H is for Hope

six days with all provisions on my back used to sound adventure-some.  Now, ‘crazier ‘en hell’.

i shall miss my cats, friends and stinking home.

love,
h

two of my roommates spent an entire day (I assume) cleaning our nasty apartment.  I came in, sat on the couch and acknowledged nothing.  Fairly soon, I realized everyone was staring at me.  Without turning my head, my eyes rolling from one roommate, to the next, and finally to the other unassuming roommate, who I had arrived with, said, "oh, it’s clean!!"  To which I promptly looked around bewildered, thinking, "was it dirty?"  Our fearless leader, the alpha female looks at me, and my instinct tells me to run.  "You don’t even notice a difference, do you"  I reply, "I guess I just wasn’t raised to appreciate cleanliness."  To which, I have never lived down.  The truth is, I was and I wasn’t, raised, that is. 
This admission of loving cleanliness is dedicated to all of the family, roommates, b/f’s, cats, dogs, and Murtew that have had and presently live with me.  Note to those presently:  you have no idea how far I’ve come.  Now that the entire first floor of our house is covered in soot from the ‘environmental’ chimney guy, I see the light!  Clean is good, dirty feet, not so good.  Like many expectations in our society, cleaning is one that is not closest to my hearts desire, like working out.  But clean is.  And healthy, statuesque (albeit short) body is….  Could it be that I am learning something?  This may appear a shallow example, well, I won’t argue that.  But really, right now I’m sitting in a house I’m not sure I should breathe without protection in.
In two weeks I am thirty, and my goal is to settle the dichotomy within myself.  Last night, during a fit of insomnia, my goal was to be an infommercial star, so realize, I am fluid in my ‘goals’.  However, I would like to adopt the zen philosophy if it can be done now, do it.  Or something like that.  Referring to tasks I could muddle over for a week that could be done in a five minute intentional act.  If it is a dirty house, so be it.  We live comfortably enough, a bit of soot damage is good for me !?.  If I can’t sleep due to the amount of animal hair in my sheets and bug bites on my legs, wash the f’ing sheets and remember bug spray. 
This, however is not the official goals of 30′dom, which I shall explore a bit more before unfolding.  They will be made with the full acknowledgement that it is much like new year’s & birthday combined.  I can state the top of list:
To be more grateful, always.

With your therapist, that is.  I’m listening to the ‘Accidental Tourist’ per KB’s favorite books lists and find many parallels to my own situation.   I’m in ‘Accidental Therapy’.  I decided to see a career counselor and five sobbing sessions I’ve decided I don’t think having conversations out loud with my inner judge (i.e. a tapestry pillow) is helping.  "Tell it to the pillow," I hear, and I’m not sure whether to laugh or cry, but since it’s therapy, guess which I choose.  The only really honest thing I think I admitted to wanting to change is my loathable tendency towards the passive-aggressive.  Which, is how I got out of making another appointment.  I’ll be out of town, for a long time.  I think it would take me years and a few drinks with this woman to open up.  I don’t feel that is realistic.
I felt like I was eating at Long John Silver’s for lunch, but alas, it was my very own kitchen!  I’ve come to love my garden harvest but also slightly worried at the amount of squash that is being produced.  It’s gluttonous.  After a few healthy meals, I made a pact with myself to take the health food away from the squash.  Which is where www.allrecipes.com helped.  "Summer Squash Puffs"  yielded around 30 crunchy deep fried heart attacks.  Very yummy!  I love my big frying pan.
I’ve made a disaster of the kitchen, I’m trying to avoid the eyes of the hairballs that are taking over my floor and I just saw a flea on the framed picture of Lucy. 

so!  back to blogging…
the balance between the real conversation and the blogging has stilted me.   As so the Director pointed out tonight. 
I had a dream of holding on to my best friend from childhood in the midst of a tornado and felt completely safe.  I have a tendency toward violent dreams and this is the first I can remember comfort in.  Seems like a revolution for me.
Also, had a wonderful night with Superstar, and of course friends earlier, but somehow, I can talk and listen to Superstar like a supercalafrajalisticexpeealadocious ice cream.  And I rarely mispell and don’t care.