Of Cords – Extension and Umbilical

My current status …

I’ve been pretty, um, I want to say ’emotional’ but, truth be told I’ve been a completely withdrawn, passive aggressive bitch.  Not just to my son.

It’s as if I want people not to like me so that it will be easy to wean myself off of them.

There’s four pretty significant things getting me down lately – but I’ll just speak on this one.

How to drive home January 6th 2017, not see my son’s car outside of our home and not completely shatter.

Let me clarify again, I am very happy for him.  I am very proud that he’s leaping headfirst into the world.  I am terrified of his 27 hour trek across the States however.

And fuck!  I’m going to miss my kid!!!!!!!

He is the only person I know or have ever met that can make me laugh every single day!  The only person I can be completely myself around and be certain I’ll be loved.

 

Obviously my bitchy depressed mode hasn’t gone unnoticed by him.

Evidenced by, not only my attitude, but the fact that in spite of hosting Thanksgiving this year, I hadn’t one shred of Christmas up.

I’m usually the eager Christmas beaver, wanting to festoon my home as soon as it is socially acceptable.  Not this year.   I had no joy.  No excitement.  I also spent the whole 4 1/2 days, other than Thanksgiving day, in my room.

This past Sunday, after the laundromat, I shrugged back into my pajamas and settled in to continue my very important 4 day activity … being horizontal while attending my Netflix pity party binge.

In walks my son.

Him: Let’s go to Oatman for lunch.   My treat.

Me:  I don’t want to go to Oatman.  I was going to take a nap.

Him: OK, I’m going to get ready, then we’ll go to Oatman.

Me:  Nic … I really don’t want to go anywhere.

Him: OK, we’ll go to the Hualapai’s instead.

Me: No!  That’s too far!

Him: OK, Oatman it is.

 

He left.  And I lay with remote in hand – 3 day old pajamas and a body awash in guilt.

The countdown has begun for the end of this chapter with my favorite person.   And I have been pushing him away instead of making each moment count.

I got up.

Ran a brush through my hair.

Swiped my eyelashes with mascara – colored my pale lips.

Dressed warmly – the gray skies were threatening to water our desert.

And found him.

And off we went.

And the moment we began driving my spirits lifted.  I was already laughing before we reached our highway.

We encountered a burro blockage as we approached our destination.

nic-burro

 

nic-more-burro

 

Burro was not budging.

The closer we came to Oatman, the more the burros.  Here was our escort.

 

We parked and sauntered into the town we’ve spent so much time together.

Stopped in all the old familiar places.  Enjoyed the warmth of an old fireplace as we ate lunch.

And then …

And then it occurred to me this might be the last time we did so together … alone.

My heart ached.

nic-oatman

 

nic-feeding

 

And as if on cue, as my eyes welled, the skies opened – and we walked in the rain.  Unfazed by it.  We have that in common – our love for the rain.

We took our time heading for the car.

Took our time driving.

Stopped.  Enjoyed more time in the rain.

 

nic-and-i

 

I can honestly say the day ranked up there … one of the top 10 days I’ve ever spent with my baby.  My ‘baby’ who has become man enough to understand and to put up with my mood swings.  Man enough to know that I needed that nudge.

I put our small tree up.

I’ve yet to find an extension cord in order to light it, but it’s a significant beginning.

And as for my sweet son and his upcoming departure?  His significant beginning?   I’m learning there’s no need for the cord that once joined us.

He’ll continue to make me laugh – from afar.

He won’t stop loving me nor I him.

It will be a slow process for me – learning how to live in a home he no longer shares with me.

And it will be an exciting and strengthening process for him … learning how to ‘adult’ and not having to share a home with me.

Musings from the laundromat: Quiet & Being Rude edition.

It’s quiet here today.

Too quiet.

The radio isn’t on and no one is chatting.

Even Glaucoma man hasn’t stopped by to say ‘hi’ – he’s busy folding.  He got here a whole lot earlier than me.  I arrived on time.

And now he’s leaving without a goodbye.

It’s funny, because the laundromat opens at 8 a.m. (Although Laundry Lady unlocks the doors much earlier than that).  As she looked up from receipts she was going through she said “Didn’t think you were going to make it.”  Why?

I always do – I just happened to be on time today.

Had a fun night at a work banquet last night.  I got to dance.  I love to dance.  And I spent quality time with one of my best friends out here. And of course, my work family.

It’s still hard for me to be in crowds, so I tend to overcompensate.  Do that nervous bravado chatter and last night it brought me some trouble.

First of all – I was nervous about wearing makeup.  I applied it early as I’m not very good at it.  Wanted to be sure to be able to wash my face and have a ‘do over’.  But, it seemed to work out.  I asked my son, “On a scale from ‘party’ to ‘hooker’ how do I look?”  Luckily the answer was ‘party’.

Here’s he and I outside.

image

He was preparing to leave.  Which, left me to pacing the house like a caged cat.

My friend arrived and the nervous chatter began in anticipation of having to ‘people’.

Event was fun once I settled into my table and was close to those I knew.

Unfortunately, nervous chatter became a verbal eyeroll at something that was said on the microphone and someone I don’t get along with very well stared me down and declared me rude.   This was out loud and what was said, literally, was “You’re rude.”  It was accompanied by a look of disgust.

I deserved it.

I own my part in it.

I do!

I brushed it off though and after eating too much food proceeded to burn some calories off on the dance floor.

I haven’t danced in so long!  Well, not in public.  I chair dance, bedroom dance and car dance – but that doesn’t really count does it.

My friend was ready to leave but I was feeling the beat and finally feeling comfortable ‘peopling’.

I acquiesced and home we went.

All in all, a great night.

And now here I sit, waiting for the washing machines to give up my clothes.

It’s threatening to rain outside, which, would actually be quite lovely for a Sunday.  Nothing better than a blanket, a cozy home and rain hitting the windows and roof.

image

I caved and turned the heat on yesterday.  After replacing the filters on my vents.  I woke early yesterday to find my son on the couch with a knit hat on his head and a comforter around him.  A little dramatic, but I got the point.

We went to breakfast then shopped for those filters and a few other necessities.

I also got a hair cut.  A treat for me.  I usually just let it look like a horses mane.  But my intention was to also color it.  I wanted to go darker, but the timing wasn’t right.  I had driven and my son would be stuck for a couple of hours as he doesn’t drive stick shift.

I still can’t quite wrap my head around the fact that he’s leaving soon.

Still doesn’t feel real.

And if I thought it was quiet here – with machine doors opening and closing and rumbles and laundry cart wheels dragging across the tiles – then I’m going to be in for one hell of a shock when he does go.  My home will be quiet.  And lonely.  And a piece of me will be gone.

Until then, I’ll enjoy each moment.

Each laugh I hear coming from his room.  Each late night refrigerator opening.

Each piece of clothing I pluck from the bathroom floor of his to bring here.

My kidlet. And he’s going away.

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Musings from the Laundromat: Rocky Horror Clock Edition

My clock is confused.

I set it for 6 a.m. Knowing I could comfortably hit snooze a couple of times before gathering my laundry and heading out to the ‘mat.

Woke on time – hit that button like the lady of leisure I felt.

Next eyelid opening had me staring at 7:30.  Ok.  Laundromat officially doesn’t open until 8:00.  I still had plenty of time to do my customary brushing of tangled hair and morning teeth then find some pants to throw on.

I even toyed with the idea of showering first …

Then I walked out of my bedroom and glanced at my other clocks.

8:30

image

My time keeper had taken a step to the left.

Now, I realize it’s Sunday and other than laundry and light cleaning, I have nothing pressing on my agenda – but I did get that momentary panicked bird in the chest sensation and then “Oh shit” went through my mind.

I encounter this ‘Time Warp” annually.  I have a ‘smart’ clock.  I beg to differ with its intelligence as it is supposed to know that we, in Arizona, do not observe Daylight Savings Time.  Our clocks do not Fall Back this time of year.

And besides, dear clock of mine – that occurred LAST weekend.

So, I changed its mode to whatever made the time correct and proceeded to head out of the door weighted down with two baskets of dirty clothing.

____________________________

Laundry Lady is here this week.  I’m glad.  Some normality returned to my routine.  We exchanged our usual banter and I sat at my 2nd favorite table.

While typing a man with a thick German accent asked:

“There is internet?”

“Yes,” I responded, “Free WIFI.”

He settled into the table behind me and has his tiny lap top out.  As I stuffed the dryers I asked, “Did you find it?”

“Oh yes.  You know, the McDonalds, they don’t have it anymore.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, yes.  I think they do not want for you to sit too long inside.”

I can’t remember the last time I sat inside of a McDonalds.  Can’t actually remember the last time I actually ate McDonalds.  I think that’s a good thing.

I do have a ginormous piece of salmon that I’ll be cooking in between cleaning and binge watching Salem on Netflix.

And, I’ll be cutting my eyes over to my clock occasionally to be sure it’s not up to anymore shenanigans.

image

Something a little punny about ‘watching’ a ‘clock’ no?

But I will be.  Know this clock, I WILL be.

 

 

Electing to Muse before the Laundromat

I tread lightly with this post.  Like a teen on a floor full of squeaky floor boards late at night.

sneak

It has come to pass.

Someone with no military experience is to be Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy.

Someone with no political experience holding office is to be Head of State and Head of Government of the United States.

I shudder.

I shudder because someone who has problems editing himself and can’t help but display his racism and misogyny is to communicate with other world leaders.

angry-trump

I was advised by a friend of many, many years that I have no right to ‘complain’ because I didn’t vote.  That I should become a citizen and do so, THEN I could complain.

I rebutted with the fact that I am here legally and have paid taxes (beginning at 14).

I reminded her that I have a son who is a citizen and worry for his future.

I also mentioned that throughout this entire campaign, I didn’t once comment on her obvious support of a candidate I abhorred.

And let’s face it, if ever there were a time I’d want to become a citizen, it certainly wouldn’t be now.

Besides, now I’m over my fear of flying – perhaps I’ll enjoy a deportation?  Would be nice to see my family and friends in England again.

brit

 

But, in all seriousness:

He plans to dismantle the Affordable Care Act (which, I JUST signed up for!)  which will effectively increase the premiums out of working class reach.

He plans to change the tax brackets (removing the largest one & increasing the lowest) which will only serve to add to our National Debt.

God only knows what his other plans are – we didn’t hear much about them during his campaign. (I mean, other than the notorious ‘wall’)

But you can be sure that Pence and the Koch brothers have quite an outline for him.

And that is all I will say.

I hope I’m wrong.  I truly do.

Sadly, regardless of any success he may achieve in ‘making America great again’ – the person doing it is still someone who has zero respect for women.   Someone who bullies, spews hate and lies.  Someone who does not apologize or accept responsibility for past indiscretions.

Someone who does not tread lightly.