a bit stuck

I can't catch up, but have been away. Away in my head that is.

A few things.

Last week I went on a field trip w/D's class to Green Meadows Farm in Queens. Quite the experience, and one that involved hundreds of shrieking K/1/2nd graders in the same few acres. I needed a drink. I didn't get one. Some more pics are here.

The marathon is barely 10 days away. I'm as ready as I can be, not nervous, reasonably realistic, and mostly looking forward to it. A brief update, and pic of my snazzy jersey, is here.

That post doesn't mention that 3 of my toenails are falling off as a result of training, probably because the last pair of shoes I had had inserts that wouldn't stay put. I should have figured out the super-gluing trick a lot sooner (for the inserts, not the toes ... tho that is a thought!)

The show I was at? The one with all that preparation, agony, nerves, and expense? It sucked. No other way to really put it. The promised traffic was not only not there, there was practically none. really. I think it's generous to say 400 people showed up all day, and 15,000 were promised. The 200+ vendors there were not happy, to say the least. The redeeming feature was spending time with my sister, friend K, and cousin. Three of my favorite women. That part was wonderful. The rest, not so much. Anyone need 500 copies of 101 Ways to Stay Sane in an Economic Crisis? Just holler.

I'm addicted to the computer, not that you can tell from my posting schedule. I'm using it as an escape way too often. I need to spend more time on real relationships, and less on lurking.

The new subletter is good, cheerful, and nice to have around. Not so much though. Around that is ... he works from home, and while I knew this, I guess it didn't really sink in that he'd be here almost all the time. We're getting settled into routines about leaving doors shut during the day and all that, but I do miss my privacy. It's hard to have to remember to be fully dressed at all times ... sigh.

I watched Who Does She Think She Is? earlier this week, and can only say that I think all moms with creative itches of any kind should watch the movie if at all possible. It's supposed to open in other cities in the coming months, and be available on DVD. I wrote about it here. I was in tears many times.

That movie made me re-realize something I've know for years but seem to still have trouble dealing with. I've always considered myself artistic, but not an artist per se. I have a fine art degree mind you, and did my share of painting, drawing, and sculpting, and loved it. I don't have a burning need to paint or explode, like M does, but I do have a burning need to create things, mostly with my hands. That need has been stifled for years for the most part. At various times it's been fufilled by house renovations, stone deck building, book making, scrapbooking of sorts, sewing, painting rooms, building furniture, cooking for a crowd, designing books, logos, websites, and many other things. The electronic work has taken precedence over the more tangible stuff as space is limited, and we've been renting for the last 8 years, and ... the big and ... because I felt intimidated by my husband's abilities in all those areas and so pulled back. He's an incredibly talented artist, and I somehow get lost in some crazy competitive landscape where I feel like my creations are inferior in some way, so I don't try so much. I need to get over that stupid notion, and spend more time creating and less time staring at a screen.

I miss having a house where people dropped by all the time. I have a couple, well one really, friend who drops by often and spontaneously, but that's it. Otherwise, in this busy city, we stay busy and don't socialize enough. It takes effort to get around, and sure kids are a slowdown, but there are many we could have contact with that we don't. That has to change before we move. That means I have to change, and not be so busy. I'm less so now than I was awhile ago, and am better at keeping things slowed down, but I have miles to go. I still crave the slowness of the summer.

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