Auf Wiedersehen

Lately, I find I'm struggling a bit with this blog.

The blog started off as a way for me to talk about being engaged and getting married, and being slightly apprehensive of that whole situation. Lots of bellyaching about my husband and his family.

Then we got a dog. We bought a home. We had a kid. We've been on trips and in marital counseling. It's a full, messy, happy life.

But over the years, my desire to share has sometimes been intrusive. My husband has asked that I not share certain things online, and he's right. Some of our lives need to stay here, within the four walls of our home, without spectators. Not just bad stuff, but real stuff, funny stuff, stuff that makes us stronger together because it is us as a unit.

So what's left? And why?

I never set out to become a popular blogger. It was never my dream to build an audience, or show off how clever or elegant a writer I am. I've never been truly anonymous. I wanted to type things out and I chose to do so in this format rather than a journal hidden in a drawer. Almost eight years of my life this way. (Good grief. That's almost a quarter of it. Right here online.)

Which is all well and good, but: what's left? and why?

I don't know the answers. I'm taking that as a sign that it's time to stop.

I'm going to leave this up for a little while as I try to determine if I want to pull it all into a Blurb book. Maybe I'll erase the whole thing and start over. Wouldn't that be nice?

random

My then-boyfriend took me to see John Mayer in concert a few years back. Maybe like eight years. It was a while ago, but time runs together. Mayer had *maybe* released the album after No Room for Squares, but I'm not sure about that.

Anyway. Concert. Tweeter Center in Tinley Park. (Yeah, *that's* how far back this memory goes.) Double bill with Counting Crows. (Who, btw, kicked Mayer's ass, and I'm not even a Counting Crows fan. They know how to put on a show.)

Enjoyable show.

The point of this post? There was an opening act. A black guy who kicked Counting Crows's ass. I remember going home and thinking that I looked forward to when he got popular.

I do not remember this guy's name! I can't even hum any of his songs. All I can remember is that there was this guy at a concert way back whenever and I liked his music and I have no idea how I'd find out who he was to see what he's been up to since. My brain is stuck on this problem with no way to solve it. My Google-fu eludes me.

This is going to be one of those things that's going to follow me around for the next four decades of my life until I'm in a nursing home when I will mention it to the guy in the room across the hall and he will turn out to have been the very guy I've been looking for. Because life is like a Grey's Anatomy episode that way.

I'm still here. Only... very badly burned...

I'm still out of work. Going on six months now. It's been odd.

The kidlet is still in daycare. We left her there so as not to lose her place with a childcare provider who adores her. If we could have pulled her out with the certain knowledge that she'd be able to go back whenever I find a job, we would have done so. As it is, that's a mortgage payment that we spend each month while I sit at home.

This is guilt. My days are reading trashy books and, if I exert myself, getting around to see friends I don't otherwise see. About once a month, I go on an interview. I trawl the internet, following both goofy links and combing the same handful of job posting websites.

@ has suggested it's time to get a part-time job. The gravy train has stopped, and now we've reached the "let's dip into the emergency fund" portion of program. (This is not only a First World Problem, but a Solidly Middle Class Problem. Millions of unemployed US citizens should be so lucky as we.) Turns out that finding a part-time gig is about as easy as finding a full-time one. *sigh*

Amid all of this, I had a wonderful birthday last week. It was quiet and sans fanfare, with the exception of a very surprising number of people wishing me well on Facebook. (I thought I turned off the FB reminder, but something better than 10% of my Friends list stopped by to post a note. I felt loved. Sure, it takes a second, but it's a second more than I expected.)

We took the kidlet to the zoo since our membership expires at the end of the month. She loved it, as she always does. The carousel at the Brookfield Zoo is a particular hit. Five rides this weekend, though she refuses to sit on an animal. She will only ride the benches.

I woke up this morning a little earlier than I have been and had the chance to tell @ how much I love him. For all my whining about him, he's a generous, kind, thoughtful, funny man. I couldn't imagine a better father for my daughter, and I still don't know what he sees in me.

#womenreadcomics

@: So I should have known better than watch the iFanboy episode talking about this one.

me: They spoil something for you again?

@: Yeah!

me (obligatory sympathetic spouse murmuring): Sorry to hear that.

@: You know how Blackest Night introduced all the different Lantern Corps? Blue, red, black...?*

me: Sure.

@: So the Blue Lanterns are hope. And of course the Black Lanterns bring back the dead. Now there are White Lanterns. Want to guess who the head of the White Lanterns is?

me: Jesus?

@: Sinestro.

me: Oh. Jesus would be the obvious choice.

(pause)

me: What do the Pink Lanterns do?

@: There are no Pink Lanterns. Pink isn't a color in the rainbow.

me: That seems an oversight. I bet Pink Lanterns are coming. Know that they have?

@: What's that?

me: Ponies. Pink Lanterns have ponies. And sparkles.

*I'm sort of guessing what he said at this point. While I was certainly paying attention, the details of the Green Lantern story arcs don't get a lot of real estate in my head.