Wednesday, December 16, 2009


You would think that after four months without a post here, people would have stopped worrying about my ragged-ass life and moved on, but apparently that's not the case. But then, I was the Nervous Nellie who would e-mail people who hadn't posted anything in a month or two all atwitter with concern--now I know: sometimes life moves on, and sometimes it just gets a little too hectic. Since the summer, I have been working out of town four days a week, and usually commute up one day, down the next, to get my Goat fix. Every once in a while, I just can't face the drive, so I stay up "thar" four days in a row and turn into what my hero Betty MacDonald called "a Big Saddo."

What really gets me down is that most weeks I don't spend any two consecutive nights in the same bed. I hated living out of a suitcase when I was being paid a ton of money to do it... and now I'm definitely not being paid a ton of money.
The One Called Bigg, who seems to spend most of his spare time reading my mind, has hit me up with a "meme-thingie." Now, I'm not really into memes, or, for that matter, the word "thingie"--it's one of my little crosses to bear these days, as the Goat is constantly using it or other shorthand language like it... However that may be, I owe Bigg a lot, and meme-fulfillment doesn't really seem like that much to ask. It's kind of the least I can do, if you know what I mean. So here goes:

1. Number One is not something I now have to enjoy.

But it sure as hell is something I look forward to having: a place big enough for both the Goat and me to live together, and not a hundred miles from where I work. We currently have three places all within a fairly short distance of each other, and none of our "places" is big enough for two people. Well, I could fit in, around the edges, at least, but there is no room for any of my "stuff." Moral of story: get rid of your stuff... I haven't quite managed to pull that one off yet.

2. Number Two is: spending time with my grandmother.

There are not too many 58-year-olds who still have a grandmother, let alone one who insists on cooking for them--and who cooks really well. What can I say? She can't drink anymore, but there's always a bottle of wine out, and we sit and talk, or just sit and "be" with each other. There's something wonderful about having a 98-year-old friend to hang out with... and this gets to bump #3 only because every time I leave her house to head "home," I realize that there is a perfectly good statistical chance that she will not be there when I get back.

3. Number Three is: sharing a meal with someone I love, or even just enjoy.

Now I realize this bears a striking resemblance to #2, but that's just the way it is. The Goat often yearns for his days in the restaurant trade [the fact that those days were in his freshly "out" youth is the only explanation I can think of] and so sets out to welcome me home from my days away with a good bottle of wine, good cheese, and, usually, a great meal. We have been known to take some herbal supplement and some strenuous exercise before starting dinner prep--OK, that's pretty much the standard set-up, I confess--but that doesn't impede our appreciation of food, wine, or each other one bit.

It works just as well without the "happy hour" ingredients, of course, but they don't do any harm. I can enjoy most food and most people on their own, let alone the Goat... and I am nearly as fond of having dinner with my mother or my kids or several of my very good friends or, in days gone by, with the One Called Isis. It has been my fate throughout life to land in relationships with people who love food, which even if it has ruined what was never a terribly good figure to begin with, does make me think [a] that God exists, and [b] that he loves me...

4. Number Four is: sharing a movie with someone I love, or even just enjoy.

My Favorite [and only] Daughter and I have a bad habit of running off to the multiplex to catch whatever piece of silliness has just come out. We saw both Public Enemies and District 9 this summer, and will probably pick up where we left off while she's home from college in early January. I am praying she will forgive me for planning to catch Avatar in IMAX-3D on the Goat's Christmas vacation before I see her then... and if she doesn't, that's OK, too. The Goat and I try to watch a lot of movies together, but our taste only overlaps so far [what is it about people who use "Hollywood movie" as a putdown?] and he has trouble staying awake through anything I want to see. To be fair, he has trouble staying awake through anything he wants to see, too, so I can't bear a grudge.

5. Number Five is: taking the time to curl up with a good book.

Or with one of the Approved Magazines [I have been a New Yorker fanatic since before I understood anything between the covers beside the cartoons]. The Goat is a guy who has to spend a lot of time outdoors doing stuff, and unlike my previous partner, has no trouble doing it on his own. So we both often get what we want... which is not to say that renting the wood-splitter and chugging through a winter's worth of wood in a day wasn't a blast--it was. It's just not something I lie around wishing I could be doing. For him, it is. I guess opposites attract.

Followers of Bigg's blogs will note that there is no mention here of making a home for my lover, or laying out outfits for him every day [though I do wash and fold all the laundry and wash almost all the dishes, unless he's decided it's "relaxing" to do it himself]. Or about work or learning. I'm not a home-maker, but give me the choice between a chain saw and a Cuisinart, and I don't go play lumberjack. I'm still "OK"--I'm just the Great Indoorsman. The positively amazing thing is that the Goat doesn't care. When we first got together, I was a complete mess; I am still something of a mess, but then I was a real mess, and he said quite placidly that he loved me just the way I was. I used to think it was just something he said to all the girls, but it has been borne out over time, and he finds the most astonishingly attentive ways to make it clear that he means it. Anyway, aside from the commuting, my life looks pretty good right now.

Thanks to the Greedy Maelstrom for this link: I liked it a lot, though it took time to wade through it all...

Hang in there, guys.
We must all hang together or we shall most assuredly hang separately...



  1. You posted.
    For me.
    And you read Betty McDonald.
    I'm just gonna assume that was for me, too.
    This makes me so happy. So very, very happy...
    But now you must post again.
    Very, very soon.
    Or why not get a Google Wave invitation from yours truly and Wave me?
    Think about it.
    Thank you very much.