.  I don't know what your inclinations are and EC certainly isn't for everyone, but in case you didn't already know about it and it might appeal to your sensibilities, now you know about the idea!  I personally loved it and plan to approach pottying the same way with any other children I might have.

The most important thing I learned about early parenting is this: there is a wide range of possibility for any number of parenting choices; slings vs strollers, co-sleeping vs sleep-conditioning vs other sleep methods, EC vs western pottying with cloth diapers vs western pottying with disposables, buying processed and specially marketed baby food vs using a handmixer to feed your child the same food that you eat, etc.

Because you put care and consideration into every choice that you make, it is easy to fall into a trap of thinking that your way is the best way.  One issue with this sort of thinking is that you can get stuck holding yourself to a choice that you find isn't working for you and is a source of daily frustration, maybe because you are invested in it, or you've been telling yourself that anything else is sub-par, or you feel like you would be failing as a parent if you went back to re-evaluate other options.  Another issue is that it is judge the choices of everyone else who went another way.  But I know people who made parenting choices all across these spectrums - and each our children has grown and thrived in spite of the different beginnings.  I think ultimately it matters less WHICH choices you make, and more that you are loving, that you are attentive, and that you are engaging yourself in a process where you pay attention to what is working for you what is not, and you adapt accordingly.  Be accepting and loving of yourself, your partner, your child, and your peers.  (Don't beat yourself up about whatever struggles you encounter!)  Allow yourself to make mistakes, and try to look child rearing as an evolving journey of discovery rather than a set, constrained path going the "right way".  Remember that children, even infants, are incredibly, amazingly resilient.

If you'd ever like to chat about these or anything else, just let me know.  I'd be tickled to hear from you.

Best wishes,

Kathy

Tiden flyger snabbt

Ju äldre jag blir, desto snabbare verkar tiden flyga.

Som ett barn minns jag långa dagar där jag ofta ropade till mina föräldrar: “Jag är uttråkad!”  Varje dag avgav ändlösa timmar för att leka, lära mig, och undersöka.  Tiden var något att fylla.  Mitt hela liv sträckte sig ut framför mig.

Vid något tillfälle började det ändras.  Jag vet inte exakt när men jag började ibland känna att det var för mycket saker att göra och det var inte alltid nog tid for att göra dem alla.

Nu är jag 34 år gammal och det är distinkt aldrig nog med tid.  Timmar är en dyrbar handelsvara.  Oavsett hur effektivt jag jobbar kan jag aldrig kan avsluta allt som jag menar.  Jag vet inte den meningen av “uttråkad” längre.

Vad än mer passerar timmarna och dagarna jättesnabbt nu.  Inga fler är långsamma timmarna som breder ut sig framför mig, som väntar på att bli fyllda.  Det känns som för några månader sedan som födde jag ett barn, men hon blev 6 åring för två veckor sedan.  Det känns som igår som jag lämnade Seattle för att flytta till Sverige, men det har faktiskt varit nästan två år nu.

Tids bortgång nu påminner mig lite av sitta i baksätet av bilen som ett barn, försöker fokusera på världen som virvlar förbi utanför bilen.   Jag skulle ställa min uppmärksamhet på en plats och det skulle komma i fokus - ett träd, en uppochnervänd skottkärra, och ett fält breder sig ut bakom - men jag kunde ändå hålla mitt fokus om platsen för en kort stund innan det gled undan.  Och hela tiden rusade alltihopa kring platsen förbi i ett sådant suddigt dis så att jag inte kunde plocka ut några detaljer förutom svischar av färg.  Allt var konsumerat så småningom av det strömmande ofokuserade ruset av färger.

Som är hur livet känns just nu.  Jag kan fokusera på spridda fläckar här och där för att föra dem ut i mer klarhet - skolarbete som måste göras, det arbete som vårt hus är i behov av, eller min dotters anpassning till sin nya skola - men allt annat är en rusning och en virvel och ens dessa fokuserade fläckar är snart konsumerade av virvlande också.

Vad är tid för dig?  Är det långsamt och fullt av möjligheter eller fräser det förbi så snabbt att du knappt kan hänga med?  Har ditt intryck av tid förändrats under ditt livs lopp på samma sätt som mitt intryck har förändrats?  Tiden var en gång långsam men nu håller det på att glida genom mina fingrar, aldrig sakta, snabbare och snabbare varje dag.

Relief

My mother found out recently that she has cancer. So scary. This week she had a hysterectomy, and had her ovaries and pelvic lymph nodes taken out as well. My father was excellent at keeping us all up to date via SMS, but the day she had the surgery felt endless, still.

Post surgery, it looks like the cancer may have been contained entirely within the uterus, so after some time to recover from the surgery she may be fine with no further action needed! I am feeling very thankful.

Haircut

Happy us!

Tired

Ravenna is in her dance class right now. I am tired. I like her having the opportunity to dance, to become more aware of her body, and to socialize, but it really makes Saturday mornings a whole lot less restful.

new fangled contraptions

Here we go, first post ever from my new smartphone. (Such a lovely  early birthday present!)

I've been thinking about things I'd like to post quite often, usually when I am out and about with no easy access to computers; maybe this will help me to actually get things like that posted.

Feet

Eight feet belonging to six different people were discovered along the coast of British Columbia between August 2007 and August 2011.

That seems a bit strange and macabre. I would never expect to find a human foot while strolling the coast.

Time, again

There's never enough time in the day.

I wish I had 2 or 3 minions that I could just set to do my bidding all day, every day, when I head off to school.

Maybe...

• a Laundry-Cooking-Shopping Minion
• an Unpacking-Boxes Minion
• a TakingDownWallpaper-PatchingWalls-Painting Minion.

Yes, I think I could be content with that.

Time

Time is slipping through my fingers. Yesterday, I was standing right there...and now suddenly 3 years are past.

It reminds me a bit of sitting in the back seat of the car as a child, trying to focus on the world swirling by outside. I'd set my attention to one spot and it would come into focus - a tree, an overturned wheelbarrow, and a field spreading out behind - but I could only hold it for a short moment before it slipped away. All the while everything surrounding that spot rushed by in such a blurred haze that I could not pick out any details except for swishes of color.

And, yet, if I did not apply that focused attention to singular spots along the way, they also becomes nothing more than a swish of colors rushing by.

That streaming, unfocused rush of colors ultimately consumed everything.

That is how life feels right now. I can focus on scattered spots here and there to bring them out in more clarity, but everything else is a rush and a swirl, and even these focused spots ultimately get caught up in the whirl as well.

Food

I miss english muffins and bagels. Hard bread just isn't the same.

Sweden

The first several months were really hard.

Things are starting to pick up now.

I'm actually starting to feel at home.

Still some hurdles to overcome and a lot of adjusting to do, but the sun is coming out and it's spring in more ways than one. Here comes the sun, little darlin', here comes the sun... and I say, it's all right.

I am meaning to come out of my antisocial hibernation and start catching up on correspondence one of these days soon, and perhaps start taking and posting pictures. Will link that here if I don't put it here in the first place.

Gaslighting

I never knew there was a word for it.

Small Happiness

I'm glad, though, that blogger is letting me post properly. When I posted the r.i.p. post I actually had to send it from my email to blogger, because I could not get the blogger posting page to load on any window on any browser. The frustration I felt, wanting so badly to express something, and the tools themselves blocking my way.

Spring Cleaning...Wish It Were Spring, Anyway

I went cleaning out spam comments, just now, and...a great deal of the non-spam comments that exist on this blog were from bem.

So many thoughtful responses to the random, infrequent posts these last few years.

I miss bem.

R.I.P. bem

R.I.P. bem

A friend of mine passed away today.

Brian was one of my first close friends off the internet.  I played a MUD back from....1995 to 2001, maybe, and he was the implementer.  

If he was here, still, he would have been one of the first people to read this post; even after all these years and my long periods of blogging inactivity, he still kept an eye on here.

He lived in Portland, OR, which is close to Seattle, so when I moved there in 2000 I would see him every so often. 

I helped him through some rough times in his life, and he was strong and supportive for me through some of mine.

His MUD (rom.org 9000) went down in the early 2000's, but someone from the MUD convinced him to put it back up a year ago.  I logged on tonight for the second time in maybe 8 years.  Talking to people who I was fond of, in the way that I am fond of Rampage people now, when I was 16, 17, 18....

It felt surreal.

There was someone logged in tonight who had a ring item that had been "engraved".... by me.  And his description had all sorts of nods to me.  I could hardly remember who he was, but I had the distinct sense that it was someone I had liked quite well at some point in my life.

It's a bit unsettling to realize there's so much I can't remember.

And that time keeps on flowing by.

And I might be gone, at any moment.

Or if I'm still here, soon enough the moments I am living now will be moments that are lost to my memory.

A few years ago Brian met the love of his life, and about three years ago, asked her to marry him.  I think the last time I saw him was at his wedding.  He was so happy.  This woman and this relationship really seemed to transform him.  Every time I talked to him since, he seemed so happy.

It feels like - it was too soon.

He isn't that much older than me, he was a peer.

He'd recently found such great happiness in his life.

I loved him, he was very dear to me -

I meant to visit him before I moved to Sweden, but that's one of the things that never happened, I was so busy.  Now it's too late.

I wasn't ready to lose him.

It's awful to see him go so soon after he had found great happiness in his life.

It makes me feel more mortal myself.  I feel very blessed these last few years, but I could pass away and lose it all at any time.

Or lose the people closest to me.

It's scary.

And, my friend, Brian - it's sad.

I wrote him a mail today, after I found out.  I know he'll never read it, but -  I needed to say goodbye, somehow.

Brian, I will miss you.

I do miss you.

I am sad.

Göteborg to Leeds

Pigeons! In the train station!

So many people here with so many differently colored coats. In Sweden, it seems like almost everyones' coat is black.

The UK is unfamiliar to me, but it somehow feels so much more familiar than Sweden. In some ways, it almost feels more familiar than Seattle, as I sit gazing at the scenery out the trains. I don't know why that is. I don't think it is just the language - when I first noticed it, I was on a train full of Czechs, I think. The architecture, the fields, the occasional horse, the hedged lines between fields, the faint hint of frost seeping out from all the shadows and corners; perhaps it is in some ways like the midwest of my childhood, but in others not. Yet the feeling of familiarity is strong.

I found it funny to see Indian-looking people speaking with Scottish accents. Unexpected! My eyes and my ears could not reconcile.

I love subways. The feel in the core of my body standing on a crowded subway as it accellerates, runs speedily, and then decelerates, working to maintain balance. I feel taller, more at ease in my body, and more grounded when I step off. The faintly dirty, sour smell in the underground stations; I haven't smelled it since I was last in New York City,

Every train station that I have been to (3 so far) has been quite chilly. No overheating for these Brits! I like it.

I like London. I stepped out onto a London street at the King's Cross Station, and felt such joy! The buildings, the people, the double decker buses...I loved it the first time I saw it, at 13, and I still feel that way now that I see it again. I forget when I am away, but the moment I am here again and I step out into it, I want more. I want to visit London more. I want to explore her, to know her, to discover her crooks and crannies.

But, oh my - I had to pay to use the restroom. How very strange that was. Theoretically, I know that this is the way it works in other places, but I have never before paid to use the restroom, myself.

I am eating my first mincemeat pie. I'm not quite sure what consitutes mincemeat. I'm also not quite sure that I like it.

There is, of course, much that I should write about having to do with Sweden. But I think I am so deeply involved in processing it right now that I cannot step back to write about it. I feel more clear here on this short trip to the UK, a lovely little interlude.

I am, however, missing Henrik and Ravenna.

All That We Leave Behind

Steve said to me at breakfast the other day that my leaving is one of the most significant events in his life.

I'm really going to miss him, too.

:-/

Happiness is a Nice Pair of Shoes

Someone said to me at the Beginner's Milonga last night, "I've always been too shy to talk to you, but I wanted to tell you I will miss your music. And your shoes. You have some of the best shoes."

Aww....

Goodbye, Seattle Tango.

I cried tonight.

I didn't expect to. I was surprised when I did.

Tonight was a going away dance for me, hosted courtesy of Kathryn McDonald, at her practica at Dance Underground.

Quite a few people came. So many people that I was happy to see!

Greg Constantino DJed, and I loved it. The evening flowed nicely, and it was so lovely to be able to just dance, and not worry at all about what was going on or needed to be done.

I've never had a birthday dance or anything of the kind before, but tonight they insisted on a going away birthday-dance-style song for me. Greg played Jem's "Missing You", and then, to cries of "Opa! Opa!", he followed it with Israel Kamakawiwoʻole's "Somewhere Over The Rainbow".

I was touched, really, by both choices.

And I was touched by all the people who danced with me during the two songs. I felt...loved. And I felt so much love for all of them. And for this community that I've been a part of for so long now.

I was so touched, in fact, that I made a short speech after the second. I did not plan to talk. I don't even know any more what I said - just that it was from my heart.

I am sad.

Seattle has been long and hard and beautiful and wonderful and horrible and terrible and lovely. So many things. I've been here for 1/3 of this life, now, that I have been living...and here...now...I am walking away. From everyone. From tango. From friends. From people who feel now like family. From everything.

What am I doing?

After the dancing was done, the music was done, Kathryn came over and hugged me and said goodbye, and I could not help crying.

Ah...without endings, there could be no beginning.

I wish I could have the beginning without this end.

Thank you, Seattle.

Thank you everyone who came tonight.

Thank you to a community that I have sometimes struggled with, but which has also given me much love, and in which I have felt myself at home.

I will miss you.

Me.

Sadly, there still is no internet in my current residence. Except in one specific spot in one specific room sitting just so on the windowsill.

Google Search

The following two columns amused me terribly when they first came out, and I still get a kick out of them now. Here they are, for posterity (and so I don't have to search all of the internet again next time I want to reference and find them for a friend).

Awkward Suggestions: Let's have fun with the Google search box, by Michael Agger on slate.com.

The winner of the Google Suggest contest: Is It Wrong To Sleep With Your Sister?", by Michael Agger on slate.com.

The Jungle

I'd like to see an Upton Sinclair for the 21st century bring GE salmon and the current workings of the FDA and any number of other issues to light and to the public eye the way he did meat packing and immigrant conditions in The Jungle.

Gene Patenting

I think Gene Patenting is ridiculous.

Core Values

Today, speaking to a friend of mine about how important I feel it is to allow Ravenna to dictate her own relationship with Jaimes, based on her own experiences, wants, and needs, uncolored by my own issues with him, I realized I was speaking quite passionately. This gift to her is greatly important to me and speaks to one of my core values. That got me thinking; what are my other core values? What drives my choices? As an exercise, I'm going to post a few now, and then post others as they come to me over the next few days.


* Give my children the gift of a clean slate. Maintain an understanding of what my own issues are, and with whom I have issues...and keep those as my own issues. Do not pass them on. Let my children develop their own relationships with people and the world, unfettered by my biases, prejudices, and injuries.

* Maintain dignity in my interactions with the world and with others. Treat others with dignity.

* Reach out to the people around me with love. Be a healing, nurturing force in their lives where and when I am able.

* Don't become too attached to wealth or material belongings. Save and be thrifty where it makes sense, but never lose a sense of generosity or a wanting to share what I have with those I love.

* Be open to goodness. Find joy in small things. Allow myself to be surprised and to notice and engage the world in new ways.

* Take sadness, angst, grief, anger, jealousy, fear, any number of other "negative" emotions, let myself feel them, savor them, truly experience them, and realize that they enhance the overarching experience of a life. Only through contrast can we most truly appreciate what we are and what we have.

* Respect my body. Foster an awareness of my body, of what effects my actions and non-actions have on my body. Breathe. Don't be afraid to take risks and to act at times in ways that stress or challenge my body, but be aware of the causal relationships and mindful of what it is that I am doing. Care for it when I push it to or beyond comfortable limits.

* Respect my spirit. Foster an awareness of what effects my actions and non-actions have on my spirituality and on my emotional well-being. Don't be afraid to take risks and to act at times in ways that cause emotional or spiritual conflict, but be aware of the causal relationships and mindful of what it is that I am doing. Care for it when I push it to or beyond comfortable limits.

* Act in awareness. Be mindful of what effect my actions have. Try to keep from acting in cruelty borne of carelessness; if I am to act or speak cruelly or unkindly, let myself be mindful that I am doing so, and take full responsibility for what I am saying, what I am doing, and any consequences it may have.

* Advocate for myself, for my own needs to be be met, but with mindfulness and awareness. Stand up for myself and be sure to find space and resource to adequately care for myself.

Drowning in Adrenaline

I was just standing in a parking lot just a short while ago that got shot up. My friend had the presence of mind to notice how things were escallating and to duck down under my car, but I just sort of stood there out in the open like a dumbass because I've never been around a situation like that before. I ducked down with her, but only after the shooting was done.

Next time i hope to ducke down at least midway through.

She is more worldly than I and thought maybe "it was 38's, but certainly not 42's".

I'm fine. Just kind of stunned. And drowning in adrenaline.

I am rarely out in an ihop parking lot at 3am. Almost never, i would say. I don't believe I will be in a hurry to be again any time soon.

I do live in a major metroplis, but i've never been around gunfire before in my life. It didn't even seem real. Seemed like firecrackers. Everything sort of moving in slow motion.

Oh my.

Breathe, Kathryn, breathe... deep breath, breathe now.

2 + 2 = A Great Evening, For All That

Two people treated me coldly at a dance last night.

One, who I used to think was a close friend of mine, and who I approached at the end of the evening warmly and with no ill will, spoke disapprovingly to me of choices that he knows nothing about, and then dismissed me without further thought.

The other, whom I hardly know at all, turned his back on me at the end of a song and walked away without a word or a goodbye, as if to say, "I did not enjoy our connection as we danced, therefore there is nothing of value to you and you are not worth even a cursory goodbye."

I don't understand why people treat others in such a manner. Dance aside, tango aside.... there are so many ways to connect, and value in so many aspects of of the people around us. So much to appreciate. So much life beyond the small world of tango! Why brush that aside so brusquely? I am sure that I take the people around me for granted sometimes, but I want to try as best I can to keep perspective, an open heart and an open mind.

On the other side of the same coin, I had two absolutely lovely interactions tonight, as well.

Two relatively new friends of mine came out to the dance solely because they knew that I would be there. I greatly enjoyed talking with them, getting to know them better, and briefly dancing with one of them.

Another friend of mine soliloquized very sweetly to me, about me, at the close of the night. Her flattering but sincerely spoken words and were a balm to my spirit. I felt near to tears as she spoke.

I must be at a good point in my life. At other times in the past the cold interactions would really have gotten under my skin, but last night they rolled fairly easily off me. But just now I feel so good about the world, about this gift of life, about the amazing people that surround me, that a few people who are unfortunate enough not to notice or be privy to all this goodness are not able to blind me to it or to pull me down. It's interesting how much one's current inner space and state informs the way and degree to which feedback from the outside world is taken and internalized. And in what way that feedback is colored, and which feedback is given most notice.

Happy!

Sublimely happy.

Doldrums

I'm depressed.

It's not a "just in this moment" thing, it's a generally thing. This last week, I find myself taking offense to things that people around me do or say, things that usually would not bother me. I'm having more trouble amassing the energy to do just basic things. And I feel....unhappy. For no reason that I can put my finger on.

I also feel isolated. I don't know how to talk to people about it; when I do they quickly respond with, "Is it something I said?"

No. It's not something you said.

It's nothing to do with you at all.

Maybe it's everything with Jaimes and the lawyer and all the money we've spent and STILL not being able to even file our initial paperwork for our residence application and feeling quite helpless as to determining my own destiny or timeline in this process, all of that weighing down on me. We had a large setback with Jaimes last week; a month ago I thought, for sure, here we are through the door and we will be filing within days, but turns out we needed just a bit more. But he's now again unwilling, and now we're back to being stopped up by him, not able to file anything at all. When we do file, it will supposedly take Swedish migration another 6-9 months to give us their decision, and we don't know when we can even start that process. This all certainly doesn't help, I guess, even if I can't pin it as the cause.

Maybe it's the weather. Except the weather has been amazing. The last few days felt like a bite of summer.

Maybe it's simple brain chemistry.

A lot of the time I feel okay, perhaps even most of the time. But more often than I would like, this last week or two, when I find myself with some time to stop and reflect, I feel...sinking. When I'm busy enough, I don't feel it. But in those respite periods, it feels like gravity is pulling on me harder than usual, everything is heavier.

Wish me well.

I hope this passes soon. I hope, also, that this most recent push with the lawyers turns out not to be too expensive, and is the last push we need to finalize and file the parenting plan we actually agreed to four long months ago.

United Breaks Guitars

I'm not flying United, I'm flying KLM. Still, would it be unwise to bring my guitar?

It looks like they will probably let me bring it as hand baggage, "provided it fits in the overhead bin". But if they don't... aiee! It is a very nice guitar, and I don't want to trust it to the hold.

Anecdotal stories across the net seem to indicate that most of the time they will allow a guitar as hand baggage, but every once in a while they will force it to be checked. Please, please, KLM, do not force me to check it.

Happy, Happy, Joy Joy Joy.

Three people have come up tonight raving about my music. The last one said, "You always play the best music! You should DJ more!"

It feels...good, to be appreciated. I've been enjoying playing music more again recently, and happy to know that some people are appreciating my efforts. Feelings flying high!

Car Insurance Turnover

Goodbye, Geico, hello Amica!

Amica's offered rate cuts more than 20% off my premiums that existed before I reported the move to Geico. I'll now be paying 63% of what Geico would have insisted on charging me going forward, for the same coverage. Hooray for shopping around!

Car Insurance Racket

I'm moving this weekend. I'll still be living in Seattle, 6 miles from my current apartment.

For this, Geico is bumping my car insurance premiums by 20%. @#$@#%!!!!

My driving patterns have not changed. My driving record has not changed. I don't even have comprehensive coverage on my main car, just liability. I hardly drive at all; maybe once or twice a week, most weeks, probably somewhere in the ballpark of 1000-2000 miles a year total. This won't change at the new address; if anything, I'll probably drive less. And yet they're going to charge me an extra $40/month! What a racket.

I guess it's time to start shopping insurance. Or to hurry up and sell the Miata. And maybe the Taurus also.

So lame...

The Old Kat

We're moving this month, to a smaller place. In the process of trimming down for the move, I've been sorting through boxes of papers ranging the last 15 years.

Just now I found a small sheet of crib notes I must have made for a job interview some time back:

• growth potential?
• fast moving or stagnant?
• how many recent new hires?
• can people move on if they don't like it, or are they locked in for some time?
• mobile? immobile?
• consistent? (~ no growth)
• how marketable will I be, coming out of your area?
• how are you on training? will you help me? mentors? how do you help new people get on board?
• how is your dept for teamwork? do people work together? or alone on separate components (as a "team")?

It was so...thorough. I don't feel like I'm really thorough in that way about anything I do in my life now. What happened to that Kat? When did I become so complacent? When did I stop asking questions?

Argh!!!

Our goldfish is dead.
Why is our goldfish dead???
I really liked that fish.
I fed him.
I talked to him.
I enjoyed him.
We hadn't even had him two weeks!
Why why why why why?
:-(

That Crazy Google Search Box...

Found this set of articles in Slate recently to be quite entertaining:
Awkward Suggestions
Is It Wrong To Sleep With Your Sister?

Object of Procrastination

I finished reading Lonely Werewolf Girl this morning. It was pulpy, but I liked it. I wasn't ready for it to be done. I wish we didn't have to wait til August of next year for the sequel to come out.

This I Believe

Someone mentioned absurd beliefs tonight, which got me thinking about my own. So here they are:

My most absurd belief was, when I was a child, that the world is actually very, very small, maybe on the order of nothing being more than a 20 or 30 minute drive from anything else. But that all adults conspired to make children believe that it was much, much bigger than that, in the same way that they conspired to make children believe that there is a Santa Claus or a Tooth Fairy. Who knows why adults do anything they do? But certainly, if they take you on a "6 hour trip" to grandma's house, they are just driving in circles for all that time, to maintain the fiction. Which is why everything starts to look the same after a while, corn fields, brick store facades, houses after houses after houses, more corn fields, etc.

I'm not sure when I grew out of that belief, but I believed it for a while. And proselytized it to other kids.

My most absurd belief now?

These days... I don't know. My parents would probably point toward some of my "hippy inclinations":

I believe that western medicine is largely flawed, in that it largely works to treat symptoms without understanding underlying causes. And these days, with people in and out, without a long term relationship with a single physician, it often loses sight entirely of the whole person, or the complete medical history, which makes it even more into that treating symptoms without thought or understanding of underlying issues.

I believe that we over-medicate ourselves, and that we medicate for symptoms that we
mightn't have to if we were to understand and address some underlying causes.

I believe that American culture, right now, generally raises its children in exclusion to all other children, and very highly prizes material things and de-emphasizes community and interpersonal skills, and I don't believe that's a healthy way to raise a child. I believe that things like all our strollers facing out, away from the parent (versus European buggy-style strollers where the child lies down facing the parent) and our diapering and potty training systems are symptoms of this problem, and serve to exacerbate the problem.

I believe that if you have some amount of faith, you will find what you need. The universe, or god, perhaps, will provide. I've never worried that much about jobs, even when I haven't fond one for long periods of time, because one always seems to find me when I'm starting to need it. Whether I explicitly seek it out or not. All of my techie jobs found me; I never sought any of them out. My tango work has generally found me. My nannying work found me. I'm not living the high life, but I always have enough, I'm able to live my life on my terms (currently, I've been able to work entirely in a way that has allowed me to have my daughter at home with me for all of the first three years of her life), and when my resources start to seriously dwindle, something invariably comes along that allows me to address that and to start creating more resources.

"Absurd" is, of course, somewhat subjective.

What are your most absurd beliefs?

Where I've Been

I got out of the habit of blogging, I think, when I got really involved with Jaimes.

Partly he didn't like me spending time on computers, especially after I got pregnant.

Partly, one never knew what could come back to be an issue of contention later. Any time I committed myself to a belief or to some version of events or to some interpretation of the world around me, it was subject to later criticism.

Partly, whenever I did blog, so much of what I had to say was negative. I got tired of all my own whining. I don't want this journal to be merely an outlet for venting and self-pity; I want it to be an exploration of whatever comes to mind, good or bad, meaningful or trite. When that starts skewing to entirely complaints, it's not a good balance.

Partly, I think, after a time, there started to be a dynamic in my life where almost all my friends disapproved of my relationship with Jaimes, and were worried about me, and I was still in denial about it. It was almost like I was living a lie, that I was creating, that everything was fine. That the relationship was good. And I couldn't sit down and really reflect, and still be able to maintain that.

So I stopped reflecting, in some sense.

That was maybe the biggest factor.

Now I'm strongly out of the habit. And habits are hard to break or create.

Filling The Gap

I've made friends with a guy who lives in the basement apartment below me. He comes up late at night sometimes to hang out and chat, or to play a game of cribbage or such.

It's nice having an adult someone to interact with at those odd hours, when Ravenna is sleeping and I actually have time to myself to do things for me, but which are often kind of lonely. Stuck at home, can't go out and leave the sleeping child alone.

It has been especially nice since I have been spending many of my days, all day long, with toddlers and babies, and sometimes end up spending days on end without any adult interaction at all. You'd think you wouldn't get lonely, hanging out with children all day long. Small children are, after all, people! They are fun! There is a lot of satisfaction and enjoyment to be had in interactions with them! But... they are not peers. You can't really have a conversation with them. And somehow, some days, being entirely and only in their company is much, much lonelier than it would be just to be completely alone.

Princess Mom

Ravenna was chatting with Nuvo on the phone earlier. Following is a short excert from their conversation:

RAVENNA: I'm a princess!
NUVO: A princess, huh. Do you tell people what to do? Princesses do that a lot of the time. They tell people what to do.

<short pause>

RAVENNA: My mom's a princess.

Dance, dance, dance

We hit Folk Life on Sunday. It was super-crowded, but the energy was really good. Ravenna especially liked VamoLá, a Brazilian drum and dance ensemeble - she could not stop dancing! Here she is dancing around with a friend of mine.

Mimicry is the Finest Form of Flattery

Ravenna and I have been watching Trace, a 6 month old baby, sometimes. I made her a little sling and she likes to dance around cooing and coaxing her own "babies" to sleep the same way I do with Trace.

A Note To My Anonymous Commenter

Today, someone commented on last night's post, "Take a good look at yourself in the mirror. Is it your own self-involved view of the world that is keeping you from connecting?"

Maybe my view of the world does keep me from connecting to those around me. It is quite feasible that it got in the way last night, at least toward the end of the evening, when my spirits started to drop. And you are right, that it is something good to keep in perspective.

I wonder though, why would you post something like that? What is your intent? Applying the label "self-involved", while it may or may not be valid, lends a negative tone to your comment. Not meant to help, meant more to diminish, judge, or invalidate my feelings.

To you, or to anyone else reading this journal - I don't claim that anything here is well written, that it is interesting, or that it is worth reading. I write mainly for myself. I write to sort through my feelings and achieve clarity. I am not posturing or trying to write for any particular audience, so my posts will sometimes - or often - be scattered, confused, colored with some level of angst or immaturity or any other emotion or block that I am trying at that moment to sort through and figure out.

If you have some interest in what I write, whether you are a stranger or an old friend, by all means, stay and read. But if you don't find value in what I write, you don't have to read it; perhaps instead move on to something else that you find to be of more worth.

A Next-Day Update

I woke up this morning feeling much better. Mornings are often good that way. Clear out the junk, hit the reset button, wake up feeling fresh and wondering what it is that got you so tied up and turned around the night before.

Anyway, I'm feeling good. I am not retracting the post, but I'd like to put some perspective to it: I'm generally really happy, I still do like many things about tango and many people within the tango community - but I just have trouble finding a way to fit back into the community entirely within the context of my current situation. It's not the end of the world. It's not awful. People change, tastes change, what fits changes. My life is still full, whether I stay with tango or not, and maybe I will stay, who knows. I wrote the post last night in a moment of angst and stress, and while it accurately reflects that moment, it does not accurately reflect the overall picture. It was just a snapshot.

Thank you to the friends who wrote to check in with me. I'm surprised sometimes that some of you still read, and especially that you catch what I write so soon after I write it. But in spite of that surprise, I am always so happy to hear from you. How lucky I am to have that.

Why I May Be Done With Tango

The tango community is a cold and cruel bunch.

I heard the other day that they still gossip about Jaimes and I now, years after we're done. What do they say after all this time? Apparently some people think I planned it all to be this way. Just like this.

What?

Raising a child basically on my own?

An over-controlling ex who started sleeping with a close friend of mine when my baby was months old and eventually left me for her, and who tries as hard as he can to dictate every detail of my life even now? Who is condescending and mean, who has no respect for me, who disappears for days or months at a time, leaving me to find a way to explain to Ravenna that I know she wants to see him, but he's not around, I have no way to get ahold of him, and I don't know when he will next have time for her?

Right.

I planned it to be exactly like this. Every last detail. Because this is awesome. I couldn't imagine a better situation.

...

If I had PLANNED anything, I would have planned to stay with Evan. I was so happy with Evan. He created joy in my life.

It's just as well that we did not stay together - he has thrived since we split, grown and matured and really settled in his life, in ways that maybe he never could have had he still been here with me. But for me, if I had planned anything back then, I would have planned to have stayed with him.

Instead, I let Jaimes sweep me back away. Look where that got me.

So there's that.

The gossips sure got that right.

Then there are logistics. I can't be around Jaimes. I can't be around Christa. There is too much baggage. And they both have too little care and too little respect for me as a person. It nearly always ends up badly for me, much better for me to just keep a distance and firm boundaries. I want to enable Ravenna to have a loving, functional relationship with her father, but for myself, I need distance and space.

This means that a number of tango events and opportunities that I might normally be drawn to are off limits. For my own sanity and well being I have to stay away.

And having a two year old child 24/7, 7 days a week, 12 months a year, makes it that much more difficult, logistically, to get out. Even if she is incredibly adaptable. Even if she is amazingly tolerant about going out to these things and keeping odd hours and allowing me some space when we are out to maintain and nurse my relationship to this dance. It's still hard to find the time. And to balance everything.

Then there are the dances themselves, when I am able to make it out.

Once in a while I go out, I connect really well with my partner, I lose myself in the music, I feel that I am expressing myself to all my potential, and I remember why it is that I love this music and this dance and everything that has kept me all these years.

But that is rare. Most times, nobody asks me to dance.

Then when I ask, if I ask, maybe they will dance with me. But often only for a few songs, and often projecting an attitude that they are certainly doing me a great favor.

I used to think that it was because I was so often there with Ravenna and people didn't know how to ask me in the context of me being with her. But it's so much of the time, and it's just as much when I find somebody to spend the evening with her and I go out on my own as it is when I am out with her in tow.

Yes, I am out of shape in the dance. I don't have the control over my body to execute technique and movement to the degree that I would like. It doesn't help that I don't have the opportunity to dance much, to get that feeling and control back into my body. Even when I go out to the practices and the dances this remains the case. I spend 3 hours at a practica, of which I get to dance maybe 10, 20 minutes. This is not enough to tone a body. So the situation perpetuates.

Body tone aside, I still have the knowledge. The want. The desire. The love of the music. The love of the aesthetic.

But it doesn't seem to matter.

I didn't spend six years of my life learning this dance so that I could go out and feel like everyone around thinks I am not worth dancing with!

So tonight, for instance:

Tonight was a good night. I was happy. Earlier on, I taught a lesson. It felt so good. I had a feeling of being grounded and in touch with my body.

So a bit later, Ravenna and I stopped in at the practica, and I was in high spirits.

The practica - I'm there, people there come up, say hello, they are friendly, but then they look at me with these shifty eyes that say, "Please don't put me in a position where I feel obligated to dance with you, I really don't want that...and oh! Over there, I have to go, there is somebody I'd be upset if I were to miss dancing with tonight."

Not one. Not a few. Most.

Most people. People I have known for years. People I have often quite enjoyed talking to, interacting with, and yes, dancing with.

...

I started in such high spirits, but I left the dance in tears.

This is typical of my tango experience these days.

Why do I keep going? I don't really know. But nights tonight I feel like it's my own damn fault if I end up feeling this way again, if I'm dumb enough to continue to go out. Like, really, it's maybe just time to sever my relationship with this dance.

Not because of the dance - I love the dance, I love the music - but because of the community. This cold community of people that make me feel so unwelcome. I'm some sort of idiot if I keep letting that into my life. I have good friends, other artistic outlets, great things in my life...tango just sullies it and brings me down.

So maybe I'm approaching the end.

Sewage

. . .It’s been more than 100 years since Teddy Roosevelt wondered aloud whether "civilized people ought to know how to dispose of the sewage in some other way than putting it into the drinking water.". . .

Google!

The NYTimes published a recent article that, while not definitive, enumerated a number of cool google applications. Neat stuff! Some of which I am already familiar with, some of which is new to me.

Sad Snowman

This is the Seattle we know and love.

Day 3. Or 4? I don't even know any more.

This can't really be Seattle...can it??

It just keeps right on snowing!

Yes, those things just barely peeking out are cars.

This isn't some rural area. I didn't stray any further than 5 steps outside my front door to take any of these photos, and I live smack dab in the middle of the city, just north of the University District.

Snow! In Seattle! And a LOT of it!

I'm living in a winter wonderland.

Ravenna, However, Is Feeling Just Fine.

Guess My Mood

Getting ready for the practica tonight...just getting over a flu and emotionally all over the map, felt like showing it in attire and make-up.

And Obama Wins...

Had an incident with Jaimes that predicated that last post. It unfortunately happened just before the election was declared for Obama.

I'm glad that Obama won.

This other stuff has got me so caught up that I can't quite appreciate the election fully, though.

Ah well, I guess there are the next 4 years left for it to sink in.

Where Do I Belong?

Starting to wonder sometimes if I'm making the wrong choice, sticking around here in Seattle. Staying home with Ravenna, living on very tight financial means, tying ourselves to Jaimes, who can be very unpredictable and at times exceedingly difficult.

I want to enable Jaimes and Ravenna to have a good relationship. At the same time, he has little to no respect for me, and so will at times treat me with utter contempt, or he act in ways that are completely inappropriate. What sort of example am I setting for Ravenna to perpetuate this?

Then there is the issue of support. So many people that I used to consider friends have dropped out of my life in the last few years, either after I had Ravenna, or when Jaimes and I split. There are some still around who have proven themselves beyond any doubt, but lately they are busier and busier with their own lives. Seattle is becoming a rather lonely place for me.

I'm not sure I like the way that MN is developing or that I have a great desire to live there again, but at least there I would have family around. That's something special that Ravenna is missing right now.

I love being with Ravenna all day every day and it would break my heart in some small way to give that up to go back to work, but I could make us a good living, and who's to say that some other daily arrangement wouldn't be just as good for her? Children often love day care and pre school and thrive in environments with other children.

I'm so torn up about it all.

What's the right thing?

Is there a right thing?

If I did something else, then she'd be missing everything she has now; my full attention all day every day, a few hours most days spent playing with her father who adores and dotes on her, relationships with several close friends of mine who are really are a sort of "family" to her...and that's all special too. She's such an amazing child, and she's really thrived so far.

Would I be happier somewhere else? Or even here, still, but doing something else? Maybe.

Is that worth giving up these things? I just don't know.

Hair Cut

Here it is! I'm still not sure whether I like it or not.


I had been thinking about cutting it really short, sort of following the line of my jaw. Chantal, who cut my hair, thought that would be really extreme -- except the thing is I've had that sort of cut many times, so it's not that drastic in that I'm already used to the way it looks on me. I've never had this cut so it somehow feels more extreme. Every time I walk by the mirror I catch myself thinking, "Who is that?"

Then again, it's only been an hour. Plenty of time still to warm up to it.

Sleep, Where Are You?

Why is it so hard to sleep when you've got stuff on your mind? Wouldn't it make more sense to drift soundly away and work it all out in your dreams? In your subconscious?

I'm so rarely an insomniac, I just don't know what to make of it. What to do with it.

I'd like to just stay up and do something mindless, clean or code or paint or cook or...something, anything, but Ravenna will wake up in the next 3-5 hours irregardless of how well or how long or how little I have slept. And oh will I regret this then.

Back to lie down, close my eyes, and wish for sleep to find me...

Success!

It is cold today!
Seattle is cold.
My house is cold.
I am cold.
Cold to the bone.
Cold to through and through.
EXCEPT -

Here I be, a proud thing, having conquered many issues with kindling, structure, starters, showing off me first made fire in this place! Success! Light! Warmpth! Heat!

Ahh, fire.

Life is so good in this moment.

Reading a Book

Another Blast From the Past

Hadn't looked at this in years. Pretty sure I drew it in about the same time frame, maybe a year or so before I got the tattoo.

My tattoo

This picture is years old, shoulda posted it when I first got the tattoo, in...what? 2004? But I'm not sure if I ever did. It's my only tattoo, and it's my own design.

Unrequited

I have a crush on a man who is, for a number of reasons, absolutely unavailable. I really like him. And it just doesn't matter at all.

I haven't really felt this way since I was a teenager. Consumed with some feeling that I just can't find the words for, not able to really convey in a way that does it any justice. Can't find the right words, the right picture, the right anything. There's a bit of sadness to it, a bit of bitter sweet, something of an awakening, a bit of a feeling that it's good to be feeling anything at all.

It's all pushing on my chest; wrapped up in a cocoon but the cocoon is too hard, reinforced on the outside, I can't break out.

New Shirt

Rested

Last night, for the first time in weeks, Ravenna was able to sleep the night through, lying down, without needing me to be sitting up holding her. The cold, the sinus infection, the ear infection, the teething, all finally managable enough so that she and I could both get a night of real sleep.

It was AWESOME.

Sleep is, like, the best thing ever.

Sickness, Hers and Mine

Ravenna's still sick. Three days now with this bug...if it doesn't break tonight, we're going in to her pediatrician tomorrow.

Nearly two weeks if you count all the stuff that was going on before, the teething fevers, the ear infections...

It's pretty brutal.

She's finally sleeping for a bit.

And me? I'm doing pretty well.

A little lonely.

I've been stuck lately. Too much time alone with a sick baby, I don't know, I've been stuck obsessing about the why's and wherefore's. Why did Jaimes emotionally check out so soon after Ravenna was born? Why did it seem to him, when we hit some rough times, that the best option was just to bail out on our life? To move on to someone else? I mean...yeah, we had our problems. But all relationships have problems. Show me one that doesn't. And you work through them, don't you? Isn't there something greater, companionship, love, friendship, that makes all of that worth it? Why wasn't it worth it?

When will I start letting go of all these questions? I don't want to carry them around with me indefinately. There aren't really any good answers. It's not helping me to have them on my mind. It's not helping anyone.

Ravenna will be better soon enough. And I'll be out and about in the world again.

Maybe that's all that I need, maybe this obsessing is my own sort of sickness, and when Ravenna breaks free from hers I'll break free from mine. Let's hope.

Worries

Ravenna has been pretty sick for about a week. First there was this cold that started around Thanksgiving...it got better, but she just never totally cleared it.

Then there's teething; she's working on a couple molars and eye teeth all at once.

She's had this on and off high temperature, likely from the teething.

Then, maybe about this weekend, an ear infection kicked in on top of everything.

We went to the pediatrician yesterday and we're working on treating the runny nose and the ear infection. All good and well. But then she got worse again last night, with a temp of 104.1 °F all morning. I talked to the pediatrician again this morning and am giving her something else now to help bring down the fever, so now it's at 102.7 °F. Not as scary, but still worrisome.

She's been so groggy, not herself, wanting to be held all the time, nursed constantly...I'm worried for her. It's a heavy feeling.

Doh!

In a fit of stupidity, I managed to delete all the playlists that I have created over the last several years I've been DJing.

And by "delete", I don't mean they're sitting in the recycle bin...they're gone, gone, gone.

I meant to just clean up space.

And something went wrong while I was cleaning, so I wanted iTunes to resynchronize itself. So I deleted the files I thought would force that to happen.

Well, it does need to resynchronize.

Because it's entire library database is GONE.

So are all its library database backups.

Doh.

On the bright side, I found a disc backup I made in June 2006.

On the dim side, that's still nearly a year and a half of playlists that I'll never get back again. Including every event I've ever DJed with Ravenna.

Bugger.

Long Overdue

I'm finally starting to come back into my own body.

I left Ravenna in the care of my housemates after I put her to bed tonight, then threw on some clothes that only just recently have started to fit well again, brushed out my hair, and went out dancing for a few hours.

It felt SO good.

So, amazingly good.

I'm still floating on air!

There must have been 8-10 people who came up to me tonight and commented on my appearance or my demeanor, who said that they hadn't recognized me from behind. Several of these people were folk who have only met me since my pregnancy, so they never knew me before I went through that great transformation.

I have missed my body.

I have missed dancing, really dancing, without worry, with some level of control over my trunk and limbs.

I've still got a ways to go before I'm completely back, but I'm on the road now, and it feels great.

More of the Same (long and self-pitying, reader beware)

Jaimes says some of the most hurtful things imaginable.

I mean...I guess there are always worse, more hurtful things that could be said. But he says things to me that cause me a great deal of pain.

We got in a fight the other night. Really, about stupid things. I was tired, it was the end of a day that had been terribly stressful, I was not at my best, and he wasn't at his best either. He stormed off.

I called him a few minutes later, and he answered the phone, "It better be important," in a sharp tone of voice. I was stunned and didn't know quite how to respond, so I didn't speak right away...and then he hung up on me.

I messaged him a while later to say that I didn't want to see him for a while, that he doesn't have to live with me, he doesn't have to love me, he doesn't even have to like me...but at a bare minimum, he should be able to treat me with some courtesy and civility. I did say in the message that, while I don't care to spend time with him at the moment, I don't want to keep him from Ravenna, and if he wanted to see her he should let me know and we would arrange details.

Two days passed without a word from him.

Today, I called to ask if and when he wants to see Ravenna, and he took it as an opportunity to get into it about the other night. As he sees it, I am entirely in the wrong, and my message was totally unwarranted. It is perfectly civil for him to answer the phone however he chooses, and to hang up on me if he feels the conversation is not worth his time, and it's unreasonable of me to ask anything else of him. My problem is that I think he and I are equals - and we are not. I need to pay attention, I shouldn't have called, I shouldn't have tried to manipulate him with my silence, I shouldn't have been upset when he hung up and should have expected it, and I shouldn't have sent him such rude, manipulative messages. He hardly let me get a word in edgewise as he expounded on all of these things, and ignored repeated requests to drop the stuff between us and to focus on if and when he'd like to see Ravenna, and on arranging the visit.

Early on in the conversation, I tried to communicate to him that I don't want him to hang up on me when we speak...if he doesn't want to talk to me when I call, let it go to voicemail. I don't think it's an unreasonable request, but he was completely closed off to it, just continued talking over me, interrupting me, telling me how I need to pay attention, understand that he is right, listen, I don't know...it went on and on, I had trouble even keeping track of everything.

Since he was not open to my request about refraining from hanging up on me when we speak, I eventually shifted to asking him to please understand that if he is unwilling alter his behavior in any way, he needs to understand that calling him will not feel safe to me, and I will be less inclined to call, especially when I am tired, stressed out, or already not at my best for some other reason. He didn't take this as well, accusing me of trying to manipulate him, telling me that I need to go to 4 years of counseling, I need to learn to pay attention, that nothing he did or does is unreasonable, that I need to learn the lessons he's trying to teach me, etc.

At some point, Ravenna was crying in the background, and I asked him, "Do you hear Ravenna crying? I can't continue this right now." He hung up on me.

I called back after I had resolved the situation with Ravenna, and he said, "It better be important," very curtly.

I said, "What, are you still trying to teach me some lesson?" We got back into it, the conversation (was it even that?) about the same as before. He told me several times that he was tired of repeating himself, I was boring him. And he finally said that he does want to see Ravenna, that he gets back from Pittsburg on Tuesday (I didn't even know until this moment that he was going out of town), and that he would call me then. Then more of the same. Why can't I just listen? I'm so stupid, boring, I need to learn to pay attention... he was so condescending. And apparently offended that I would presume to think that he didn't understand exactly how I felt. I told him that he is very smart, intelligent, and aware, and probably is aware of the effect that his actions have...perhaps he does not like that I am still so emotionally attached to him, and his actions were intended to sever some of those bonds. He flared up at that and said that I was trying to manipulate him by making him feel guilty. And then, at some point, he said that I have never loved him. That I don't even know what love is, I only want something from him, I only manipulate him...going on, and on...bitter, biting, accusing.

This really, really hurt. I couldn't help myself, I started crying. "I love you, I LOVE you," I said. "How can you say something like that? Do you really mean it?" He talked around my question, maybe said something like, "Would I say it if I didn't mean it?"

After a little bit more of that, I told him I just needed to ask him one more thing, and then I would let him go. He finally gave me a little space to speak, and I asked, "Do you honestly mean everything you have been saying to me, or are you letting anger and frustration color your words?" Again, he didn't answer my question, just talked around it...asked me if I thought he would say something he didn't mean, or something to that effect.

That was it. I kept to what I had said, told him I'd talk to him when he called on Tuesday, and said goodbye.

And then I carried Ravenna inside, told her I was very sad, we laid down on the bed together, and she let me hold her while I cried.

Why does he say things like that?

Even when you're fighting, why would you say something like that to someone you care about?

Does he really believe it? Or was he just saying it because he knew it would hurt me? If he believes it, does that mean that I've wasted these last several years of my life, putting my energy into loving him?

I don't like being hurt this way. I hate it. I hate fighting. I hate getting so emotional. And I hate that he says these things. Whether he means them or not, they are terrible things to say.

All this, and I hardly even see him any more. We don't live together. At most, I see him for an hour or two every day or every few days, so that he can spend time with Ravenna, and sometimes not even that. And still...he has so much power to hurt me. He oscillates from being very loving, sometimes for quite a long time, to suddenly being very hurtful. It's circular; I'm hurt, so I pull away, and then he's very sweet and loving, so I am drawn back in, only so that he can ultimately hurt me again.

I can pull myself further away again now, that's all fine and good, but when will I finally learn to stop letting myself be pulled back in?

A Maritime Pompeii

From Newsweek:

"Pisa is famous for its leaning tower, but archeologists there are now uncovering an amazing fleet of ancient ships, some complete with crew and cargo. . ."

Cool!

How Could Such an Angel Cause Any Trouble at All?

Photo Courtesy of John Lee.

C'mmon, Let Me Drive!

Photo Courtesy of John Lee.

Melts in Your Mouth...

I realized after I posted yesterday that I can be thankful, at least, that she did not realize that she could eat the sugar. That would have been a whole 'nother world of trouble.

Sticky Fingers

I seriously need a maid or something. I can hardly keep up with my house as it is...I'm not managing to get unpacked at all.

Now there's sugar stuck to everything.

I've got this little thing a friend loaned me. She called it a "sensory station". Basically, it's a little table with raised edges that comes a foot or so off the ground, perfect height for Ravenna, and you put stuff in for her to feel and mess around with.

Somehow I had the bright idea this morning to put sugar in it for her -- which was AWESOME -- until she dumped it everywhere, and got it stuck to her hands, and her clothes, and ran around touching everything.

Now the floor, everywhere, not just at the station, is sticky. And the bed is sticky. And...well...generally, everything, is sticky.

I'm cleaning the sugar out tonight while she sleeps. Tomorrow it will be wood shavings, or oats, or something.

Botched Rescue

I just rescued a spider.

I've recently moved, and much of my stuff is still in boxes. Part way through moving, I ran out of packing tape, so I started using duct tape for some of the boxes. It works just as well, although it doesn't always seem to hold to the cardboard quite as well, so sometimes you get corners of it peeling off and hanging down.

Anyways, I was working around some of the boxes tonight and noticed a spider stuck to some duct tape that had been coming off one of them. Further inspection revealed that he was still living, but was quite stuck and incapable of freeing himself.

My first instinct was to leave him. But after a short while I had a change of heart and set about trying to rescue him. I found myself a dull paring knife and talked him through what we were doing as I gently, gently worked his legs away from the tape. His first inclination upon having a leg freed was to grab onto whatever he could with it...which was often the same bit of tape I had just freed it from. After a time, I got him to start clinging to an envelope with the legs I freed, rather than sticking them back on the tape. And after a bit more, he was entirely on the envelope. But somewhere in that struggle something went wrong, and a single leg remained stuck to the tape. Sans spider. And spider, sans leg.

He limped around the envelope, seemingly glad to be freed, but confused and lame.

I apologized for the leg.

Then I took him outside near some bushes, overturned a shallow box to provide him some cover if needed, and released him. I don't know how he'll do, injured as he is.

Was he better off stuck to the tape, dying slowly of starvation?

Or freed in his mangled state?

I'm not really sure.

Detroit, MI...Almost a Foreign Country

I saw this on the FaceBook news feed today, and thought it was pretty funny:

Here are some of the largest regional networks on Facebook.
• Mexico
• Germany
• Sweden
• India
• Detroit, MI

Detroit, MI??

How did that get up there with the likes of Mexico and India?

Look look look!

Look at what I made! It is a map! Showing where I live, and where to park when you come visit me!: Kat's Map

The Times, They are A-Changin'

Tonight is my first night in the new place. It feels...good. I lie in my bed and these large windows surround, and out the windows, trees, trees, nothing else. It's like my little retreat. Only, it is my home.

The energy is so fresh. Nobody has lived in these rooms for a long time. They do not resonate with anyone's energy strongly, they are open to me. To being mine.

Most importantly, for me, right now, there is nothing of Jaimes. I stopped today at the old place to pick some things up (my first time there since I've gotten back to Seattle), and Jaimes was not even there, he is out of town for the weekend, but his energy was resonating so strongly all around the place. Just being in and out, no more than half an hour there, affected me tremendously. It took several hours after I left for my emotions to come to equilibrium again.

I feel more and more strongly that it was right for me to leave, to let him stay, because now i can become more myself again. There is nothing containing me, holding me in.

Short Rant

I am using a PC running Windows XP at my parent's house right now, and I am surprised and disappointed at how poorly the pictures I put on this page display, both in Firefox and in Internet Explorer. So dark and difficult to see. They don't look anything like they do on my PowerBook! I wonder if it's the settings on this machine, or if they display so poorly on all PCs.

Quick Update

I am in the midwest right now, have been since September 13th, and will be until October 12th. Ravenna and I have been having a great time! We've been bouncing around from Minneapolis, MN, to Rochester, MN, to Madison, WI, to Ann Arbor, MI, to Holland, MI, and this weekend we hit Cedar Rapids, IA, and Burlington, IA. We've ridden planes, trains, and automobiles. (The train has been our best ride so far...I was pleasantly surprised at how comfortable it was. Next time I travel out here I'm going to consider taking the train all the way, instead of flying.) I've been catching up with all sorts of relatives and friends, some of whom I hadn't seen for a decade or more. It's been such a luxury, having so much time, and no weddings or funerals or other such events keeping me busy; I've been able to do so much more this trip than I've managed in years.

And yet, even with a full month, at the end of our time out here there will still be people I would like to have seen and things I would like to have done that there just won't be enough time for. There's not enough time in a day, not enough days in a week, not enough weeks in a month...not just on this trip, but generally. It all flies by so quickly. I keep lists in my head of things I'd like to do, projects I'd like to complete, people I'd like to catch up with, and I'm always doing something, working somehow toward checking one of the items off, but the lists get longer and more varied. I guess it's a good thing. I know some people who spend so much time idling, feeling bored, restless...I don't remember the last time I felt bored.

But I do wish I had 10 more hours in a day. Or maybe 5. At least 2. Couldn't we all use 2 more hours every day?

Even with these short days, though, it's been a great trip. So much quality time with so many great people! And then in my free time I've gotten my finances organized, and I've been expanding my knitting skills, working on a sweater, I've done a good bit of reading, and I've settled on a cooperative preschool in Seattle that Ravenna and I will try out when we get back. Productive days.

I wish the end of the trip weren't approaching so quickly, although I am looking forward to unpacking and settling into the new place when I get back.

What's the Difference Between a Sheriff's Department and a Police Department, Anyway?

Someone from the Sheriff's Department in Austin, MN, called today and left a message. I was kinda confused about why they would be calling me.

I called back, but he was on a medical call somewhere.

Then he called me back again a bit later.

It was a short conversation, once we finally spoke. I guess there was some deal with a car being noted somewhere under suspicious circumstances, and the license plate the deputy took down was the MN license for my Taurus.

But...the Taurus has been here in Seattle for years, and it's not even registered in MN any more, it's registered in WA.

So, maybe someone got ahold of the old plates. Or the deputy took down the plate number incorrectly. Who knows.

What a strange mid-day diversion.

My Tank is Leaking

I'm lonely.
But...I've been around people all day.

It's like being hungry, and you eat and eat, but you just get hungrier...

What's the deal? How do I heal this?

Will my loneliness resolve through being alone?
Through getting over this whole mess with Jaimes?
Through time?

I need...something. But I don't know what.

Ah ha!

At least I beat the baby out of bed this morning. Boxes, boxes, here I come.

There Just Ain't Time Enough

It's so hard to get anything done during the day, what with Ravenna demanding most of my attention. So I think to myself, "Hey, I'll just flow with her now, and I'll get my stuff done at night."

But here I am now, at night, she's just gone to sleep...and I'm so doggone tired that I can hardly type up this post.

So, I guess instead of getting my stuff done, I'll just go to bed now too. Again.

So much for tonight.

Spent

I used to feel sad, angry, hurt, betrayed, confused, desperate, enraged. I've cycled through all these emotions the last few weeks.

Today and yesterday, though, I just feel...empty. Limp. Like there isn't really any fight in me any more.

This feeling, it's different than acceptance. More like avoidance? But not that, either. Just, I don't know - absence.

An Apple a day...

My poor Mac, Werbaichi, has been quite ill. She is a G4 PowerBook, running 10.3.9...not totally current, but not that outdated, either.

A long time ago, I installed iSync beta. I stopped using it quite a while ago, because it turned out to be quite buggy; losing calendar items, duplicating items, doing funky things with its various devices. And then recently it's been acting up even more, all on its own; automatically starting, besotting me with error messages, eating up memory, again and again. Each time I shut it down it would start right up again. I couldn't find a way to turn it off, and every link I found to download the uninstaller has been broken.

I was nervous to just start deleting files, but today I bit the bullet and did it. Hopefully just trashing every iSync related file that I could find will keep it from terrorizing my sessions any longer, without compromising any other functionality.

iSync aside, my Mac has been losing gigabytes of memory at a time. I log on and there are 4 G free space, and within an hour she is complaining that there is no free space at all.

I've done numerous searches the last few months trying to figure out what was going on, but until today, all to no avail. I suspected either Firefox or iTunes as the culprits since I had installed updates for each at about the time the problem started, but hadn't narrowed that down with certainty, either.

Then, last week, I figured out that I was losing the space to gigantic console logs. And today, I finally hit gold with this search: "console log huge 10.3.9"! Finally! w00t! It seems that iTunes is the culprit, after all. I deleted all the iTunes plist files, deleted the console file, rebooted, reran the iTunes setup, and...so good so far. Here's hoping the problem is resolved.

Today's Score: Kathryn 2, Werbaichi 0

DJ Kat

I just found out that I'm listed in the Seattle Weekly whenever I DJ at the Century Ballroom. How crazy is that? I'm famous.

Sort-of.

If, by "famous", I meant "relatively unknown".

On Packing

I'm moving this week.

I keep meaning to pack.
I set aside time to pack.
I have boxes in which to pack.
But I keep on not packing.

Shoot me up

Pity is such a strange creature. Especially self-pity.

The other night, I was consumed by it. But then, tonight, Ravenna napped for the last 40 minutes of the evening, I got to dance my heart out for those 40 minutes, delighted in the music and in my partners, felt my body waking up and kicking into gear and figuring out how to move again, and now I'm feeling so, so happy.

It's like a drug. These good nights...they're so good. All the rest of the time, I'm just wanting my fix. I don't need liquor, or caffiene, or narcotics; I've got tango.

I'm No Savior

I glimpsed a truth tonight. Driving home in the rain, having just woken from some intense dreams, struggling with the "Why? Why? Why?'s" that beset so often these days, late at night, when I am alone, my defenses down.

Jaimes is where I was some years ago.

Largely, he is who I was. Broken, scared to death, flailing around. Unable to commit to any one, yet unable to be alone. Destructive. Unable to appreciate the beauty of sharing the smallest things, the ins and outs of a life, with another person. Wanting to be with everyone, but not able to truly be with anyone.

I sabotaged some relationships that could have been truly beautiful. At the time, I felt unable to follow any other course.

This brings up a corollary truth...

Let's look at Jeremy. Jeremy was probably one of the most solid people I have ever been involved with. I loved him. I could see then and can see still that he is an amazing person to be involved with.

But...

If he and I had stayed together, it might have lasted years and years, maybe a lifetime, but I believe I would have remained broken, flailing, scared and destructive all the while.

He couldn't save me.

I needed the time and events that have come in the years since to act as a catalyst. I couldn't change as I needed to when I was so supported by him...I needed to fall, fall some more, and shatter on the ground, all so that I might order myself back into some semblance of health and sanity.

This idea is elusive even to me, yet I feel it is a fundamental truth. I could have stayed with Jeremy, but it would have been broken and unhealthy, _I_ would have been broken and unhealthy, and I don't think I would have been able to heal properly all the while that I remained with him.

In the years since, time and circumstance shaped me so that I am in a place where I feel I am now ready for what he and I could have had.

But that time is past. Jeremy might have been a right person, but he was at the wrong time.

Thus it is with Jaimes.

I believe I am ready for a solid, healthy relationship. But Jaimes is where I was these years ago.

Maybe I am a right person for him, but it is not the right time. He needs to flail and destroy as he will. Supporting him will not heal him; it will only postpone whatever needs to happen for him.

For all the want in the world, I can't save him.

Maybe I Need to Comb My Hair More Often

Some guy mistook me for a beggar tonight and tried to offer me money.

He and his girlfriend ran after me, stopped me before I got in my car, asked me, "What do you need, money?" and I think they were trying to hand me a $20. I was really confused. I didn't understand what they were asking at first, why he was waving a fistful of dollar at me, had I dropped it and he was trying to return it or what? Then he asked me how old Ravenna was. "11 months," I said. He told me that she is a beautiful baby boy. Almost at the same time his girlfriend apologized to me and, apologizing profusely still, they slunk away. It wasn't until then that I realized what had been going on, that they had thought I was in need and were trying to be good samaritans, that they had been trying to give me the money he had been waving on.

Prior to this encounter I had been at a tango gathering at a friend's loft in Pioneer Square. If you're not in the know about Seattle, Pioneer Square is a hip corner downtown filled with bars and clubs and an active nightlife. Post gathering, maybe 12:30 in the morning, I was walking to my car with one bag over my shoulder, a backpack on my back, carrying Ravenna wrapped in her blanket.

I wasn't dressed to the nines like so many of the clubbing women out on the street, but I wasn't dresed poorly. Dressy top, flowing pants, flip-flops. My hair was groomed and I was wearing some jewelry I find aesthetically pleasing.

So what was it? Was it the baby?

Was it the way I was dressed?

My demeanor?

It was all so surreal.

Pointless Pithy Pity Party

Tango is such a source of frustration for me right now.

I just want to dance. I want to dance to music that moves me. I want to express myself through movement as best as I am able.

But...

I don't have the resources to have Ravenna babysat too often. And I don't want to be away from her too much.

And when I bring her with me to a dance or a practica, she takes up almost all of my time. She's been going through a particularly clinging phase the last few weeks, and she doesn't want to let her mom dance with other people, no matter how much fun she herself is having. Often she'll fall asleep towards the end, but not until a good 3/4 of the evening is gone, at least.

Then, when she is finally asleep, and I'm free to dance...I still don't get to dance. People don't ask me. The few times that I do get to dance, I'm not dancing to the best of my ability; I'm not in shape for tango because I do it so rarely right now. My body isn't moving the right way, it's so out of practice. So, maybe because I'm not so much fun to dance with these days, or maybe because they're just used to me being unavailable and thus not in the habit of asking me, maybe both, or maybe something else entirely, the leads don't ask me.

So many nights the night is over and I didn't get to dance at all. Or maybe just a couple songs.

What's the deal? Do I need to just let go of tango?

I don't want to let go.

I want, so badly, to dance. I want to create beauty and art through movement to music that speaks to me. I want to connect with someone else to the music through the dance.

In the last month, since our Seattle tango festival drew to a close, I don't think I've danced more than 30 minutes total. If that. Just a song, or if I'm very lucky, maybe a whole set, here and there.

It makes me so sad. I'm filled with longing, I'm unfulfilled. I want. I want to dance. Move. Create. Express.

Many of the leads I would like to dance with, many of them my friends, seem uninterested in dancing with me in a way that leaves me feeling dejected and angry. They give the impression that they don't see me, don't want to see me, that I don't exist for them as long as the music is playing. They're busy pursuing dances with women who are much more practiced and able than myself.

Because I'm not dancing, I'm falling more out of practice. I want to be getting better, improving my dance, but it just keeps deteriorating.

So much frustration! And frustration is not attractive. It does not make people want to dance with me more. It keeps them away even moreso.

So...

What is it? Do I need to just give tango up?

It seems like so much of my life right now is a lesson in giving things up. Jaimes. My notion of a family. Maybe it's fitting if I had to give tango up also, it's another chapter in the same lesson book.

But I don't want to give it up.

I want it.

For me. I want it so badly. It's the meat of my creative leaning.

And for Ravenna. She loves the music and the culture and the people so much. I don't want to take it away from her.

I want to dance, dance, dance, dance, dance.