Sunday, May 24, 2009

The waiting place...

I feel like I'm in every brand of Limbo there is.

I'm here in France. I can't really work HERE because you have to have all these extra credentials to be a librarian here. I could teach English, sure, but the thought of it makes my skin crawl. It makes my bowels shrivel and lurch. I would probably do it though... for the money... but we have the girls in maximum daycare. There aren't any spots for them to go more.

Okay, I'm probaby making excuses a LITTLE. And that's because I don't WANT to work. I like being at home so I can write. And I LIKE being with Lolo during the day. (Don't get me wrong... I LOVE my childless Tuesdays too!) I want the money because that means moving forward toward whatever's going to happen (more limbo), but I don't want to take time away from my writing.

Speaking of... that's another limbo. I heard from the AMD's assistant (we'll call him JMC). He said no. He also said that child molestation is overused in girl-in-trouble stories (that's nearly a direct quote). Only an asshole would say that about a true story, so, I knew right then that he didn't know it was a memoir (giving him the benefit of the doubt to not actually BE an asshole). So, I wrote him back and told him that my child molestation wasn't fiction and that I, in fact, WAS the girl-in-trouble and I told him that I appreciated the consideration, understood the reasons for their not taking me on and asked for any direction he might be able to give. He wrote me back and said, "I feel like guard at the Emerald City in the Wizard of Oz, 'Well, why didn't you SAY so?'" Then he told me about the Liar's Club, one of his all-time favorite books and asked had I read it. And THEN, and here's the heart-racing part, he asked me about my other memoirs... about the age range and the statuses of those manuscripts. *eyes bulge and mouth drops* So, THEN, I write HIM an overeager, gushy email about my work and blah blah blah.

He hasn't written back.

BUT, I kept thinking, "Huh, Liar's Club. That sounds familiar..." I turn around and there it is staring back at me from my shelf! I get it down and see from the inside cover that my friend SW gave me the book for my birthday back in 2005 saying it was one she had read and re-read and loved... and that since she had read and re-read MY story, she felt like in giving me the book she was introducing two old friends to one another!!! And it's true. As soon as I finished Angels and Demons (which I have mixed emotions about... I finished it about 2 hours before the movie), I opened the Liar's Club and ate it up in less than a day. The whole time reading it, I kept getting these flashes of memory. Her story isn't THAT similar to mine, but the tone of her life is pretty familiar. So, I ended up taking PAGES of notes and I mean just jot-downs of reminders for later.

So, after finishing it last night, I wrote JMC an email and thanked him for the tip. Now, I'll just wait to hear back from him. I don't know if the "no" still stands or not. I don't know if they'd like to see other stuff. So, I don't know what I should work on. Should I go ahead and finish my revision of HILF? OR, should I tear into LSP and get IT revised? OR, should I go ahead and start on a new book (LU)? I have a feeling that I'll go ahead and do things in that order. But it'd be nice to know which one they might be interested in right away so I'd know how to prioritize.

I'm in physical limbo, as well. I want to move. I want to get all this extra jiggly off of me. But I'm freaked out about going out. So, I worked on the gym room. I spent all (I mean ALL) last Tuesday sanding, patching, painting, sanding and re-painting. And it still wasn't done. Then, I got Sam to finally hang the bikes and he pierced a hole through the wall on which I had just finished putting two coats of paint (no, from the OTHER side... because he's a CAVE MAN and just HAD to start hammering the dry wall screwy thing in). What really happened (though he won't admit it, liar) is that he drilled through the brick on the one side and then kept going (why? who knows?) until he drilled through the brick on the OTHER side (why are there holly BRICKS in the walls here? who knows?). AND THEN, to cover it up, he put some spackle on the hole and slicked the torn wallpaper (with two coats of paint) down. Why is it that so many French people like to do things half-assed? It's mostly the dudes. "Yeah, slap a little spackle on it, sand it, slap some paint on there and no one will be the wiser!" *eye roll* So, the next morning, I have to go down there and RE-DO it once I see how crappily it's been done. I had to take a razor knife, cut a square around the humongous hole (then discovering he had lied to me about how said hole got there... dredging up all KINDS of emotions that I won't go into right now) and put spackle in there in stages so that it would dry (the big lump he had poured in there still hadn't dried overnight because he had smashed it all up with the torn wallpaper). I'll still have to go down there this evening and sand, tape, respackle and wait for it to dry so I can sand and re-paint.

That said, the room is almost done. I painted the trim in blue yesterday and got Sam to finally pull the carpet up and cart it off. So, now I just need to fix that hole, put a second coat of blue on the baseboards and do a little touch up around the windows. Oh, sure, there are other finishing touches like a towel rack, coat rack and giving the floor/outside door a good scrub, but those things aren't keeping me from working out. The paint fumes... now THOSE are keeping me tied up a little. But in the mean time, I think I'll just go for a walk. I have PLANS to get Lolo dressed and into the jogger. We'll go to the park for a WALK just to get moving. These are PLANS, y'all.

The other thing is.... well..... I'm having symptoms. Dizziness, nausea, moodiness... All of these could be PMS. And we've only had eee-er eee-er twice this month (and at infertile times). BUT, strange things keep happening, like Ryan keeps talking about how he wants a baby brother. And then someone else asked me if I was trying to get pregnant. And then, last night, I had a very vivid dream that I had a positive pregnancy test.

That's great and all. I'd welcome another baby with open arms. I just wish I could get a little of this fluff off before. AND, I also wonder about whether or not it would be very fair to bring yet another little human into this mess of a marriage.

I'm SO in limbo on that shit. The marriage stuff. There are moments where my bags are packed. I picture myself all free and clear of the prison that is our marriage. Then, there are other times where I wonder why I thought that. Like I wonder if staying together is the best thing. I wonder if I'm SUPPOSED to be here to take care of Sam. I do think he'd be lost without me. And all the love I feel... the nostalgia... just gets all tugged at when i think about it that way. THEN, I think he really needs someone more suited to him. I'm not really his type.

I don't know.

What I do know is that we went out Thursday night for dinner and I told him. I came clean about wanting to leave. And he said, "Well, I guess I can just try harder." If it was sincere, it was the cutest, most pitiful little response. But is he playing me? And even if he's not, will he make good? And even if he does, will it be enough? I just keep thinking about that hole, and the lie, and the quick half-assed fix and I think about how that's just representative of him. The kicker is that I specifically TOLD him not to touch the hole. That I would go down there and fix it. But of course, if I did that, I'd noticed that he had lied about how he made the hole... And for what? So he wouldn't look like a dumb ass? *sigh*

I know all this sounds petty. And I know that most of you are like, dude, it's just a hole. But so am I. It's just a hole. Why can't he just admit he screwed up and then either fix it correctly or let me do it? What, is it some sort of affront to his manhood that I am better at construction-y type things? It's a fact. He's a math genius and I'm a master of practical application. Why can't we just have our own areas of exceptionality without him feeling threatened? I don't understand why he NEEDS me to be weak and stupid to feel all manly. Can you guys believe I married someone like this? Me? The uber feminist? I just don't get it.

Still, he IS on line looking at land.... And looking at trailers so that we can have MORE land than house (and on-going argument of ours... I have argued all along that it would be better for us to get a big ass piece of land and put a trailer on it to live in while we build our dream house... but he didn't see the value of my argument until some dude he works with said, "You know what I'd do? I'd buy a big ass piece of land and put a trailer on it." THEN it became a reasonable argument.... when some random DUDE makes the suggestion... *eye roll* At this point, I'm like whatever... as long as I get my land... I don't care whose idea it is... Just hurts not to be taken seriously even though I've proven myself worthy over and over and over...). So, i don't know what will happen.

He's talking about being here an extra year. For the money. Because we'd have an extra $40K with which to start our farm. That would be great. But.... Ryan is already acting like a little French bastard. I'm glad he's excelling linguistically and all... I really am... It's one of the reasons we came here. But he's starting to talk back like A does. When Sam reminds him to do something Ryan says, "Ouai, d'accord, j'ai compris deja, eh?" In which circumstance, I would give him a major talking-to and put him in time out... But Sam just says--with little authority--don't talk to me like that--sounding like a computer generated response.

What if........ What if I found a job? A library job? In Virginia? What if we buy the land in January, go there on our vacation to lay in some fruit trees and some aperagas and some mushrooms and some organic pest treatments? And then, near summertime, I find a job there? He could stay here and I could hire a nanny to live with me. If we did that, then he could earn HIS extra $40K and I could earn another extra $40K... And THEN, we'd have a BIG OLE CHUNK of change to get started on the actual building of our house. OR to pay off the land and get a NEW loan for the construction of the house... See? But when I bring this up, he says no. I understand that it would be hard for everyone involved. But this way we would both win. I wouldn't have to stay here another year, Ryan wouldn't have to spend another year getting behind in his ENGLISH (and American public school debut) and we would still make a huge chunk of change!

Okay, I realize how unrealistic it is, but in my mind, it's do-able.

I'm rambling aren't I? Sorry. But it helps to think "out loud." I'll let you get back to work or laundry or mowing the lawn or whatever. Thanks for indulging me. And I won't datadump you with photos this time. *grin*

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Huh. (Oh, and beware... LOTS of pix.)

Ah yes, it has come back to this. The dilemma over whether or not to go forward with my current person. My own personal antagonist, who gets his rocks off by reminding me over and over I have no power. Yesterday, it was subtle, but oh so screamy. In my mind, I was packing my bags. But again, I can't can I?

Or.... Can I?

Then I got to thinking, if I didn't have all these chains, I could do my own thing. Why do I have to feel like I have to have someone else to fuel my dreams? I'm chock full of mojo, yo. Why not just ride this train until the two-year ride is over (oh and btw, it's turning into three years, against my will) and then hop off with a wave and a bird? It would be painful and lonely, but at least I'd be free to raise my animals and veggies without the constant weight tugging on my optimism, right?

It has been suggested over and over that instead of a down payment, why not pay off the student loans? I have had my dukes up all this time, but now I'm considering the question and answering, "Huh. Why not?"

My one regret? Time. Means my monsters won't spend as much time on the farm. But, well, I'm dying inside. I feel the glue pulling, my stitches splitting and I really don't know how much longer I can hold on. Okay, not true, I'm way too damn stubborn to say something like that. I can hold on 'til my fingers fall off. But do I want to? Nope.

I just keep thinking... I'm dragging. And I'm dragging him.

Introducing Plan B!!! But I'll keep mum about that... I think you get the gist.

In other news, I've got the storage room downstairs nearly cleared out. I'm going to go buy three bike hangin' thingies and if I have to mount the goddamn things myself, I will. I'm getting the bikes off the floor to make room for the strollers so that my workout room is totally empty. I'm also going to buy the things necessary to put another shelf in the closet part of the room--yet another expression of my stubbornnes... I'll have to mount that myself. *eye roll* (If he'd just think about how much a gym membership would cost, he'd shut his fucking trap, wouldn't he?) When we went to the in-laws' house yesterday, I went up in the attic and found all the painting paraphenalia we used for our first apartment together. The sight of the residue on the rollers wrenched my heart like a vice. Memories of being in love. If I could only go back in time and bitchslap myself. Anyhoo, got the painting stuff and am going to go buy my own goddamn paint (stubbornness), painter's tape and maybe a polyurethane drop cloth? Gotta call around and find a carpet shampoo-er (he's against that, too... see where this is heading? And this ain't even the farm, yo... it's just a goddamn workout room... *eye roll* See what I'd have to deal with on EVERY SINGLE FUCKING DECISION I'd want to make on the farm?). I'd LOVE to be able to replace the carpet... Or even rip it up and polish the floor underneath. But even I know that would cost some bux.

So, yeah, that's where that is as far as health is concerned. I did really well for a week and lost three pounds and then I got pissed off and put it back on. *eye roll* It's more a matter of being lost. I'm scared of people, I guess. I mean, dude, I have a jogging stroller. I could put Lolo into it and go to the park right. now. But I'm agoraphobic here. Back home, I'd already have been at the Y for hours by now. I'd have gone to the pool at the buttcrack of dawn and had Sam drop the kids off at the ChildWatch so I could do kickboxing and Zumba. That's why I'm doing the damn gym room. I'm gonna get that bitch working and I'm gonna get up at the butt crack and do my own damn kickboxing and Zumba, all by my lonesome. And MAYBE that will shake up my phobia and let me go outside.

Oh, but there's a ray of light.... The daycare said that starting in June, Lily might go full time and Lolo would be able to go an extra day. That would give me a WHOLE extra day to work. And maybe all that extra work getting done would push me to get the heck outta the house. AND in September, BOTH Ryan and Lily will be in school and maybe Lolo will pass up to full time at the daycare. That would be like Heaven. Look, I LOVE my kids. LOVE them. Worship them, even. But being able to spend ALL day doing whatever I want... Well, that just sounds lovely. Even if Lolo only went to school like Lily does now (every morning and two full days), THAT would mean I'd get SO much work done.

Why am I not getting work done right now you ask? Well, because every time I get into it, a little diaper butt comes over and puts up her arms. "Up." And I won't say no. So, I'm seldom motivated to even start... I wait until they nap to work. And that's okay because I'm starting to realize just how fortunate I am to be able to hang with my kids at home when they are babies. But I'd love to get this book revised. LURVE it!

I shaved my pits yesterday. Don't even know why. Maybe because I had had that whole Plan B epiphane while I was undressing to step into the shower. Maybe I felt like shaving meant the dawning of a new day. I'm not going to make it a habit and I admit that it feels kinda gross to have bare pits now that I got used to the fuzz, but oh well. At least I didn't put on anti-persperant, yeah? LOL.

BTW... May 15 was the 30-day exclusivity mark for the AMD/assistant. I sent a reminder but have no news... No news is good news? OR no news means I should be looking for an agent who will get back to me in a timely manner (as promised)? I mean, am I going to be allowed flexible deadlines as well? *scratches head*

So, I finally got the Grumps pix uploaded and figured I'd go ahead and share those witchuz...

Perouges... this is when we went to that kick ASS medieval city nearby...

Random pix:

Who's that kid?

Wine Tasting Cave

Store (upstairs from the wine tasting cave):

Medieval wine press:


Annecy is a town close to where Sam's parents live. We went there one day but it was FULL of tourists, so we didn't stay long. Still there were some pretty sights (the mountains, the castle, the canal running through the city).

Crazy kid wouldn't let me take a picture of the alley *eye roll*:

Canal shots:

This used to be a prison:




Easter at Pepe and Meme's house (with Grumps!):

Motley crew:

Rock stars... Ryan on guitar, Lily on vocals, Lolo on backup dancing:

In the yard at Pepe's house:

Stairs in Lyon:

Door knocker in Lyon:

Walking up the hill to Fourviere in the Jardin de la Roseraie:

Some new stuff at the Roman ruins in Lyon (stuff I didn't see when I went with Shannen that I discovered when I went with Grumps... I don't think they're done excavating it):

Went to Grenoble and drove up that crazy mountain to see the Bastille (remember?) instead of taking those bubble cable car mofos... Walked into some cool caves and then WALKED DOWN THE HILL instead of riding in the van (where I saw some cool plants/flowers/trees and walked through some kick ass passageways). Then, we ate at the second oldest resto in France (La Table Ronde). Ryan was on vacation and went with us.

At the top:



The moat:

Bubbles *shudder*:
From the Bastille...

From below...

From the trail...

Sights on my walk down the hill:

Scary, maze-y, stair thingy that I opted out of and instead followed the trail:

Excercise thingy:


Gates of the walled city of Grenoble:


La Table Ronde:


So, there you go... You wish I hadn't? Sorry. I know that was probably photo-overload... I probably should have given them to you a little at a time... but I wanted to get that over with. Y'all take care!