It's been too long

I've always wondered how blogs die. I mean, when I started this puppy, I would put out 1 or 2 posts A DAY. Long, chewy posts. Now it's been almost a month since my last post.

It's been too long!

But what can I say? I don't have any new news. Still working towards foster parenthood. Still working towards getting knocked up. Still enjoying my saucy life as a mom, wife and a nurse.

Been getting up at 4.45 am to work out with a friend. That is nice. I wouldn't go without her. Plus, she texts me with things like, "I'm on the toliet, see you in a few". And other such potty humor. She gets me.

Went to the fertility yoga class and with the Mommies that are on the NEED TO GET PREGNANT NOW-WHATEVER IT TAKES treadmill. Which I totally want to hug them about. I use to be on that treadmill and invited a bunch of yuck into my life as a result. I'm healed now, through the power of faith, and dangnammit, I want to hug the women in that class. I think my cheeriness falls on deaf ears. I'm at peace with all of this and their swirling crazily. Hugs to anyone that is trying to conceive (ttc) because God loves you and so do I.

Foster care is starting to scare the crap out of me. Not much more to say about that. I'll take it as it comes. Again, it's something I've given up to God. So, again, I feel peace.

So, I could go on and on about many things but there is nothing going on. I can say I get frustrated with the women folk in my life because FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY JUST SAY YES WHEN I INVITE YOU TO ZUMBA/DINNER/LUNCH/COFFEE/A WALK. Stop telling me you have to ask your husband if he'll watch the kids, stop telling me you're too busy because you can't say no to work/volunteer obligations cause that's your fault and just say yes to letting yourself grow outside your roles.

Sorry for the run on sentence.

But, it bugs me. I realize I have a golden husband that supports whatever I am and want to be. I realize I have boundaries with the obligations in my life and therefore have copious amount of awesome time. I realize I am unique in my fun loving side that can jump in and do pretty much everything and anything because I love adventure.

I realize I am unique in the respect.

Ok, 'nuff complaining.

I leave you with something my daughter said. She made a new friend and she's all excited. "I know she's going to be a good friend because she believes like me." And I said, "Believes what?"

"She believes that anything is possible, even that I can hold up a hotel with my pinky!"

(AWESOME!!)

The Addictive Allure of Artist Men

This is a long post-I apologize in advance. But, if you make it through, it will be worth the read, I promise :)

When I left for college, at age 18, I was very hungry for artistic companionship. Enter a man named Rick. He was a art major and five years older than me. We lived in a co-ed dorm, his room was next to mine. I followed him around like a kitty in heat, going to galleries, coffee shops and smoking camels. He made me dizzy. We would go the art building where he would paint while I wrote poetry. He taught me how to forge.

While we never actually dated, he became the model for a series of boyfriends. All artists, all odd, all older. Above all, all of these men were addicting.

I didn't realize it then, but the pairing of me and the older artist is a cliche. I was in the role of young, lovely ingenue. They played the sullen, worldly wise mentor. These men were often on the fringe and I would be their muse. This is the most addicting part of all.

All of the sudden, everything about me was important. Simple things like the words I used, what I thought, what I wore, all of it became grist for their art. I've had boyfriends name guitars after me, write songs with my name, paint and draw my naked form. All because I had a spark that spurred them.



The drawback to all this, is that my importance was only a reflection of their ego. I would often have to defend my choice of words, thoughts and clothes because it didn't match up with their view of the world. Not surprisingly, these artists were largely self-absorbed. Shocking, I know.

They often held a pressing idealism that art is paramount, beyond important. It is a measure of evolutionary superiority. The muse is a vital part of this attitude and I needed to act accordingly. So who was I to take joy in watching 90210? How dare I begin to enjoy my girly side, wearing high heels and pretty dresses? It was beneath me, their muse.

Eventually I had had enough. Somewhere around the seventh boyfriend such as this, I realized I was going nowhere with this fake adoration. And I was going somewhere. I also realized that they weren't socially isolated because of their artistic temperament, there were alone because no one likes an asshole. So I left that kind of life. And vowed never to defend.myself.again.to.any.guy. NEVER.AGAIN. I made a promise to only reward the kindest of company that loved me for all of me. That's when I found Mr. Hall.

Why am I telling you all this?

Lately I've been reaching out and making friends. I make friends easily- I'm pretty, thoughtful and smile a lot. I ask questions about who they are and what they like. I can speak to any number of topics and laugh easily. Plus, with Mommy friends, 3/4 of the work is already done.

I wasn't always like this. Most writers tend to be shy and introspective. I've worked very hard to become outgoing and fabulous.

So at this point, I have made two or three friends who are steadfast, Mommy friends. They are nice and I am so thankful they are here.



But.something.is.missing.

I have a wild artistic side that still throbs inside me. I realized this last night, at dinner. I was explaining the appeal of foreign films to a new set of couple friends. I was wearing a small cardigan to cover up my tattoo. Because tattoos are shocking to some in this small town. Sigh.

So I ask myself, why isn't art more of my life, like when I make friends? I think what has happened, is that when I left the role of muse, I left art out of my life expect within the tight, inner circle of my tribe. So, why don't I let it out more?

So let me do this. In the next few months let me emanate energy. Energy in yoga class, energy at gatherings, energy walking 'round town. Energy that says, I am one of the artsy ones, come find me. Maybe I'll take a pottery or painting class and put myself out there for real.

Because life is too short to have to explain the appeal of foreign films and who Picasso is. I need people in life who already know. ;)

Riddle me this

1. My husband and I sleep in the same bed, in the same room. He sleeps closer to the door-- so why do my darling, cherub children come in our room, cross all the way over to me, stand there and stare until I open my eyes. After which they ask, "MOOOMMMM, can you make us oatmeal?" I mean, their Daddy is RIGHT THERE! Plus, HE MAKES THE OATMEAL IN THE MORNING.

2. Where does the Kama Sutra come up with the names for positions? I mean, sixty nine is pretty obvious, although I don't think sixty nine is the technical name. As for me, I tend to get wicked awesome visuals whilst in the middle of things. Thus we have our own set of names for maneuvers. There's The Envelope, The Flying Squirrel (that's an extension of The Envelope), and The Egg. Those are just a few. Does anyone else make up names for their fun?

3. Why am I more sore two days after a work out? Not one, but two days?

4. At this point, I've made a few friends in my quest to build a social life. A few mommy friends. But, I still am feeling the need for a bestie. I mean, Mr. Hall is my best friend but he has no idea who Kate Spade is. How do I, a traditional wife and mother find someone who is odd like me? Who likes foreign zombie films. And tattoos. Can I find such a person at bible study on Wednesdays? We shall see . . .

5. Why does my OB-GYN want me to wait three months of "normal cycles" before we try again. Then, THEN she advises I take birth control pills for those months? JUST SAYIN!!!

6. Speaking of tattoos, why do people say they don't hurt? I mean, a tattoo gun is like a sewing machine, only the tattoo gun needle is not sewing through fabric with thread, it's threading ink through your skin. I am contemplating this while I plan my next tattoo. If I commit to one, then pain will be part of it. But, I beginning to think it is time.


7. Why don't more shows/movies make sex scenes funny? I mean, it's all grabbing the chick, lifting her up and slamming her back against the wall. HOW is that fun? HOW is that passion?

Now this clip right here, THIS IS FUNNY AND SEXY. (almost NSFW because of language but otherwise pretty tame)



Man o Man I loves me some Jason Stackhouse. He does the yoga! ;)

OK GOOD!!

Let's hear it people, give me your answers in the comments!!

Then my freak flag came flying out

So, hanging out with the group of women the other day. Having coffee, meeting new people. I now belong to a few groups comprised of local women. I found the groups on meetup.com. Which is very cool. Cause now, out of the groups, I have two special ladies I am happy and proud to call friends.

So, these groups of women are an eclectic mix. We are mostly transplants to the area. And I am a chatty, happy person and I do love these outings. Getting to know new people. But this is where it gets complicated.

Most people are:



and



Well, maybe not most people, but some people. As for me, well, I hide my freak flag quite well. I can blend with these crowds. Except last Sunday I didn't have my game face on. And my freak flag came flying out.

Ya see, I have a lot of interests. In fact, if you crack open my profile--under interests it says, "Pretty much everything, at least once." Also, when I am interested in something, I go all out. I get absorbed and a wee bit obsessional. Then the phase passes and I'm on to the next thing.

Then things like this conversation happens:

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Mrs. Hall: So Katy, where are you from?

Katy (being a new member of the group): Oh, I'm from Canada.

Mrs. Hall: Oh, that's interesting.

(we make some small chit chat, comparing Canada with her current location, we talk about her job, things are going well with the conversation, Katy's got herself a spark plug personality . . .which I enjoy ;)

THEN I START TO REVEAL A CORNER OF THE FREAK FLAG.

Mrs. Hall: I just downloaded a movie called "Ponty Pool". It's a Canadian Zombie film. Looks good . . . .

THEN

(I proceed to list off four or five foreign horror films I've seen lately. CAUSE FOREIGN HORROR FILMS IS MY LATEST OBSESSION)

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And I've seen:

Which is a stylish and smart movie about doppelgangers. It's awesome really.

I've also seen:

Which I loved so much I talked about it here.

Then there is Ponty Pool. Which I have not seen but am very excited to see. And Katy is from Canada.



sigh.

I think I'm going to hold on here. I mean, I've conquered putting myself out there. I've cultivated natural social abilities and have let them come to the forefront. I'm very proud of myself, proud that I can blend with the white bread and mayonnaise. I'm proud that I can derive satisfaction amongst the normal people of this earth.

Cause I am one of God's special people. All unique and crazy like. With unending positive energy and smiley goodness. And my freak flag is pretty. So I'm gonna let it fly. High and proud.

Now you! You go and fly yours too!

Mrs. Hall has mad hostess skills

This weekend I went to the spa, had a brunch with a new Mommy friend and hosted Bunco night. I gots mad hotess skills yo. It was so nice being so pretty and light. I loved filling everyone's drinks . . . making the rounds and chatting with the group. I loved wearing make up and dressing up. I loved it all.

Then, later today, I'm going to yoga with another friend. It's so pleasing to talk to some many other happy women. It so pleasing and makes my toes all twinkley.

But, all this social life is wearing my butt out.

Last night, seriously, there were 12 women at my house. They stayed for 4.5 hours. talking, talking, talking, talking, talking . . . I am not use to such excitement that late into the night. Well, they left at 9.30 but shut up i have two kids. That's late to me! I said shut up! I'm still cool!

THEN before the dozen women left, they all wanted to go out. SERIOUSLY I WAS DYING . . . i just couldn't do it!

And I wanted them out of my house!

Cause they kept talking and talking and hovering near the door! THEY had their coats on and everything.

SERIOUSLY!!! GET OUT!!



Well, it was fun. And I'm really making myself useful in the outside world. Making friends and laughing so much.

Ohh I laugh so easily now. At the least little thing.

I've never belly laughed so much in my life.

It's awesome ya'll!!

And now, I present my new theme song. Which makes me smile :)

Take care!

Put A Lid On It @ Yahoo! Video

Going off the rails

Ok. I'm going to keep this brief.

There is an neat amount of happy coming into my life. All because I am inviting more people in. And now people are bringing their husbands. It's crazy this thing I've started.



With some people though, there is sadness. Some have issues even. But, that is human nature. We all have different sides, different ways of speaking and saying who we are. I can blend my level of involvement. I don't have to be wild about everyone.



Mostly though, I am finding that people enjoy my company. For whatever reason. And fighting to be myself and calm with strangers is less of a fight lately.

And the weirdest side effect off all is this new and familiar feeling. I feel myself going off the rails. I am laughing everyday. Smiling more. Slightly funny jokes are now hilarious. I laugh so easy lately.

Who knew that making a few friends could make happy explode in my heart?

Pretty awesome I must say.



Take care everyone. Have a good weekend. Make small talk with strangers. And above all, get out there and cause some trouble!

And then I got drunk and hit on the waitress

So . . . I've been building a social life lately. One that includes real live friends. I mean, all you bloggy blog friends are quite nice. But lately I have been craving more.

My social life, so far, includes going to out to dinner with different women I meet. These women I know through my daughter's school. Our kids play together. If we get along, I have invited them out to dinner.

Much talking occurs during these dinners. My conversational style is rusty but getting better. Nothing deep. Well sometimes depth happens. I keep things light and positive. I remember not to read off the script in my head, to listen to what they say and ask follow up questions. I remember to be myself. I remember to smile because in all honesty, these dinners are nice. Fun even.

I am not sure what I am looking for though. I mean, woman are crazy and complicated. Also, I am introspective and a deep thinker. This attracts the same sort of woman. The problem is, deep often means dour. And easily offended. And all crazy sauce too.

Because introspection and higher education breeds poor social skills. Too much living in the head. I realized this a few years ago. So, I took it upon myself to change who I was.

And what I have done, in the last few years, is make myself simpler. I stopped my endless deep thoughts and over analysing everything. I am funnier and lighter. I laugh more and everything is much more awesome.

It's a balance though. A balance between flaming passion and a healthy love of the Muppets.

My last dinner mate did not have this passion. She is unhealthy and talked more than me. I had Hennessy. THAT my good people is an excellent drink to get stoned drunk while on you are not trying to listen to your dinner companion. I got really drunk by the way.

My dinner companion knew the waitress. They were old friends. The waitress was very pretty. Healthy. She talked in positive tones. She smiled. She talked with her hands and her hand gestures were much like mine. She was very cool. Had a cool belt with a faded skull on it. And I got in on some of that.

At one point I winked at her.

bah.

BAH!

Stupid Hennessy.



bah.

It's like a switch was flipped inside me. I was actively flirting with her. Getting all smooth and in control. This is no good. I am a grown up, I don't need to resort to that. I dialed it back a bit and seemed to genuinely connect with her. I hope so anyway. Cause she is healthy and much more my style. I think I want to be her friend.

SO. My quest for a sustainable social life continues in earnest this month. Despite the dinner companion's unhealthy jibber jabber, she is holding a Bunco night. She is pursing fun. Bunco is a dice game I believe. People go and laugh and talk about shows like Desperate Housewives and Jersey Shore. So I better bone up on those topics. I want to be able to contribute to the merriment after all.

Plus, the waitress will be there.

Wish me luck ;)