Nutcase 101

Friday, I was doing normal stuff and then broke my foot. You know because it’s there.

Of course, it wasn’t on purpose. And I won’t go into boring detail but I wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary when the event occurred. Alright, got the boring stuff out of the way.

But the one thing that I’ve learned about having a broken foot, is that bathroom stuff SUCKS! Especially on crutches. Yes, I know that you’re shocked that being handicapped isn’t a breeze. The worse is taking a shower. Stepping requires a full strategic plan from what foot goes where and how to use a crutch to support your body weight. Then the important events of shaving your legs are out the window because you can’t put your weight on the foot with the broken bone. Stupid broken bone, getting in the way of smooth calves. I guess I’ll start the ‘be like Mo’Nique, hairy leg freak’. (And if for some reason Mo’Nique reads this – covering all bases – I love you girlfriend and your new husband Oscar!)

Because my foot was the target, I decided that I was going to try to balance as much as possible on the good foot while trying to shampoo, condition, scrub, exfoliate, and rinse. Guess what I found out? I don’t have much of sense of balance at all. But I think you all figured that out when I told you that I broke my foot. Thankfully, B was nearby in case I needed because after getting out of the shower, which required hurdle/tub jumping (I’m so ready for the 2012 games!), he helped me put on my pants. I’d go with skirts because they don’t require leg shimmying but please see last line of previous paragraph. I’m not that bold yet to show my new leg beards off.

So, now we’re all up-to-date. Tomorrow, I find out how bad the damage truly is to the metatarsal and determine if surgery is needed. We’re going with ‘please no surgery, I’ll be good and where the boot’ begging stance when I see the doctor. Until next time.

As B and I were leaving a building this evening, we had the pleasure of riding with a group of eight or so coworkers who were departing for home, bars, where ever.

The first on the elevator was a female from the coworker group and she put her arm on the elevator door to be courteous and make sure that all of us got into the car. As we entered, the elevator was emitting a high pitch alarm and the door holder stated, “I hate that the elevator always makes that sound when we’re getting on!” Others from the coworker group nodded their head or commented in the affirmative that indeed the elevator alarm was annoying.

Me, crowded in the back piped up, “You know, if you press the “Door Open” button to let everyone on the elevator instead of putting your arm in front of the elevator door, you wouldn’t cause the door alarm to go off.”

They turned, and I swear it was in unison, and looked at me in dumb belief. And finally, one of them said, “You know, I thought that there was something wrong with these elevators. I didn’t realize it was us.” Come to find out that they were consultants*. That explained so much.

*And if you’re a consultant, I love ya – I once was one, a long time ago.

SIDE NOTE: The feed for the blog has changed, you will need to update your feed readers – the feed is here: http://nutcase101.com/feed

If you, my lovely five readers, haven’t noticed that for the most part these last few posts have been phoned in. The only one that I can state that I’ve really taken pride in and wanted to write was the one about B and I’s five year anniversary. When I wrote that post the words flew off of my finger tips and I couldn’t wait to click the publish butt on and share with you all my love for my wonderful man.

My lack of creativity isn’t contained to just writing, it’s also affecting my sewing and knitting life. Projects that I’ve been jonsing to do are sitting on the side waiting for my motivation to come back from the vacation that it took without my permission.

And I know what chased part of it away and I don’t really want to talk about it because I’ve bored you enough with my inability to deal with my Grandmother’s passing. Sometimes it feels better to do nothing that to do anything, especially when she was such a huge part in fostering my drive to be creative in the area of crafts. There are also other pressures that are compounding it that I won’t bring into the blogging world.

All I can ask is that you forgive me for not having fabulous posts, or pseudo-fabulous posts of late. Writing isn’t my forte but it is part of the outlets that I have to get things out of my head and it’s much cheaper than therapy.

(This was supposed to have been published February 11th but I forgot – Ooops.)

Two million, six hundred twenty-eight thousand minutes.

That’s how long B and I have been walking this earth declaring our love for one another. And honestly, I had no clue that much time I had passed since we first decided that I’ll be his and he’ll be mine.

Ours wasn’t a traditional meeeting: Girl meets boy on couch of loud party. Boy talks to girl to not be bored at party he didn’t really want to attend. Girl responds to boy because she’s at a party that she didn’t really want to attend. Boy looks for common thread to make the time more enjoyable and Girl talks about computers, servers and connection speed. Boy gets really excited because Girl speaks fluent geek.

From that fun filled night of discussing processors and IT follies, we exchanged numbers and Instant Messaging accounts. Yes, we’re that dorky. And from that party until today, we’ve spoken every day.

We also knew that he was just visiting my locale when we left each other that night but decided it would be great to have friends in different locations. The friendly chats turned flirty and we decided we needed to see each other just one last time. Because what we had couldn’t be ‘real’, it was just harmless fun and a mere fascination.

But, two states, over 5000 miles flown and 600 plus miles driven and hundreds of thousands of cell phone minutes, we sit here married and very much in-love.

To you B, love of my life. I’m so glad you sat on that couch bored out of your mind five years ago. May we speak geek with fervor for many, many more years.

Yes, I used the f-word in the title of my post. Pull your jaw up off of the floor and make sure you don’t bite your tongue as you roll it back up into your head.

Life is hunky doory.

Oh wait it’s not always happy. Sometimes it is.

But right now, we’re trying to figure out which way is up because we’ve been through a lot of good and bad change in our lives in just the last couple of months. A lot of it is really affecting B, because people in this world aren’t always who you thought that they would be and sometimes they change on a dime.

But there have been a lot of freaking awesome. People that take time out of their lives to tell you that you’re appreciated and they think you’re worth keeping around. This has been a continuing thread in both B and I’s lives and that gives us the warm fuzzy feeling inside.

I wasn’t going to write this post. Hell, I put up a fluff piece about the cats. THE CATS. I love the cats but they haven’t cured cancer or done anything YouTube worthy for them to become internet stars.

So, life is life. It’s fun, scary and damn interesting moment-by-moment. Honestly, I’d like it to slow down a bit to the pace it was before but if this is what it takes for B and I to make a life for ourselves, then so be it.

(Part two of two on religion in my life.)

The question I dread when I go home to visit my family is, “Have you found a church home?”. I use to be direct, with a “No.” Then of course that leads into the dreaded, “Why? Why not?” and that’s when I typically find a big ol’dish of bean dip to hand the inquisitor.

I know that they pray for my ‘lost soul’ but my soul isn’t lost or wandering around without spiritual guidance. I’m getting plenty of it in my daily discussions with God. I pray fervently in all things, good, bad, and ridiculous. I think a bad thought and I ask forgiveness. I cuss out the driver that cut me off and I pray for God to give him guidance (and sometimes I think that it should be off the road and into a poll – but then I have to pray for forgiveness). I pray for people that have to go through horrific ordeals and I am thankful for all that I’m given.

But the bottom line is that the only judgment that I need is God’s.

Some glad morning when this life is o’er,
I’ll fly away;
To a home on God’s celestial shore,
I’ll fly away (I’ll fly away).

I’ll fly away, Oh Glory
I’ll fly away; (in the morning)
When I die, Hallelujah, by and by,
I’ll fly away (I’ll fly away).

(Fair warning: This post deals with spirituality and is part one of two.)

This old church hymn haunts a lot of memories of my childhood, teenage years and adulthood. In each phase the lyrics evoked different emotions in my soul.

As a child, it was a promise of what was to come if I followed the hallowed rules that my parents set for me because in my eyes, they were my deity on Earth that I was to obey so that the real God would allow me to cross through the pearly gates when I was to no longer roam in this world.

As a teenager, it was what I clung to when others my age were experimenting and walking, running away from the harsh bound bible that was thrown at them when they did something wrong. I knew that if I kept up my walk of salvation that waiting until marriage, no drinking, getting good grades would be an honor to my God because I decided to walk with him and not ‘in this world’, my glory would be obtained.

And, as an adult, I realized that my clinging to what others wanted me to hold on to wouldn’t grant me my freedom in heaven but my allowing myself to be free to know myself in this world, I’d fly to learn who I am and what I really believe God is to me. And that was my glad morning.

I freely admit, to the dismay of my family, that I don’t go to church on a regular basis. Churches were made with the hands of man and my relationship with God was to be one between him and I, not between me, him and the intermediaries that believe that they are holier than me. Those that have proven, and again very recently, that the acts that they commit on behalf of their relationship with God can be done without regards for others, even if the righteous destroy the lives of good people for their benefit to worship.

One thing I do know is that there are good, spiritual people in this world. And, as I’ve stated before, each person’s relationship with a higher deity, or lack there of, is their own. For me, I believe that there is a God, who is – just is. But I will not accept the judgment of others and my faith because until that morning, I fly away, it is mine and mine alone.

When life freezes the lemons, you get really fucking cold lemonade.

There are points where you think you’re emotionally okay and then life places an emotional glass window in front of you and you walk right into it. It hurts physically because you walked into it with full force, emotionally because you didn’t see it coming and then everything inside lingers.

Yesterday, I took a simple photo of Lola hiding under an afghan on the couch because it was cold in the apartment and she wanted some warmth.

The picture doesn’t really capture the adorableness of the moment but B and I wanted to remember her trying to find a spot to cover up, because her fur coat wasn’t cutting it.

That’s when I walked into the emotional glass window.

It was the afghan that triggered the whole thing because I thought I should really email Grandma this photo, she’d love it. She made the afghan and should see that we use it and that our pets enjoy wrapping up in it. But, I can’t. She won’t receive it. At least not on any PC on this planet.

Then I thought maybe I should put the afghan away so that it would be saved forever and ever. It was a ludicrous thought, then I wouldn’t be able to wrap up in something that was crafted with her hands and made with so much love.

And I know that’s why she made it because even though she isn’t here to give me a hug, she gave it to me in the way of fibers twisted together to make yarn and then bound together by a Grandmother that loved me very much. That’s the part of the emotions from my glass window that lingers on.

The afghan won’t go into hiding because there are still going to be moments of when I find that birthday card she sent or another momento, that I’ll need it for a hug that no one on earth can provide.

Life is full of comfort zones in life and we take them for granted. One of that B and I knew that was coming in 2010 is that we were going to be challenged to get out of this warm nest that we had established and take a huge leap of faith.

This leap affects B more than me because he’s going to start working on developing his own business outside of the shadow of a group that he’s independently worked with for the last six years. He’s always wanted to go out on his own and has the skillset to be successful. Honestly, the response he’s gotten from his contacts has been incredibly receptive. We knew that this day would come and now that it’s here, we have butterflies in our stomach and voices in our head screaming, “Economy. Is this going to work? Take the easy way out and the sure thing.”

But, each time I look at a business that’s successful, I think, “Someone had to believe in themselves and their product before any of this could happen.”

So, please send out some happy karma, say a little prayer and think positive thoughts for us.

If you’re awake and reading this post, you’re probably aware that 2009 has passed us by and 2010 is now what we’ll be writing on checks (if you still write checks).

This year, I do have resolutions and by putting them in writing and allowing public scrutiny, maybe I will actually execute said resolutions. Let the resolution games begin!!

- Organize the boxes of stuff in the my closet and guestroom closet. These boxes belong to both B and I pre-relationship and they (in my case) have not been opened in YEARS – at least four. A lot of the stuff either needs to be given away, sold or thrown away. Obviously we don’t need most of the items because we haven’t cared enough to pry off the lid.

- Exercise once a week. Just once a week, really how much ass power will that take me? I could say three times a week and be sorely disappointed with myself but once a week will wet my whistle for exercise and possibly cause me to go to the gym more. Because I know me, that once I get into the pattern/habit/addiction of exercising, I’ll want to go and will miss it when I don’t.

- Cook dinner at home twice a week. I’ve been incredibly slack in the area of cooking for B and I, relying on fast food, quick dinner restaurants to be our source of nourishment. This has caused both of our waste lines to expand in ways that make us sad puppies. Also, all my pots and pans are threatening to leave because of the neglect.

- Only buy yarn or fabric once every two months and the purchase amount has to be less than $25. I need to take pictures (once the closets are organized) of my yarn and fabric stashes. I think I have enough fabric to make 10 king size quilts and enough yarn to make all friends and extended family a nice warm scarf or a pair of socks. It’s ridiculous.

Four is a nice even number and none of the resolutions are overwhelming by any means – completely doable. And hopefully, I’ll do them. Let 2010 begin.