y'know, my bio sounds a whole lot better in Portugese. i ran it thru the Babelfish translator just for kicks, and even tho i don't read Portugese, it just had a certain flair to it. i'm just sayin'.
it's 8 pm, and i'm still at work. it's been a long, rough day, and i'm a bit punchy. according to my Zen tarot, letting go and recognizing my inner season of spring will help me move forward. god, i make it sound dorky! really, it's a wonderful tool, a combination of tarot reading and Zen philosophy. i've taken to pulling my card for the day to help me focus a bit in the morning.
and i could use a lot of focus these days, because i've got a lot of frustration and anger and pain running around in my brain. re-centering after losing such an important relationship has been tough. but i'm working on it. the ex and i went to dinner last night, and i'd thought about it over the past weekend. what i wanted was to go out, in a neutral place, and have a light, casual conversation. yes, to a degree, that translates to superficial. it sort of has to. there's too much that i've lost, and too much pain. thinking about it makes it hurt more. but i'll be damned if i'm going to lose another friend. he's a good person, and a good friend, and we know a lot about each other. that's a rare commodity. so i consciously went into dinner setting aside a lot, and trying to look forward. it worked pretty well. at least, it did until he dropped me off and blew me a kiss goodnight.
i didn't really let it out until today, at lunch, as i was sitting here reading. as always, pamie says it better than i ever do. [she's a wonderful writer, and i'm a little in awe whenever i read her stuff.] so i finished reading her entry for today and just sat at my desk bawling (quietly). she nailed it right on the head, and captured so much of what's going on, and i'm sad for her, and trying not to feel too sad for me, and trying not to let anyone see me weeping whenever it creeps up on me.
::deep breath:: oh, my. i also got a little freaked out last night, because there was a hand-addressed letter for me from an address i didn't recognize. there was a return address, but no name. and my name was rather quirkily titled. all i could think was 'oh damn. some freak has found me thru the 'net, tracked down my address, and sent me a gift. how thick are letter bombs?' not that i'm paranoid, but... of course, once i opened it, it all made sense. a friend of mine is a state medical examiner. i'd forgotten what state, which is why the address made no sense. he was sending me a check to sponsor me for the MS Walk. ::wipes brow:: phew.
and then i hear that my best friend is unemployed, because the person who offered her a job that she was supposed to start today withdrew the offer. yesterday. after she'd quit the old place. yeah. and her girlfriend is also having job trauma. so things pretty much suck all the way around.
but there were a few bright spots in my day; one was going to the mailroom right after reading pamie's entry and finding my package from Amazon UK. yee ha! it's the new Harry Potter books! J. K. Rowling wrote two of the textbooks talked about in the HP books, and the sales all go to charity. and boy, did they show up at the right time. made me laugh and whoop down the hall. 8)
so, just in case i needed more proof, my white cat proved once again what a freak he is. i had gotten this snack called a Yam Yam Cup last week. it's a tall cup with cookie sticks, and across the top of the cup is a half-circle cup with chocolate (hazelnut chocolate, actually) to dip the cookie sticks in. and it comes with a prize. my prize was a red plastic top with a glitter sticker on top and two little wings, one blue and one yellow, that flip out when you spin it. it's small, about an inch across, and it spins really well. this is what Cracker Jack prizes used to be like. so, as i lie on the couch watching TV, i'll reach down and spin my top on the floor. white cat is fascinated. he comes over and watches intently. no batting, just intense peering. he gets his nose closer and closer, almost on top of the top. and when it stops, he looks up at me, then back at the top, then picks the top up in his mouth and drops it on the floor, then looks back up at me as if to say 'hey! how come i can't make it spin?' yo, opposable thumbs, my boy. i have 'em, you don't. so much amusement was had by spinning the top for white cat over and over. ah, small brain, small pleasures.