The Long Lost Journal of Johanna Marie

And then from the aether... :) Just got a way-later-than-usual text from a friend/co-host and the warm fuzzies returned:

"I apologize that it is late, but I might as well say this while I have the balls to do so-- When Mallory was PD she was pressuring me to fire you as RFK co-host. I ducked her and said shit like "well, I'm evaluating my options blah blah blah." Just before her tenure ended I told her she had shitty management skills and she agreed. I've always felt badly that I didn't go more to bat for you. You're one of the best friends I've ever had, and the only co-host that's ever made sense since the original configuration (which lasted too few months). Most of RFK is you and I together and I adore it. And that Rollins bit is an enormous bit in the win column. Also, Christina says you rule. Sorry if I woke you, but then go back to sleep FEELING LIKE A CHAMPION."

I don't feel anything close to a champion, but the warm glow of accomplishment is there sometimes, and that's more than I've had in a long while, so I'm pleased. It's nice to hear good stuff now and then.

This is some kind of tired, all brain pervasive. I've come to the conclusion that three is the largest number of jobs I should have simultaneously. Three is fine, two is great, and one would be ideal, but four is way more exhausting than I expected and until my back stops being all twingy during certain movements, thus allowing me to go back to the gym, the outlets I need to keep up this kind of pace just aren't there. In a perfect world, something in my past would've taught me more profound coping mechanisms than, "Welp, things need doin', so I'd better do 'em." This isn't a complaint, per se, as head-down power throughs have been very successful as far back as I can remember - I once gave myself a 103 degree fever trying to meet an absurd deadline, but you'd better believe that program was done before I passed out on the auditorium stairs - but it just seems that there's a more logical way. Of course there are better ways when you can involve other people, and I have as much as I can, but this is one of those situations in which I would double my workload trying to guide other people through the process, as they're even less suited to it than I am.

I don't know if I mentioned it in my last entry, but my Program Director quit a couple of weeks ago and then disappeared, totally throwing out the plan we had to get me trained to be pro-tem PD, which would've taken a mere two days and saved me hours of extra digging, trying to find everything I need to get the station staffed back up again. It fell to me to take over, not just because I'm the GM, but because I'm really the only one who can jump in and get us running at speed again before turning it over to whoever ends up in the position for the remainder of the contract period. Hence the fourth job. In the past two days, I hired three new DJs, got the art chart and concert calendar beefed back up, went through 183 unread PD account e-mails (about fifty of which were from me), sorted out incorrect time slot assignments that had been given to four of the newer DJs, gotten the non-active DJ sub list resurrected, and, hopefully, recruited three new applicants for DJ positions. All of that on top of all the stuff I have to do as GM. Throughout all of this we did Barking Tuna Fest and I worked at The Little a' plenty. And school. I honestly had to come back to this paragraph to add that, as it had completely vacated my gray matter. Even when I'm in class it doesn't seem real, like I'm having a very boring, poorly paced daydream before I go back to WIDR Woman mode.

For now, all I want to do is lay on the couch with my big headphones on and listen to Lou Reed, Tom Waits, Mose Allison, and maybe some Laura Nyro, but she's frequently too peppy for the mood I'm in. It's nights like this that the lack of other really gets to me. Sure, I'd like to talk about my day and all that, but when I get down to the bare bones of it, I really just want a bit of a cuddle. I miss nice, manly arms that imbue a sense of safety and strength. It's been years since I've had that. Came close a few times, but it just didn't jibe. Just being in the same room with someone like that, reading, working, whatever, even if you're not talking or touching, is nice. For sure I miss being around a masculine energy that's equal to my feminine energy - yes, yes, I know that's extraordinarily hard to find a match for, but I need what I need - and I think that although I'm kind of high maintenance emotionally, as long as I know what's what I can roll with almost anything. Same old, same old. Recharging is just an important thing and I know from experience that Al Green and Talking Heads can only do so much. I need someone who can help me expand mentally and emotionally, even when I stay relatively still physically. I'll figure out a way to travel someday and that'll help. Side note: just as I started writing this, Al Green's "Tired of Being Alone" came on; what a satisfying bit of synchronicity. :)

At the end of the day I've found that lately I'm just too mentally washed out to cook, which sucks for any number of reasons that you likely already know. I have a lovely pair of peppers and a non-rudely shaped turnip just begging to be made into something delicious, but I haven't it in me to make that happen today and I likely won't tomorrow. This means I've been going out a lot more than usual, which I can do because I'm a kick ass coupon lady and know how to make that voodoo work for her. Often I'll end up at KBE, because even though I'm not really a drinker they've pretty much adopted me as almost one of their own and it's kind of become my home away from work away from home. The food is also killer and the guys in the kitchen frequently do cool, extra things to whatever I order. It's nice to actually have someone take care of me, which sounds silly, given that I'm paying for service, but it's different. Someone even having the thought to do something nice for me, let alone doing it - poaching an egg to go on my salad rather than giving me the hard boiled ones that usually come with it, for example - means a lot.

Anyway, the point is that for the first time in...actually, I don't actually remember the last time this happened...but I went to a place I don't usually frequent and whether it's because I tend to keep old lady hours when it comes to dining or because the places I usually go seat me in quieter sections that I don't notice this happening, the people there were really bugging me with what should've been innocuous behavior. There was a couple who came in shortly after I did and it was the oddest combination of irritating and sad. They sat on the same side of the table, got a couple of beers, and, until about fifteen minutes later when another regular who happened to be a friend settled into the table across from them, the woman just blathered at her husband about the genuinely pointless things she'd spent her day on. I don't have a problem with sharing your day, obviously, but she spent five minutes talking about each of the items she got at Meijer and then, I couldn't make this up, pulled the receipt out of her purse and started reading off the prices of each one before and after she used a coupon. The husband just sat there, not speaking or even nodding, and my heart broke for him, while simultaneously being gobsmacked that over the years both people allowed this to be the norm. What a waste, of time, of yourself, and of each other. And my time, but that's very small picture thinking. It just really bugged me. I was too tired to drown it out with my book and it was such a dehumanizing situation, albeit in a totally first world way. I can't imagine being in that situation with anyone, let alone someone I would spend my whole life with. Blows my mind.

I sometimes worry that because I don't have the intimate personal connections I used to, or at least thought I had, though time has shown that to be not so much the case, I'm becoming too hermity again. It's highly likely, but unless we're talking about investing my time in activities and people that will actually give me something in return, I simply haven't the energy. Things aren't bad, I'm just lonely, though there do seem to be a couple of reasonable fixes on the way.

My friend Ryan sent me a massive stash of goodies from Dischord records for WIDR. Long story short, someone in the past didn't like them, so we don't get their stuff, and I think that's insane, so since Ryan was moving back to DC to work for Dischord again, I asked him how I could go about getting a relationship with the station and the label going again. His response was, "What's your address?" He is an awesome fella. So somewhere in a truck on its way to me, but hopefully a Michigan warehouse because it's closer, is a big box full of music that not only rocks and will get added to the WIDR library, but is also filled with notes about his favorite tracks, because as per his instructions, he wants to talk about everything in it! Wheee! Musical pen pal! I cannot tell you how excited I am about this. I don't get to talk much to people who geek out about music as much as I do, but aren't kind of asses when there's a disparity in knowledge. That sucks the fun right out of it. But Ryan was explicit that we were to take up nerdy correspondence, so I finally get to cut loose. Based on what he said, I suspect that the initial batch will be enough to keep me busy reviewing for the better part of this and next month, but he's already said that in addition to the stuff he's sending for the station, there will be several goodies just for me, namely the Void/Faith Split LP, which Henry Rollins recommended to me when he replied to a note I'd sent him, and a bunch of stuff from his other other band, Soccer Team. How cool is that? Even cooler than it seems.

The Soccer Team stuff is extra special, because when I had my kids music show on WIDR I used to play tracks from a kick ass album called Play: Cool Songs for Cool Kids, and my favorite on it was a song called "I'll Never Fear Ghosts Again." I played it a lot more than I probably should've, but I loved it and it had a number of great messages. It figured heavily into a show I did about empowerment and fear being for suckers. I never of heard anything else by them, so I figured they were a one-off group just for the CD. About two years ago, Adeline's mom was talking about Ryan's band and the name Soccer Team got mentioned, leading to an audible double take on my part and a "Whatwhatwhat?! As in the ghost song from 'Play' Soccer team?" She said yes and I had one of the biggest fangirl moments I'd had in that decade. Awesome Ryan made one of the best kids songs ever and we've been hanging out all this time without me knowing? Squee! I love it when such happenstances happen to happen. They've done a bunch of music and it's all incredible. So you can see why getting that is such a warm fuzzy.

Yeah, ups and downs. Glad game trumps all in the end. Tuckered and lonely, but well-liked and occasionally taken care of. There's enough to keep me going. Of course writing about that has made me feel a lot better, so I guess I've got some better coping mechanisms after all. I really do want a good bit of toe curling kissing. That doesn't come in the mail.

There's so much I want to write about, but I'm having a strangely hard time starting in on it all. The past week has been full of some pretty sweet triumphs and a few developments that could've easy been disasters, but I seem to have managed to prevent that. The end result is that I feel pretty damn good about myself, and since I've finally gotten used to not having anyone to celebrate triumph with, I actually get to enjoy all of it. Everyone who was a part of it, staff, audience, and artists, had a killer time and left feeling both rocked and appreciated. I love it when that happens

On my end, I felt almost no stress throughout the whole process, which is completely mind boggling. Not getting funding from the Campus Activities Board was a blow and pretty stressful for a few days, but aside from that, even when one of our headliners dropped out, I didn't have any significant or lingering stress that I can think of. Everyone had smooth traveling, sound checks, and we're very pleased that we fed them good food and actually read the riders. Several people told me that. I was surprised to hear it, but then again I am Miss Hospitality. I love taking care of people. Everyone who's had to deal with not being taken care of knows what a difference an extra step or two can make to folks, so it just comes naturally. Even the people from the venue said everything was smooth and that I'd done a good job. I was quietly proud of that bit. They've got no reason to jerk me around.

One of the most surprising and enjoyable things about the weekend was that I had more physical contact in two days than I'd had in months. Solid, professional handshakes, lots of hugs, hands, elbows, shoulders, and all kinds of other body parts casually brushing in the course of loud venue close quarter talking, some of which actually was flirting, which was quite a treat. Turns out I'm good at it after all. Nothing came of it, of course, but that wasn't the intent anyway. My stores have been replenished and I'm ready to go another few months. The loneliness is still a problem, but again, I just need that one person, which isn't the worst position to be in.

My favorite part of the night was French Horn Rebellion. They were the act that I was most looking forward to and not only were they all incredibly nice, fun guys to hang out with, they blew the doors off the place. I mean, wow, no one knew what they were in for. The fact that they use one of my favorite songs as an opener - The Brothers Johnson's Stomp! was one of those rare confluences that...I don't know how to describe it...not quite jouissance, but certainly something that let me let go, made me feel all safe and happy and ready to party. One of those, "Whoa, I'm not the only one" moments I suppose. In any case, it was quite a party. I danced like a maniac, sang at the top of my lungs, and got to be in front of folks who really gave it their all, something far too few people do these days. I got the impression that they would've played just as intensely for five people as they would've for five hundred. Not all electronic artists can say that. Heck, a lot of guitar and drum artists can't say that. I'm just so grateful that I got this. Most of the time I'm just dancing around my room, office, or bathroom, so to be a part of something larger with music I love is still kind of a trip. I forget what it's like to have people around for stuff that matters.

The only thing that's been genuinely problematic is my workout schedule. Barking Tuna threw that into serious disarray last week, which I could normally deal with just fine, but I just switched over to the stair machine for cardio and it's kicking my ass like I'm a Chuck Palahniuk character, so having the right pacing for acclimation is important. I may spend an extra week on it just to get things evened out. Plus my butt looks and feels great, and if that's after a paltry week, well then who knows what's in the cards after three.

No, wait, I forgot. We did have a real problem. Our Program Director stepped down and even though she said she'd still be at BTF, she bailed and wouldn't respond to any of our calls, texts, or e-mails, so once I knew she wasn't dead I was pissed for about 30 seconds. I don't get mad all that much any more, at least not for longer than a minute or two. It's a pain, but not one I can't handle, so why waste energy one someone who isn't worth it, you know? I'll be taking over her job for a couple of weeks, doing interviews, getting the schedule filled, training new DJs, and getting the staff mobilized to help, something which I know they'll all want to do. When I finally leave this job, I genuinely believe that I will have had some impressive accomplishments, but I can never tell until I see them all down on paper.

I also got some sweet new vinyl thanks to the fellas at The Corner Record Shop: Miles Davis' Porgy & Bess, Lydia Lunch's Oral Fixation, and, thanks to a surprising stash of still-in-the-wrapper original pressings that just got brought in, Black Flag's The First Four Years, which is one of those albums that was in the mysterious box of awesome given to me by my thoroughly rad babysitter just before I went into 5th grade, the one that I've been trying to recreate, as the albums themselves went missing after the divorce. It was a haul that brought me a great deal of joy. When I have a spare few hours this week, I'm going to get a blanket and lay in front of the hi-fi with my headphones and listen to all of them without interruption. Evenings spent like that are far from wasted.

One of the side effects of pouring oneself wholly into non-self driven endeavors is that one tends to forget about the stuff one planned on doing in one's off time. Which is why I haven't written - at least, not outside of my head - since last month, but to be fair, things have been moving very quickly and I know how important it is that I get a reasonable amount of sleep. If I were dealing with a film festival or an eight-day run of a Broadway show with a 5 am call, I could power through on three hours a night and a 20 minute power nap before curtain, but I need brain for all my current doings that are a' transpiring.

That's become a tricky thing for me, the allocation of brain power. There's just so much happening at the station and while I love it, love the grind and handling things that seem like they should be worlds above my abilities, love the triumphs I have even when no one knows about them, but for something so inactive compared to all the other jobs I've had/still have it really takes a lot out of me. One major issue is that one of the Directors straight up isn't doing her job. Things that she's taken two months to not get done take me two hours to do, which those of you who know me well understand is one of my biggest froth-inducers; I really haven't the patience for people who both don't do and refuse to admit it, thus allowing others to help get necessities done. If you can't do something, fine, we all have our limits, but to just refuse to do anything that would get the job done? Oh no thank you. Hurl a shoe at your head? Why thank you, that'd be lovely. Can you tell I don't do well with willfully useless people? It's tiring and one of the few things I find genuinely trying.

Anyway, even with babysitting down to the occasional, I'm still working around 50 hours a week for WIDR (only paid for 20) and when I've got a film weekend I add another 25-34 hours to the week. Plus I'm still reading at least one fiction and one non-fiction book a week, and making sure that I take the time to lay down and listen to a new album at some point before Sunday comes around again. Hmm... It didn't seem like all that much when I was thinking about it, but danged if seeing it written out like that doesn't make it seem a wee bit excessive, especially since I'm back up to a reasonable - though far from ideal - amount of workout time, around 4 hours a week for cardio and 2-3 for weight stuff, but the weights are just for toning and mostly at home, so I can double up on other stuff while I'm doing it. That...even for me, that's a lot. Oh duh! And of course I forgot about the two classes I've got this semester, both of which should be breezes, but due to the agonizingly slow pace of the on-campus class and the impressively off-base comment streams in the online one...well, again, my brain tries to escape through my nose most of the time and I can only soothe it back into place by watching episodes of "Sports Night" in my head. As satisfying as most of what I do is, there are just voids I can't fill on my own.

Obviously I've given it a lot of thought, but it still seems odd to say: I'm pretty sure that all I need is one good relationship, either in person or through correspondence, to satisfy the majority of my social needs. Yes, yes, I know, I'm an incredibly social person and I talk to people all the time, am usually well-liked or at least respected and tolerated, but I have no intimacy in my life and that's what I crave. There's no doubt that I'm strong, one tough cookie, etc., but my squishy parts need attention too, replenishing so I can go back out there everyday and keep doing everything I need to do, often things that other people need me to do. There are no feelings of guilt or shame about having or needing to have moments of weakness, at least not for me, as I know I need to have them to function, not just at optimal capacity, but at all. It's just been years since I was in a position where I could be, where I could completely let go and relax, if only for an hour. That doesn't happen these days, because there's no one I can count on to actually take care of things when they say they will. While it is a trust issue, it's not something I fault anyone for. I am my mother's daughter and I'm still acclimating to the reality that plain speaking and knowing limits are not things most people have as a part of their self concepts, which often makes communication dicey. I get hurt a lot because I say exactly what I mean and need, and the other party assumes I mean something else, even when I say that's not the case. You see the problem? There has to someone out there who, like me, would like to get back some of what goes out day in and day out. Ah well, it's on the stack of dreams that actually stand a chance of happening, like my dream house with floor-to-ceiling custom shelving to house my books, movies, and music, all arranged according to ALA standards. Mmmm...

Of course, even in my foulest moods, any traces of cynicism melt away quickly. Even when things are going wrong, I can't help but be happy about the things that are going right, and inevitably a nearby child will do something amusing, thrusting me back into a good mood. How can I be annoyed at time wasted when it was done with good intent? If nothing else, I'll remember Adeline snarking at hipsters or walking around the block with the twins riding on my feet and I can't help but smile. It does keep a body going, you know?

I like being on the radio. Music is always such a point of connection and, whether both parties acknowledge it or not, an intimate one. That was apropos of nothing more than having a week filled with air time, due to people not showing up and me deciding to go spin for a couple of hours, and lots of subbing. Now that I count it up, I think I did nine hours this week, four of which were specialty shows. Oh! I did the funk show tonight and had such a blast. All the calls were positive and I got to play some damn fun cuts, including a woman I only recently found out about, Oby Onyioha. Apparently she's huge in some parts of the world, but I've had no luck finding anything around here/in my price range.

No matter what happens, I can always console myself with the fact that I finally have an album of The Stooges' music being covered by a band with a tuba. I'm not kidding. It's surprisingly good and it makes me a very happy camper.

I do need to go to bed! However did you know?

As I so often do when faced with odd, non-tingly sensations, I have ensconced myself in "The West Wing." I'm having a late dinner and delightedly waiting for CJ to balance that egg. She has so many moments that I find, I don't know, warm. Whatever it is, it makes me feel like less of a freak when she has them, so their frequency pleases me.

Tomorrow, for the first time in many years, I have a first day of school. Thinking about Adeline going back I turn into Nemo, but me? Since it's not the start of my grad program yet it's all very, "Well, that's something I'll have to work into my schedule." WIDR is still may main focus, though I obviously don't know how long that will last, as I have other, non-integrated responsibilities forthcoming. This is where my age and experience are most likely to get me into trouble. As we've all seen time after time, if I try to stay quiet when discussions are happening, the eventually knowledge bursts forth in an articulate rage that leaves most young people within hearing range without eyebrows and most surprised, because they didn't know how mind-numbingly stupid their statement actually was. Sometimes they catch on fire, which amuses me until I start feeling guilty about being so harsh. Kids I have near endless patience with, but 20 year-olds? That takes more, for some reason, but I'm working on it.

In any case, it's a very odd sensation to know that tomorrow, after I do calls and e-mails, I'll be toddling across campus for something educational, for me. It's a little unnerving being on equal footing with non-equals. Wow, that sounds about as douchey as douchey can be out loud, but I'm sure you know what I mean. The dearth between me and the average undergraduate is pretty substantial, through the natural order of things, no faults on any side. Blargh! I'm still sick of being the odd one out. At least when I'm in charge of something that's normal. I guess I just want to play in the majors for once, you know?

I think I'll go back to Toby and the gang, figure out what I'm going to wear tomorrow, and read for a bit before zonking out.

This evening shall be spent dancing around my room and listening to The Clash too loudly on headphones. I need it.

One of my biggest struggles when in almost any leadership position is the fact that I'm capable and have a lot of experience, which means that even if I don't start out knowing what I'm doing, it takes me very little time to acquire the knowledge I need to get whatever need doing done. It's in my nature. I don't like wasting time when it's not with purpose and over the years I've learned that there is a tremendous gulf between what is meant when I say I can take care of something and someone else says it. Not everyone, of course, but the majority of people with whom I have regular dealings. This often leads to me and/or the projects in which I'm involved getting convoluted in ways that were so clearly avoidable. That drives me absolutely nuts.

As I was soundly warned, this is happening with WIDR. I don't say any of this to knock anyone, though I am annoyed with certain actions, it's just a fact of life that I need to learn how to deal with. Normally I'd say that people can learn, but if they don't care enough to recognize the problem or want to learn, well then I'm screwed, but as the one responsible for the rodeo, I can't simply say "Nerts to you lot, I'm off to fix things. Play with this ball of string while I'm away." It wouldn't actually fix the overarching problem and I have little patience for treating only symptoms. None of this would be nearly as aggravating if I had anyone to talk to about it, or rather if I had someone to talk to who would understand, empathize, and then offer guidance. For years now, I've known that in terms of my development across a wide swath of areas, I've grown to the limits of what I can do on my own. Yes, I can and do read a ton and occasionally I find something that's useful, whether through providing new tools or just helping me understand myself a bit better, but compared to what I need? Pfft, not even close.

And then I have to remember how young and relatively sheltered some of these kids are. Sure, I'm still so frustrated I could punch a horse, but so much of it is plain, old fashioned ignorance in people who's worlds are so very small. I'm old, but I have a hard time remembering that sometimes. Even though I'm poorly traveled, I've been told I have a surprising amount of awareness about certain things. Some of these people have never even supported themselves in a non-college squat style life. So ever on I must endure, until the next generation gets trained up right.

I've also decided that I want to train in Brazilian (Gracie) Jiu-Jitsu. That may seem like an abrupt transition, but it hit me today when I was fuming in my office. Like a flash, the image and sensation of being on the mat, mid-grapple, was in my brain and the most intense sensation of relief washed over me. The purpose, discipline, all the stuff that people who don't get it scoff at. Being able to punch someone in the face or to get tapped out, then get up and be fine with each other...that is the stuff. It's a purity that is astoundingly hard to find these days. Jungle law, if I feel like Kipling. I've wanted to get into martial arts as an adult for years, but things I was interested just weren't available here, at least not anywhere I could get recommendations for, and the usual time/money combo was problematic. But man, today was visceral. This idea? This is doable and I get the feeling it's the right time for me. It was the whoosh that I get when something already seems to be decided and I'm just being informed, like going to Western and changing grad school to Public Administration with an emphasis in nonprofit (something I know I've not mentioned, but will soon). I will find a way to do this.

A good deal of it is my naturally submissive nature, which I know is almost an absurd statement for me to make to those of you who know me. Many non-submissive adverbs are frequently used to describe me, but I don't mean it in a weak way. I long for mentorship. I ache for the chance to turn myself over to a wiser person who will help shape me into a better version of myself, the stuff I simply can't do on my own. I've literally never had that, yet wanted it my whole life. The handful of people I've thought of as mentors proved to be nothing of the sort when I need actual help with something. I want, nay, need to be pushed and by someone who knows what they're doing. Who can be satisfied submitting to someone who isn't a match or their better?

Knowing what I was looking for I knew I couldn't just go to the YMCA and sign up for the housewives and co-eds self defense class and have it be even remotely suitable. But as suspected, I'm covered. There is a Gracie family affiliated club in Kalamazoo. How did I find it. Googles 'Kalamazoo jujitsu." I didn't even have to spell it right. These folks embody everything that is good about the sport, so to be trained by people who've been trained by the Gracies, well now, that's the real deal. I have a place to go. Of course I've no clue about prices or schedules, etc., so that will all have to be sorted out, but in the next three months I'd like to be enrolled. Yes, yes, grad school and all, but this will fulfill a need that has long gone untended. I will finally get to relax.

This is ridiculous. I'm a grown ass woman. I should not be thinking about bed at 9:30. I'm not getting into bed or anything, but I'm already thinking about what book I want to read and what I want to listen to. Prime of life, my eye. Yes, I have a lot on my plate, but sleep should not be this appealing.

One of the nicest things about WIDR being out on campus is that we get the chance to snare the kids who will, in all likelihood, need us. I know so many people who would've left Western or straight up dropped out were it not for their love of WIDR.

I spent most of this afternoon sitting in the middle of a field on campus, DJing for Fall Welcome, which means that anyone moving into The Valleys between one and five heard at least a little bit of what the station and my personal music collection have to offer. For most people it didn't matter, but there were a few people that I talked to for whom the possibility of being a part of WIDR excited them. That means a lot to me. But more than that, I like knowing that somewhere in that mass of humanity there was a kid who felt completely out of place in this time of great adventure. Maybe a girl, maybe a guy, but someone who never feels as though they have a place to fit. Then, reverberating across the pond and bouncing off the out-dated facades of their dorm, they heard Iggy, they heard The Ramones, they heard Hedwig and Neko and Tally Hall and all these familiar voices that always feel like home. Suddenly they don't feel so alone any more, some of the pressure lifts, and after some investigation, they find themselves on our doorstep.

That's something I've longed for my entire life and I moves me that WIDR has been and can be that for people, in years that while broadening, can so often leave deep wounds. Being part of the salve means a lot. Yes, yes, I know I turn into a complete mushball about these things, but little things can make such monumental differences in a life

Aside from that satisfaction, I got to spend four hours outside on a stunning day, playing music I love, and meeting new people that don't annoy me. That is a win in my book. The only downside is that I keep forgetting I don't have long hair anymore and thus cannot forgo sunscreen on the part of my back exposed in the dress I wore. I...I am a bit red in a narrow V.

How funny to be back here after such a prolonged absence. Granted, I know full well that I've gone far longer than 4.5 months without updating before, but those times were mostly because I just didn't want to put what was in my head to paper. This time, well, I suppose it's partially that to some extent, though the majority of my lack of will to write has been the fact that WIDR genuinely takes up a tremendous amount of my time and energy. Most days when I come home I *need* to shut my brain down for a while, not only to allow the events of the days and those yet to come to fully process, but also so I get the opportunity to disengage. I've found over my relatively many years that in order to be of use to anyone I have to do that. I could try to boss my brain around, but we all know that doesn't work for me. It's why I wore headphones all day at school my Sophomore year: sometimes I just need to distract a part of me. I'm okay with that.

In years past I've often found myself thinking about the narcissism inherent in the kind of writing I do here, not because I find journaling especially vain or unfulfilling - I love and relate to Anias Nin in ways I've never done with a female writer - but because the things happening in my life seemed so pointlessly microcosmic. As proud as I was of all the good stuff I did for and with the kids, they still weren't mine and it started to feel odd taking so much pride in a legacy so obviously fragile. That probably boils down to even more narcissism, but what're you gonna do? It's good to write and, as someone recently pointed out to me, once an artist always an artist. Granted, I haven't done anything since 2009 that I would even remotely consider art, but this is an important discipline. As of late, I've felt far more like a craftsman than an artist, however I've had some pretty bitchin' works as a craftsman, so I can't complain too much.

My ultimate goal, at least as I'm sitting here writing this, to twofold: consistency and truth. Now I don't mean Truth or anything particularly high minded like that, I just want to have a record of who and where I am as I go along. I'm finally in a place, with WIDR and I suppose school too, where I feel like I'm actually accomplishing things that matter, albeit on a very small scale. That's often how big things start though, and for that I'm grateful. There are, of course, a tremendous amount of difficulties, whether it's getting the station in line with the university so we can fully utilize their resources and not die or trying to keep the more dominating aspects of my personality from keeping others from realizing their potential, but I am good at this, at least that's what people tell me and what I feel during the times I don't feel like an utter fool. Yes, those remain myriad, but there's a better counter balance than there used to be; there are places and people with whom I'm rather sincerely liked. It's all very casual, of course, but it's still nice to be able to be myself and have it be well received on occasion. It's enough to get me through.

A great deal of this resurgence has to be credited to Henry Rollins. Get In The Van has for many years been one of my security blanket books. I may explain why at some point, but not just now I think. I'd never read or seen anything else of of his, though I've been a fan of Black Flag and Rollins Band for many years and seen him in plenty of film/television. Once I did, well that was quite an experience. I watched all his spoken word DVDs and listened to a good half of his spoken word albums - you know how I get; once I know enough to know I don't know anything I have to follow the trail until I'm sated with knowledge - but when I started "A Preferred Blur" it hit me like a Mac truck. I've never had an experience of seeing myself so clearly on the page before: it was intense. This isn't a creepy, stalkery, fan girl thing, though he is a man with whom one would not forgo makeouts were they offered, it was just that the first chapter of that book? I could've written it. Put that next to a sample of my writing and there are a startling amount of similarities. It gave that odd sensation of, "Wow, someone I admire greatly and I are of a similar caliber, at least on this one thing." It was the jolt I needed. So 'ere I be. Plus he may also be helping me get things evened out at WIDR, but that's a whole different matter and not yet ready to be discussed.

So regardless of how burned out or discouraged I am, or how insignificant I find the actions I take with a higher purpose, I'm going to make sure that I write here every day. It must needs be done, simple as that.

Also worth noting is that in a moment of musical exploration in the vinyl library I realized that my awesome babysitter from Flushing, the one who gave me a huge box of records to take with me when I moved away, was an even greater bad ass babysitter than I am. Granted, Slip It In is not an album one should ever give a ten year-old, but I'm grateful she gave it to me. It was one among many that hadn't been brought into my adult life with any sort of awareness - the box disappeared in one of the moves, I think my father took it in the divorce with the rest of the albums - but when I played it, Animal Now, and Peepshow I realized that, good heavens, there's a mighty good reason I find so many truly heavy works comforting. Some of the greatest punk bands in creation were the soundtrack to and my escape from an initially cruel new town and the hell of middle school. Now I know why 'Walk Or Run' always makes me misty.

After all these years, and in spite of the plethora of wonderful things that have been happening lately, I still find myself having to deal with the lifetime baggage that can't actually be gotten rid of until something I have no control over happens. I'm lonely, I've said it before, but more and more lately I find the weight of...not being single, exactly...it's hard to verbalize. Ever since high school I've gotten the "I wish I could find someone just like you to go out with" line and had *countless* friends/crushes/exes go on about all the traits their new lady has, traits which I think and have been told I possess. It doesn't matter how happy I am for them, it always crushes me. Can't help it. It's a repeat of what I've heard a thousand times before, but it still brings me to my knees every time. The litany of amazing things I am, but were somehow not good enough for someone...ouch. That's not the reality, of course, and I do know that I'm quite a handful relationship wise - really any wise if you get right down to it - but it doesn't stop me from feeling like a total screw up, a failure for being myself and having something in there make the good things not worthwhile.

I may have a date next week - whether the evening is a date or a business meeting is still kind of to be seen, but general consensus is that it's a date - and I realized that I was super excited to be able to tell people I might have a date, I wasn't all that excited about the date itself. He seems like a nice guy, I don't know him but a spit, but that's not an issue. Sure, part of the deal is the uncertainty of whether or not it is a date and my desire not to get my expectations to a level prone for dashing, but it's mostly because I've given up, pretty much, if I'm being totally honest. Bear in mind, I don't mean that to sound dramatic or like I'm fishing for anything, just that I've mentally shifted to a different mode of thinking.

Simply put, I no longer think of me being with someone as an inevitability. I've gone down the 'giving it a try even though he doesn't seem close to ideal' road and that was worse that nothing at all, as it often is in life. About a year ago I decided to go back to school. Everyone thought it was a great idea, I'd be good teaching at the collegiate level, etc. It didn't come out of some noble purpose or passion for teaching, though it is and I do enjoy it; it all boiled down to the fact that I understood I needed to be able to get a job or jobs that would support me for the rest of my life. I'm almost 30 and the things that I did in my twenties to be ready for a husband and family and wherever that life needed me to go, well those aren't practical, smart, or appealing to anyone anymore. If I stayed like this it'd just be sad. So back I'm going. I've got school, I've got WIDR, and if everything goes well I've got my back. I am planning for a life where it's just me, because all evidence points to that being a smart thing. Ignoring it, acting like circumstances are equal to what they were ten, even five years ago, would be irresponsible.

That being said, it doesn't mean the whole thing doesn't suck eggs, but it's what I've got, so, you know, playing, dealt hand, etc.

After many months of being pretty much cocooned in myself, due to the usual loneliness and lack of outlets, good stuff started happening and it kind of came to what I'm sure will be one of many heads.

I am the new General Manager for WIDR.

The official start date is May 1st, but I've had people coming to me about GM stuff for at least a couple of months now, so a lot of the people stuff won't be a big switch. This is but one of the things that perked me up once more.

So what's been going on that pulled me out of my slump? The whole thing started with a Matt conversation, a deep, good, revealy type which I'd not had in...maybe 6 months, but that seems a conservative estimate. It started out as totally normal and ended up with me crying (in the good way) and telling him about stuff I'd hadn't had anyone to tell in as long as I can remember, which was quite a catharsis. In trying to recount things, I feel like I'm going to miss stuff, because so much happened so quickly, but it should be preserved for posterity.

The next day, I found out that the existing directors had unofficially decided that they wanted me as GM, I was given an interview for the station with the US Trade Representative Ron Kirk - it went very well, but I did *way* more prep work that I needed to - I got back into school, my boss got promoted, so is giving me more responsibilities at work and trying to get me a raise, and got two pairs of amazing shoes that were exactly what I'd been looking for for *months* for less than $15. It was a good way to break a two year crapfest.

I still have to deal with everything by myself and could really use a cuddle, but aside from that, everything's coming up roses and it's long overdue. :) Bed now.

Today was relatively uneventful, however tonight was awesome, as I celebrated the first night of Hanukkah by giving Gabriel his present. It. Was. Awesome.

For the past couple of years I've been holding onto a desk and chair set that belonged to my brother when he was a wee one. We tend to take really good care of our stuff, so when my parents moved, I immediately snagged them, as I thought someday it'd be a good gift for Adeline. It turned out that she's not that much of a desk girl and I don't blame her; she cozies up to the table quite well and can curl up almost anywhere, even upside down, to read a book, and she likes it that way. But it did occur to me that Mister Bun would one day grow to just the right size, so it became his in my mind.

Tonight he got it and while he was merely amused with his new thing, Mom and Dad were incredibly touched and began taking adorable photos immediately. It's a perfect fit and too cute for words. My work here is done, for I am Johanna, doer of good things where kidlets are concerned.

Even I was surprised to pop over to my own part of Live Journal and find that I hadn't updated since early July. I think this is the longest I've ever gone without at least a quick note or two.

A tremendous amount has happened, but most of it can be summed up quickly: new bike, new car, possible new job, new kids, new roommate (one more forthcoming), I went on actual dates (nothing came of them), did the Kal-Haven trail, learned how to shoot (turns out I'm a natural), went on my first hunting trip, perfected my Sloppy Joe recipe, discovered the bliss of "Community," and did a whole bunch of cool stuff that I won't be able to remember unless I stop and think about it.

I do miss writing here, but I've been writing other stuff and feeling slightly anti-online-social, so it'll likely take a spell for me to get back up to speed here.

Oh, and I know how to make soap now, so that's cool. :)

As ever, the perils of summer take their toll on even the most hopeful writers. Between the heat and the insane schedule I've had, the past month has come and gone, chock full of interesting things, without so much as a pop round to say I was alive. So what's happened in the past while?

- Had my first bike accident as an adult because I did something I knew was idiotic as I was doing it. I'll write it up eventually. I skinned up my elbows pretty badly and had massive bruises all over the place, but there wasn't any major damage, I just couldn't ride for a week.

- Spent a crazy amount of time with assorted kids, including the four main girls for a Girls Night out that was even more of a blast than I expected. I had full time work two weeks in a row, which has been rare for me in the summer.

- Went to the Binder Park Zoo for the first time and had a blast, though I did have a few grown-up moments of "Oh that's way too small a habitat for an animal that size, how sad," which did dampen things a tad, but walking for 5.5 hours with a fun kid and seeing all kinds of super cool animals - I got licked by a giraffe - was fantastic.

- Did a few blissful beach days with my parents.

- Hit my groove with the farmers market and have perfect sources for all the fruits, veggies, and meats I like. You should see the lettuces I got yesterday...oh baby, the salad I'm going to make for lunch...

- Discovered that both of my roommates are rather kindred spirits and feel exceptionally cozy now, but with far more brain stimulation. It rocks. :)

- Read everything I needed to to fill my summer reading chart at KPL, which is both impressive and a little scary. There's a debate going on right now as to whether or not I'm allowed to fill out a second one.

- More preserves, baby! I have eight jars of blackberry sitting on the kitchen table waiting for the 24 hours to be up.

- My gym closed unceremoniously and without warning. Sadly, the other FitZone in town has a schedule that is totally unsuitable for me if I want to keep doing yoga, so I'm going to cancel my membership/not transfer it and check out some of the other options in town. I really want to be able to swim in the winter, so the Y is looking like the most promising candidate provided it's decently priced. I know I was spoiled at $32 a month for all I got.

Many other things happened of course, but by not recording them immediately after they happened, I have lost them in great detail. Oh well, I have much more to do today. :)

Oy gavolt.

As I mentioned, Fred and I were not on good terms, entirely owing to the fact that he doesn't listen to me, even when I say things in both plain and explicit terms. He hurt me physically because he didn't listen to what I told him, then - and I only realized this today in telling the story to someone - lied about it. Right before he kissed my forehead/injured me, he said "It's okay, I'm not going to hug you," which means that he either didn't care or it was intentional, but in both cases he was still lying after I got hurt when he said that he'd forgotten. I called him this afternoon - he didn't call or text once in the past four days to see how I was doing, while my ex has IMed three times and Matt's called twice - and pointed out that I knew he'd lied, wondered why he had, pointed out that not being able to spare fifteen seconds on a text message in four days to find out how I was couldn't be taken as anything but bad, and let him know that the ball was firmly in his court, especially since one of the points of contention the past couple of months has been how I'm always there for him and he's rarely there for me, and when he is it's deeply half assed, like when he left me waiting at work for two hours after my car had been towed when he lived ten, maybe fifteen minutes away.

About ten minutes later he texted and asked if I was at home (I was at work), then asked how I was. I told him, then he was quiet for a long time, but eventually I said a few things that needed to be said (very gently and using intentionally neutral language, as I wasn't going for a kill shot). It was during this time I'm fairly certain he was planting two cards and a bouquet of flowers on my desk chair. (I basically haven't been home for three days, so things are a total disaster and now I'm embarrassed he was here at all.) I saw it all as soon as I walked in, because even in the dark I knew I hadn't left anything on my chair, and read them both. Again, oy...

The gesture is nice on the surface: cards and flowers are supposed to start making things right in many case, but again, he didn't listen and thus didn't get it. Also, the cards were kind of insulting. I know he didn't mean them that way, but if you know me, and most of you reading this do, and you read the following, wouldn't you think them wholly unsuited for me and for the situation? (Keep in mind, both cards are very pink and this is the text that came on them) Card 1 - "What you don't need is one more person telling you everything is going to be okay, that all you really need to feel better is new shoes, more chocolate, or a bubble bath. You and I are smart enough to know that sometimes there are no quick fixes and things like this just happen...I'm here for you, if ever, whenever, and however you need me." Uh, no, you're not, that was one of the major things we've been butting heads over. I can't count on you for even the smallest thing. I just reread one of the things he wrote one this one and I'm pissed again. "I KNOW you'll get through this." Excuse me? I'll get through this?!? It takes two to tango, Huckleberry, and it's not like I'm struggling through one of life's inevitable challenges; someone I thought was a friend has treated me like crap because (all of these are true) he didn't feel like thinking of someone else, did something he knew was wrong and didn't want me know about it because then he'd feel bad, and he's putting all of his energy into other people who treated him badly after seeking my advice about it. I'm just going to write the other card's printed text out without comment. This is too long already and the card itself is a big enough pile without adding what he wrote to it. Card 2 - "No matter how crazy my life gets, I know you'll be there, and when it's your turn to lose it...you can count on me. We're so screwed if it happens at the same time." Uh huh...

I'm the girl, damnit! If there's any ambiguity, blame shifting, or responsibility avoidance present, societal norms and stereotypes place it firmly in my territory, not his. So this all has the added effect of making me feel more masculine, which you all know I hate. I say exactly what's on my mind in terms so plain and simple as to command...well, you know the rest, but still. I feel bad that...no, I don't anymore. Not now that I've had time to process. I've been home since midnight and I've had plenty of time to think. All I wanted - all - was for him to acknowledge that he'd screwed up and apologize. That's it. That's how things are made right and you get to move forward. Instead I get sound and fury signifying a weak will and deep selfishness that isn't recognized under the layers of false altruism.

As I was writing this, I popped onto Facebook for a moment and saw what he updated six hours ago, clearly about me, and it genuinely pissed me off:

"Where's that smile at?
Where'd you take it too?
I never thought that any thing could hurt you.
Tell me everything you're going through.

...Don't forgot yourself child.
You're the only thing that can pull it through.
We are helpless without you.

- Ben Kweller (Hurtin' You)

Time to go try. That's all I feel I can do right now. Sorry Yoda."

I try to keep the blue language to a minimum here, but are you fucking kidding me? Fuck you! You can post whiny lyrics and a self-pity filled semi apology on Facebook, but you can't man up and say you're sorry to my face? To my phone via text? Grow a spine! You give me cards that are pretty much focused on you, but in that way that so many cards are, but no one ever notices because they're - wonder of wonder - thinking about themselves as they read the card and not who gave it to them, but you never, at any point, acknowledge that the problem is with both of us, let alone apologized for physically damaging me or taking advantage of my friendship, as you've said you've done many times before. You say tell you everything I'm going through? At the tiniest hint of me having a problem, he throws up the wall and completely detaches emotionally. It's like talking to a bot that just barely shows its AI. You know things can hurt me because you've seen it and I've told you about it. How is my pain a surprise? Don't forget yourself? I have to put myself to the side to be objective for you when you have a problem, because that's how you get a good perspective. And the whole we're helpless thing makes me sick. I hate, in the same way Captain Hook hates Peter Pan, when weakness is clung to and I'm blamed for it. Trying to be weak always infuriates me, but when I'm being called the source? Bite me hard.

I'm just too mad now. It's all frustration and hurt, but it's pretty seething with incredulity now. I doubt I'm even making sense. I'd hoped that writing this out would help, calm me down a bit, but it hasn't and I don't want to take up any more space on this ridiculousness. If I had more friends around here I doubt I'd be so irked, but it is what it is and I can only handle so much diametrically opposed to what I specifically asked for interactions before I can no longer justify the association.

I am too awesome to have to deal with this much bullshit. I say that as a sober judgment and without hyperbole. The problem is that my ginormous heart is part of that awesomeness. Balls.

On the upside, Pandora has an uncanny knack for knowing what I need, so there's been plenty of Phoenix, Starling Electric, and Bloc Party, and that's a whole lot I find soothing regardless of circumstances. It even gave me some goodies from The Pixies. Pandora listens to what I say I like and need, and Pandora gets it right. Well done and thank you. :)

I keep meaning to sit down and write here, about the lack of birthday disasters, my first bike accident as an adult, and all the other stuff that's been going down, but I have a lot of books and a lot of video stuff that distracts me. The fact that sitting at the computer for a long time isn't the most comfortable thing right now - Fred drastically worsened what was a minor and well-healing injury from my bike thing - hasn't made it more likely.

Part of this placeholder of an entry is to remind myself to take the scant time I have this Saturday to do a proper write up about the idiocy that lead me to my semi-enfeebled state. It's a good story and I have pictures.

Of course, I also have pics of Gabriel and Adeline, whose growth into positively stunning children would shock even the most jaded of you.

Tomorrow I'm working pretty much straight on from 8am to midnight, and I've just remembered that I've got to pack both lunch and dinner tonight. Right now in fact. Gah! Interesting things are happening but they're happening too fast to write about in the time allotted!

Last night I had the strangest dream, which is the line that starts a song about the Powerpuff Girls, and because of that it's doubly relevant to this particular entry.

I was in a house that was clearly an amalgam of all the houses I've ever lived in and I was babysitting a kid who was supposed to be Adeline, but based on age, multiple levels of cuteness, and syntax was a mix of both her and Gabriel. When I came in she was watching a cartoon on our local Fox affiliate Fox 17 out of Grand Rapids, which will be important later. She needed to change out of her PJ's, so I set about to finding an outfit for her, so I wasn't paying too much attention to what was on the screen, for if mom had turned it on at 8 am, I figured it was okay. What was on when I turned around was horrific, and I say that without hyperbole: commercials with extreme sexual content and violence, including a trailer for a movie based on a Japanese video game about a government program to split up the awesome power of a quartet of absurdly large-breasted women in underwater fortress. Things were happening that I find repulsive even as an adult, but which enraged me to see a child being exposed to.

Of course I turned it off and Adeline got annoyed that I'd done so, but I explained to her how bad those things were for her, a smart, funny, loving, wacky, amazing girl who was going to grow up and be a a smart, funny, loving, wacky, amazing woman, and how those kinds of things had the power to damage how she saw herself. Luckily she understood, but I got to thinking about what could actually be done to fix this monumental problem in a lasting way, something that couldn't be spun as a busybody who had a problem with free speech. Complaining to the FCC would, at best, only result in fines and many groups I actually support having to take stances against me. We we walking out the door and it hit me that everything I was thinking of doing was too small, wouldn't make the statement I wanted on a national level, but I knew what would; I was going to sure the station and it's parent company for the time slot they had so thoroughly abused.

It seemed, in the dream at least, the perfect idea. So I called Matt and he pointed me toward the right lawyers and the right PR firm, and pretty soon the story of a babysitter from Michigan suing a Fox affiliate for obscenity and demanding not money, but the air time, resources, and funding for her own children's show was a hot story on every station and in every newspaper. I had not only parents groups, but also media watchdog groups, civil liberties groups, and a hundred other organizations backing me up. Major corporations were even coming out and promising advertising dollars once I was on the air.

In the end, I got my show and it was awesome. Everything was so vivid, to the point that I could run a PR campaign for this sort of thing in real life. I can't remember the last time I had such an intense dream experience about something that seemed so plausible, minus the graphic sex and nudity on a broadcast station, but still. It was something else.

I have many other things to record, including my biggest moment of idiocy to date, but this seemed important somehow, so here it is.

First and foremost, I'm exceptionally pleased that when I woke up at 7 I both looked outside and checked Wunderground, as if I had proceeded with my original plans to ride out to Markin Glen for a morning of swimming and more riding, I would've ended up huddled in one of the pavilions with thirty other people who'd gotten caught in the thunder, extensive lightning, and sporadic, but massive downpours. Since I did not, I was able to relax completely and enjoy the storm. I read a book I'd been meaning to get to, I watched a ton of The West Wing while chipping away at my mending pile, and I roast beets for the first time ever, an act I plan on repeating frequently in a variety of ways.

Now, for the fun stuff that's happened in the past week, the most notable of which was Adeline's Spring Sing, which was even more awesome than her winter concert (you may remember it from here). She was so cute and ten kinds of squirrely up on that stage. She and another kid I'd not yet met were horsing around a bit and even got shushed by the teacher a couple of times, but it was so dang funny that none of us thought worse of her for it. And Heavy Metal Kid (as Ike and I have taken to calling him) was there in all his off-pitch glory. I'm a little sad though, because he was wearing a bug costume, indicating his status as a departing third grader. We all had a blast and both Ike and Adeline complimented me on my dress. It's a floor length maxi dress with a print reminiscent of fireworks and that night was the first chance I'd had to wear it. Mel and I also snickered again about the "sister-wife" thing, but out of earshot of Ike, for fear that others would hear and think it serious, which would be funny to, but in a far more worrisome way.

It was a good week all around with the kids, now that I think of it. I was with Oliver five days and one included our first ever pick up from school. That whole day was absolutely incredible. I picked him up all red-faced from playground antics and got to see his room, locker, etc., which I always get a kick out of. He'd had a good day and was feelin' fine. I got dinner started as soon as we got him and I'd brought in my Space Ghost CDs at Oliver's request, so we just hung out in the kitchen talking and listening to the craziness while the pasta cooked. He had two bowls of pasta with cheese, but no sauce, which I okayed because he had an orange beforehand. Normally, I'm all about fruit-pretending-to-be-vegetables as an important part of this balanced dinner, but these were special circumstances. This might seen like a big deal time-wise with any kid, but Oliver is notorious for being constantly on the move, especially when his parents are around. It felt like quite an accomplishment on both our parts.

After dinner, he spent about 45 minutes(!) intently working on this awesome picture he had to draw for sharing time at school the next day. Again, drawing, talking, laughing at Space Ghost. It was mellow and a lot of fun. And he is a pretty good speller! He was spot on for 85% of the letters in his sentence and those were not the most intuitive words ever. He was focused, calm, and wholly content. I was immensely pleased and more than a little bit surprised. Once the homework was done, we went out and did some massive and, I must say, totally awesome chalk drawings. That was such a hoot! He often says/whines that he does know what he wants to do, so I suggested doing body outlines. He'd never heard of that. I couldn't believe he'd made it to five without ever having a body outline done. He was mighty pleased with the decorative possibilities of those puppies. He turned his outline into a gingerbread man, then we made it a house with some of the most intricate decorations I've even seen. I even made a pretty sweet gumdrop tree to go with it.

We had about 20 minutes before getting ready for bed time when the drawings were done, so he got out his trike and we went for a walk around the block. I think I liked that best; it was a really relaxed walk with lots of quiet patches and "Oh, those are cool flowers" and "That's the mayor's house." It was really nice. :) Mellow really was the word du jour and I'd never seen him like that, never seen evidence that he could be like that while engaged. Awesome stuff.

In a total contradiction to most of what I'd seen and heard, he was very expedient about all the bedtime stuff, but alas, he kept feeling like there were things missing that he needed to fall asleep. He did nail down having his back rubbed after a while and that helped, but there was still something that he couldn't remember. Eventually he remembered what it was, but said it was a family thing, which is totally understandable. I sat up on the top step for a while so he could relax, but still know I was there, without me being an in room distraction. He eventually fell asleep, but he woke promptly again when his dad got home, but all told, I am calling that night a huge win and testament to my child care ass kickery.

When I e-mailed his mom and recounted the day she sent this back, which was a huge bit of validation: "He told me yesterday morning that he was so excited for after-school. I said, “Do you mean French class? Or playing with your friends? Or Johanna?” and he said, “Johanna! I like her better than school!”" Seriously, whoever ends up as my husband is going to have a head start on so much stuff.

There was also an evening with Gabriel, which as expected proved an utter joy. As soon as I walked up to the door a boisterous bellow of "JO!!!" issued forth and there he was, waiting for me with his little face and giant cheeks just behind the glass, smile wider than his head. So many wonderful things happened in the scant hour he was awake, but even at the door, I was blown away. As soon as I came in he ran up to be and declared "I Mister Bun!" Could you melt or what? Yes, precious boy, you are Mister Bun. :) He's is just the best kid and I could go on about him for hours, but all it would be is proof that if you treat kids the right way, though a little more in the effort department early on, you get an amazing amount out of it and they learn to be empowered from day one. I love that. I also love that he calls "I love you!" just before I close the door for bed, requiring me to pop my head back in to say "I love you too" and get that smile of his.

Kid stuff aside, I got to do four hours on the air Friday, which ended up with unexpected Curtis Blow, I got a good deal of money stuff mostly sussed, which lowers my stress considerably, and learned that if I ask the guy at the Markin Glen gatehouse to take down my name and yearly pass number I can enter the park on foot or bike any time I want, which I did right then and there.I think I just found my extra 3 miles.

So yeah, it's been a good week. :p I'm a little annoyed at Fred, which is nothing new, but if things go well he'll be in a state of mind that would allow me to actually address why. However, at the moment, I'm having a grand time of things on my own and with the kids, so I'm not feeling overly lacking in the social department, so it's not especially pressing. Tomorrow I shall bike and I shall beach.

It is a very good thing that I have no interest in "Lost," as there is no earthly way I would've been able to watch the finale last night. Why, you may well ask? Because I had an anomalous work day that lasted from 8am to 12:30am. I babysat from 8-1, had time to run home and make a sandwich, then worked from 1:30-10:30, at which point I got a text asking if I could come back to babysit for a couple of hours, because one parent was out of town and the other needed to pick up some prescriptions, so I did.

Whooooooo doggie! That was a long, long day at the end of an very long, very frustrating weekend. There was a problem with the film itself, which meant a lot of stress and a lot of wanting to find whoever had the film before us with the express purpose of battering him about the face with a trout for not doing his job right. We haven't had a disaster weekend in a long time, so this was definitely it. But even with the disaster, I did he best I could and I think it would've been the best anybody could've under the circumstances. None of the shows had to be canceled and all three of the Sunday shows went flawlessly, so that's quite a lot to be pleased about.

Adeline did come and hang out with me on Saturday, so that was lots of fun and a much needed mental break. Nothing like a consistent flaw in a film to make you jumpy and paranoid. Today I'm going to take it easy until school gets out, at which point I'm once more whisked into a flurry of kid-related activity that will only end after the books have been read and the lights turned out.

And now, I'm going to see about sussing out an omelette or something. A living legend needs eggs.

This has been a week of relative pulchritude. In addition to adding several days of babysitting and scoring the third day at work this weekend, I've also been able to explore a lot more places in and out of town to ride my bike. Since I've suspended my gym membership for the summer - I miss the yoga already, as doing at home is just not the same, even if the music's better - I've wholly devoted myself to riding as a conveyance at least equal to my car, if not above it, and my main workout. Walking is nice, but it's impractical when combining the two purposes.

Sunday morning I was with Oliver as usual and since I'd recently clocked how long it took to get there on two wheels, deciding that is was a perfectly reasonable amount of time not to be missed when not used on sleep, I rode over that day and we were able to go for a long ride, which was extra fun because he was on his trike, perhaps the coolest trike ever made, as it has fat ol' tires and can go off-road. After I was finished with him, I decided to follow the Kalamazoo River Valley Trail in the opposite direction I'd been, toward the head of the Kal-Haven Trail. What a treat! The whole thing is paved, there's a perfect mix of sunny, open road and curvy, shaded bits, the hills are reasonable without being fluff, and I get to ride by a cow farm! I don't think a better place could've been custom ordered for me.

When I went to day I thought to look at the map when I got to Kal-Haven and realized that if I pick up the trail by Oliver's house, take to the trail head and back, then go the other way to Mosel where it ends in that direction, it's about 15 miles, which is almost perfect with the 2 miles to and from my house. I just need to find a place to squeeze in 3 more miles and I'll have the perfect daily ride.

This morning I was also pleased to learn that a) I still have my padded bike shorts, b) they still fit wonderfully, and c) I look damn good in them. They're a little shorter than what I rode in today, which will be good when I'm trying to get some sun on my legs, but today I was all about the upper body, so these would've been excessive, but soon. ;) After all, I've got gams.

Oh! And once I got back to my neighborhood, I got "Heeeeeeeeey"-ed by a bald, gap-toothed guy riding a too-small BMX bike and drinking a forty at quarter to five on a Thursday. I think it was the eye contact and tank top that made such a good impression. :p

I feel, foolhardy though it may prove, that I could easily do another ten miles right now. I like that feeling. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I'm a bicycle warrior or anything. I mean, I still won't bike but the hill in Wheaton St., because that monstrosity hurts when I'm walking, but I like the state I'm in after 17 non-cake walk miles.

Further awesomeness has been had in spite of being up before dawn three days this week to get assorted kids off to school. They're so peppy and fun though, at least the twins are, that you forget how much you don't want to be awake pretty quickly. Those two also begged to have me drive them to school the second day, which is so sweet, goofy, and fun. I adore those wacky things, I really do. But their fun aside, last night Dave and I had a little impromptu BBQ and a couple of his friends came over for it. Ty wasn't here, so that was a bummer, but it's the first real roommate BBQ that's happened in years and we had fun. It's great having social folks around again. :)

Fred has annoyed me immensely in the last half hour, but he has a lot to learn about scheduling and I'm not overly surprised that his forgetfulness has mucked up my evening. But what're you gonna do? Live and learn, with any luck.

And now, bathing! Woooooo!