Out With The Old... In With The Familiar

I'm forcing myself to stay up late in hopes of catching this Perseid meteor shower lighting up the sky. How I would love to have that camera I dream of. One that would be capable of capturing such a potentially glorious show. But alas, I am simply left with wishful thinking amongst an overdrawn checking account and overcast skies.

I was on "vacation" from the 3rd to the 11th. Though most would have booked a trip to some exotic paradise, I "chose" to spend my time remodelling another rental for my now regular client. Considering I have lofty dreams, an as-yet unsecured job, and the leftover financial burn from nearly a year of unemployment; working while on a paid vacation seemed the responsible thing to do. The work becomes tedious, yes, but bringing new life to those old apartments provides me with a very inspirational and satisfying sense of being. Like a drunk who can't drink enough; I sought out even more "pleasure" by simultaneously overhauling the exterior of my own home. Perhaps the paint fumes created my manic state, or, perhaps, it was my detest of cranberry shutters... All I know is that most "normal" people wouldn't return home after painting for 7 hours on a hot, muggy day and start painting their own house. Let alone paint until midnight, with a light hanging from a nail on a rickety old wooden ladder!

Thankfully, I came to my senses on Thursday. Well, if I am being completely honest, the threat of rain forced me into a more sane state of mind. It was time to vacation on my vacation. But what would I do? In typical Mona fashion, I had ignored myself. I had made no plans! Before I could settle into a state of disgust, I received a chance response to a chance email sent to my former chance encounter, C.F.

He was nearby.

As life would have it... I was free, and he was as free as he was going to be. I left in the night on an adventure that was one like I hadn't taken since my care-free irresponsible 20's. As I roared down the highway with my barely-there muffler, I began to feel more and more alive. As the yellow dashes disappeared under my bumper, so did that nagging sense of lack I had been lying awake in bed with just days before.

The romance of spontaneity was quickly clouded with hilarity as I realized I had torn my jean pocket on that very nail I hung a light on to paint in the night while passing the pile of ladders in my dark garage. I bought super glue at the gas station and nearly glued my ass to my pants in the parking lot! Thank God for that burning sensation industrial strength adhesive gives when it touches the skin! And that was just the beginning of my adventurous antics! Brilliant me decided to take a 32 ounce travel mug of Mint Sun Tea on the road. Just as I was finding myself lost in a very dangerous looking part of town, I was also finding myself in serious need of peeing! Perfect timing to not know where the hell you are going, and being a lone, woman traveller. Add to that having to turn around on the toll road, of course, paying more tolls; asking the most "safe" looking gentlemen where the street I needed to be on was, only to have another man pull up next to me and tell me to follow him... and you have a lone woman traveller, about to piss her pants, all the while hoping she isn't being led off to a dark alley to be bludgeoned in her super glued and soon to be tinkled in jeans!

Would I get there? Alive and in dry pants?

Desperation was setting in. Frustration was setting in. My would have been 15 minutes early arrival had now become an hour late circling of the city. I tried to call the hotel to tell him I was somewhere nearby, but I had written the number down wrong. I finally came to my senses and found a parking garage. I dumped the car that wouldn't show me the way for a cab that could drop me off at the door of the hotel, allowing me to reach a bathroom, and C.F. , in a more expedient manner. A nice Indian taxi driver recognized the "I have no fuckin' clue what I'm doing and where I'm going" look on my face and waved me to his cab from two lanes over.

Once I found the bathroom, I had to search for the elevators. The hotel was very swank. Relief that I would soon be at his door quickly dissipated when I realized there was no 13th floor... which was where his room should have been, according to his message. Shit! I got off the elevator and headed to the courtesy phone in the hall.

"Is there a room 1301?" I asked.

"No."

"Well can you please connect me with C.F.'s room please?"

Finally. Finally I was at his door.

We spent the next few hours talking. We talked about anything and everything, in a sense of familiarity we hadn't had when we met so many months ago. This wayward journey was one I was glad to have taken. There are people in this world that we share connections with. Connections that are so powerful we cannot begin to understand them, and maybe we aren't supposed to.

I was alive in that moment. In that evening. And although the past several months of my life have been very fulfilling; although so many things are happening for me that I had once given up hope for... I had to let go of the old habit of never holding on to me. C.F. was familiar to me, but this relaxed and rejuvenating feeling I had with him was so very very new. There were no "what ifs" or "why can't we's." There was just us and that very moment in time... in this life.

Although he had asked to share breakfast, I left quietly under the darkness of a stormy Saturday morning as he slept peacefully. My goodbye scrawled on a hotel note pad, I returned to the highway; returned to my life, only not quite as I knew it.

I spent my Saturday afternoon with Chester, as I usually do. Only this time, I daydreamed of the night before while Chester napped in his chair. I went to the beach on Sunday and became reacquainted with the joy I feel when waves crash against my skin. And Monday... Monday I replaced what was left of my old rusty muffler so I could enjoy the comfortable quietness of a cared for car once again.

What You Bargained For...

I used to date this guy who said, amongst many other things, that he'd help me paint my house.

Well he's not around anymore (Mr. "Nice" Guy), and I've been doing the majority of the scraping, sanding, taping, priming; and painting by myself. My back is killing me, and no matter how many hours I work, no matter how many nights I paint in the dark under dim light from the street... it's just never done! My liver is about to fail from overdosing on ibuprofen so I can sleep at night. My once pink toenail polish is now dotted with three different colors of paint. There is paint in my hair and paint on my skin. I have more ladders outside then you would find in a hardware store. There is a sliver in my palm. I feared for my life as I was about 25 feet off the ground on a shaky extension ladder... praying someone would call 9-1-1 if I plummeted to my death. Hoping they would also clean the blood splatters off before my paint job was ruined!

Now I don't feel so bad for letting him get in my pants. His offer to help was a pretty powerful negotiating tool. This is some seriously hard work! However, since he didn't come through on his end of the "bargain," I think I'm going to sue.

Putting Zee Foot in Zee Mouth!

Tonight was our "Raku" firing for our ceramic pieces. It's a no-frills Japanese method involving metal trash cans, crumpled newspaper and lighter fluid. Because I was away at a work conference, I had to join the beginners group for their firing tonight; a group of people I had not met before. Us creative "weirdos" have an instantaneous bond. Kind of like computer geeks, musicians, compulsive shoppers... you know... you just "get" each other. It's a very casual outdoor evening, with a pot luck of tasty creative cuisine, and intriguing chit-chat. Feeling right at home, I was being my usual idiot self.

So there I was, cooling my fresh-from-the-fire bowl, when I overheard a distinctively French accent. I looked up from my smoldering clay to examine the source of this melodic voice; only to see a somewhat attractive man. Hmmm. Monsieur Cute Guy. In standard dipshit form, I proceeded to ask where he was from.

"Here." He replied in zee Frenchest of French accents.

Yeah right. Half the men from this town can't even speak proper English, let alone pull off a convincing French accent. Explaining further, he said he travelled quite a bit while he was living in France and that was why he didn't specify his prior residence.

"What brought you here?" I asked curiously. I mean, really, I've been to France. The hell if I'd turn my back on that beautiful architecture to live in the armpit of America!

"My wife." He replied tersely.

Nice. I hit on the married French guy with a wife two feet away. Pretty smooth, Mona, pretty smooth.

What You Wish For...

Be careful of that! Whilst finding many of my own very wishes coming true... I find myself buried in them! Buried in cliches as well! "When it rains it pours" is certainly ringing loud and true for me; negatively and positively.

My laptop croaked. Then the loaner croaked.

I had no job. Three jobs. Two jobs. 15 hours a week. 20 hours a week. 32 hours a week. Then 30 hours a week. Now I've been offered 40 hours a week, I still care for Chester and my remodelling job is dragging on because of a sub-contractor. The first grant I wrote was awarded, which is great for the resume, but bad in the sense that delays in the awarding process mean my deadlines will be extremely difficult to reach. I am getting sent to many conferences which award continuing education credits; again good for the resume, but bad for the deadlines!

I feel like I'm running after everything! Including after my own shoes! I have no milk, no eggs, no butter, and no time to go to the store. I have a tote bag full of mail and not a single over-priced stamp. I have my primer and paint for my own remodel job: the garage. Yet, I have not a single moment (that doesn't involve rain) to get back to it!

And the boys. Oh those silly boys. A couple boys have been attempting to court me, but again, I have no time! And when I find time, I'm going to have to decide if I want to allow this said courting first! I must confess that regardless of any potential futures with any said boys, knowing that there may still be options after you have neared even closer to 40 is something I'm very grateful for!

Unfortunately, either a cup of Earl Grey tea, or some overnight anxiety kept me up until almost 4 a.m. which made getting up at 5:30 a.m. not so pleasant. Couple my lack of sleep with congestion, sneezing, itchy ears and an irritated throat (allergies?) and I'm ready to tie a white T-shirt to a stick and wave it wildly to and fro!

Oh it has rained. And has it poured! And I am: drowning!

Behind... Behind!

Yowza! It's been quite some time since I've verbally harassed the world wide web. I'd apologize... but I suspect some of you out there are rather grateful for the resulting silence! I'm so behind... that I'm even behind on my behind! Maintenance of it, that is. In essence of time, and celebration of laziness, I have decided to use bullets to update you on the goings-on of Mona:

• I chose to celebrate the 4th by cooking dinner for my mother (she had to work) and lighting off lame grocery store fireworks that offered more laughter than explosive delight.
• In case you didn't know... yeah, I'm single again.
• I had a birthday. The big 3-8. And, for the first time in a very long time, I actually enjoyed my birthday.
• My job is still going well, however, if grant funding does not come through in September... it's back to the unemployment lines!
• "Act Like A Lady. Think Like A Man" by Steve Harvey was given to me as a gift from my boss. I think they want me to find a husband more than I do!
• The elderly man I care for has been declining in health.
• An article I wrote for our organization was published in a local magazine.
• My personal laptop had an unfortunate meeting with a glass of ice water, courtesy of my dementia-riddled cat.
• The loaner laptop I have has a chronic illness of some sort (hence the lack of blogging).
• I'm doing another remodel, and decided that it would be a good time to scrape and repaint my garage. NOT!
• My immediate family and I are becoming closer since my brother moved back.
• This is the first year of my life that I can remember my father wishing me a Happy Birthday.

Basically... I'm at a crossroads. There are many things before me, and I'm trying to decide where to direct my energies. It's a good thing. Just too difficult to express in one blog after a twelve hour work day while watching "America's Got Talent" on tv. In fact, I almost considered starting an entirely new blog with a slightly different focus, but my computer problems are preventing me from doing much of anything that involves the internet reliably.

So once I've caught up with my behind... I'll try to provide a more ass-tronomically profound blog. Stay tuned.