Monday, August 30, 2004


So finally, after trying a kajillion different free cd ripping devices, I , or rather E, has me able to rip tunes from my cd library to load up onto the Dell DJ. Once we got it working, she went and ordered the companion Dell DJ, one for her identical to mine. Wont it be funny when she grabs mine or I grab hers by mistake.


So we will be two styling dykes with hers and hers 20 gig Dell DJ players...ahhhhhhh...

Sunday, August 29, 2004


The Dell DJ is up and running. Now I have the daunting task of converting music from my cd collection to upload to the mp3 player (aka Dell DJ).

20 gigs worth...good thing I have a four day weekend every weekend.

I love me some gadgets.

Saturday, August 28, 2004

Early presents

My birthday is still two weeks from today, but I got a present, or a series of presents early, last night, E just can't hold her pee.

She got me a Dell Jukebox, which is a near cousin to the iPod. 20 gig music vault, in short, it holds about 9000 tunes.

And now for the bad news, seems she might have to reformat the hard drive so there is room to install the software to get it up and going. So much for earliness.

Sunday, August 22, 2004


I know there is no answer other than "because", but I still find myself asking the question.

I had a much too long conversation today with my wasband, at much too high an emotional volume, and it leaves me feeling as if there has been no progress made in my personal evolution. I still am capable of feeling hatred toward him. Had we been in the same room having this conversation, I would have struck him with a forcefull blow from my open hand across his face.

I am glad we were not in the same room, but is the intent a strain on my karma?

I sent a folder of pics home with my son and in the folder was also a letter he had written me years ago. Whether it was before or after his affair, I am uncertain, but it had expressed a sentiment that to me, was a lie for more than the time of his fidelity. He just does not get that his affair negated everything.

The hurt and pain he caused me was as raw today as when it was a fresh wound.

I made an effort in my head to discuss this with E at dinner, and I just could not do it. I could not vocalize the pain and hurt that still lie dormant(or not so) within my soul from what that man did to me. Is it that he makes me feel vulnerable? Inadequate? Something less?

I just don't know where this comes from when it hits me and it really is irritating.

He was so pissed off that I sent that letter back to him and he had the nerve to question my motives in doing so.

That really pissed me off. Why does he think he has the right to question anything I do or say? His argument was that I could have quite simply thrown it away. I told him no, I needed to purge his energy from my life and my living space, and that frankly, it was easier to leave it in a folder that was going to him then to walk it over to the trash. He just did not grasp the whole I need to exorcise his energy thing. And, I made it clear that just as easily, he could have just thrown it away upon discovery. Why am I to make the noble sacrifice but not him? Fucking double standard.

I went on to explain to him that this is why I am so hot to get a new car. Don't I know that the Jeep has easily another 100k miles before it dies? Don't I like not having a car payment?

Of course I know these things.

I also know that it is making me crazy, FUCKING CRAZY, to walk out the door each day and get into his car!

I am not sure all the meditating and yoga in the world can do anything to reverse the strain on my sanity. I might go tomorrow to the VW showroom. Of course that brings up a whole new can of worms. Like the doubt that at nearly fucking 40 I can get approved for a car on my own.



Thursday, August 19, 2004


The screener woman was very professional, and while my bag was still in the x-ray machine I asked her what time it was. There was plenty of time, so I volunteered to just take my bag back to the car. Of course, I could not do that before it was hand searched.

Screener lady: You have several options. 1) You can throw the offending items into the trash.
Me: Ummm, that is more than $1000 worth of work tools, and they are not going into the trash.
SL: 2) You can mail the offending items to your home or your travel destination.
Me: Well, I have to be at work in less than two hours, so what other options do I have?
SL: 3) You can go to the sign in counter and see if the agent will hold the offending items for you until your flight leaves.
Me: Well, I am not flying anywhere,
SL: Ma'am, you still cannot take the offending items past the check point.
Me: Yes, I understand, as I said already, I can take my bag back to the car.
SL: But the agent will hold it for you.

Like I am going to leave my scissors with anyone when there is adequate time to just go to the car. I explained to her again the value and necessity of the "offending items", and she gave me the oh-you-trust-us-with-your-child-but-not-with-some-dumb-scissors look.

Finally she handed over my bag and we were escorted back to the security point. Then as we were going across the parking lot, my angel says, with scissor case in hand, "No way is this $1000."

Me: Don't open the case.
Angel: [opens the case anyway]
Me: Be. Very. Careful.

Three pair of scissors fell from the case and that was all it took to open the floodgate of tears that was the amalgamation of the last three weeks.

It passed rather quickly, then at work I assessed the damage, and just one pair, my most used favorite pair of scissors, was determined to be somewhat fucked up. I will send them in for servicing and hopefully they will survive.

I have since fully detoxed, I think, and if not, will definitely fully detox at the beach in Galveston on Sunday.

The boy has left the building

I was going to mention this last night, but actually, I was still in a bit of a detox funk.

We got to the airport with just about the entire suggested two hours early in tact. As I left the car, rather than grabbing my book, my phone, and my ID, I just grabbed my entire work bag. Can you imagine what that meant?

Ultimately it meant I was chosen by the airline for further scanning.

As we are going through the screening the first time, my bag inside the x-ray machine, it occurred to me that my scissor case was inside.

More later, off to yoga...

Wednesday, August 18, 2004

Just this. Here now.

The following is from "Awakening the Buddhist Heart" by Lama Surya Das:


Take a breath; take a break. Cultivate the power of the present moment by entering into the holy now.

To do this meditation, just make yourself comfortable. Lie, sit, stand. It doesn't matter.

Breathe in slowly through the nostrils.

As you breathe in, repeat this inner mantra to yourself: "Just this, here now."

As you breathe out, repeat again: "Just this. Here now." Use this mantra as an inner form of prayer or chant of contemplation and meditation.

Inhale...Just this, here now.

Exhale...Just this, here now.

There is nothing but this moment. This sacred moment. Just this, here now.

Let everything else subside, and just go with the natural flow of things, left just as they are. Trust it.

There is no greater miracle than this. Just this. Here now.

There is nowhere else to go, nowhere else to be than just this, here now.

This is the moment we've been waiting for. This is the great crossroads of past and future. This is the goal of our journey. Just this, here now.

There is nothing extra to get rid of and nothing missing that we need to find--just this glorious, radiant, abundant

vRight here is how we find ourselves, just as we are. Just this.

Right here is where eternity and infinity converge in the present moment. Right here is the gateway to infinity, to the timeless. Just this. Here now.

This is the eternal moment, the mystical instant, the timeless time beyond time and space--yet totally, precisely present. Just this. Here now.

Don't miss it.

Tuesday, August 17, 2004

Still way too much in my head

What options are out there to do something of merit? I am not sure exactly where my mind is at the moment, but I am feeling as if I should be moving toward something in a grand way. Is it something by way of volunteering? Is it something for a career path? Is there a significant "thing" I can grasp?

I have been the past two or so years consciously on a path toward personal balance. I am not sure if spiritual fully describes it. I think there is something to the idea of the greater good, and I know there is something I am supposed to be doing. and I can only hope that I am in some small way doing it allready.

Being in my head this much is something akin to exhausting.

A New Career

How does one decide? Does something sound good nd you just do it?

The prospect of returning to school has been on the horizon and I just do not know what to do about it. There are things that are appealing about it and equally, things that are apalling about it. You can only be in your head about it so much.

I hate making decisions.

Monday, August 16, 2004

Making a sour face

I'm sitting here eating a bowl of blueberries and did I just get a few sour ones. The ones we got this past weekend are certainly not as good as the ones we got the previous weekend. What a difference a week makes!

The mission today will be to get Connor to the eye doctor and then to Eye Masters for glasses. If that all goes smoothly, I will take him out to JCP to get some clothes for school. If we do not make it there today, we definitely will tomorrow.

I suppose I need to check in with Western Union to see if his father sent the money he said he would for Connor to return on Wednesday with unaccompanied minor status. The airline charges $40 for this babysitting, and I don't feel it is necessary, though his dad does. I told him to send the money and if I get it in time, meaning if he actually sends it, then I will take care of it. He was supposed to call back and confirm he sent it, but that was last Thursday. I think I have already taken on that toxicity enough. Inhale...2...3...4...and release...

Sunday, August 15, 2004

Disconcerting dreams

As I was coming out of sleep this morning, I was having weird dreams. I was pretty young and there were many people I know now who were there with me. Beyond that I just cannot grasp/ I was going to write it all down as soon as I was awake. I can remember thinking that. Then the dogs were disturbed by something and theor barking jolted me out of it.


Saturday, August 14, 2004

7 AM?

Who in their right mind is up at 7 AM on Saturday morning?

Anyone who wants a shower before the city cuts off the water for some work they are doing in the neighborhood. Also, anyone who hears the yard boy with the weed wacker. It seems we are first on his list every other week. I love it.

So by noon time, I had already been to meditation and yoga as well as to the kolache place and starbucks, all before hitting the farmer's market.

At the farmer's market, we got some more blueberries because the ones we got last week were so divine. In addition to them, I picked up strawberries and cantaloupe, plantains, bananas, garlic, cilantro and poblano peppers to stuff.

I am going to experiment with the plantains and try to fry them up for eating with a chimichuri dipping oil. This is an experiment all around, and as is the norm, I anticipate some yummyliciousness to spontaneously occur.

I really like getting the garlic at the farmer's market because it is fresh and cheap. But more endearing is that it comes five heads in a bag for a buck and it is all paper peeled. Little mess for using. And did I mention cheap?
All this produce today for less than ten bucks.

The austerity plan is working.

Friday, August 13, 2004



Tuesday, August 10, 2004

Feeling shifting

In yoga this morning, Kathryn said, "When a feeling comes up during your practice, whether it be here in class, or at home, stay with it and feel it to set it free. Don't suppress it."

It was an odd moment of realization for me, for this is what I try to encourage. It made me cognizant of a subtle shift.

During the six week session prior to the break for the month of June, someone brought up 9/11 and that she had just started class that day. She was recounting how class was at that moment in time. After this was discussed briefly, Kathryn asked us all to take a moment and consider all the good that happened on the planet at that same time. Somehow this offered me a sense of balance. This was either the end of April or sometime in May.

Since that class, doing yoga in class has brought up a profound sadness within me. I will be holding a pose, and tears just begin to stream down my face. There really is no explanation, and if I consider the general sadness I feel, it is perhaps in relation to 9/11. Other than a tragic day of terrorist attacks, it is my day of birth. In my opinion, quite a joyous occasion. This coming 9/11 is the fortieth anniversary of my birth. A milestone in itself.

After the reminder to feel whatever comes up, I noticed that the sadness is no longer present as it has been the past few months. Bueno. I like it.

Monday, August 09, 2004

Is it morning yet?

We went out yesterday to shoot some pool with the boys around 3 or so. Then we went to have a slice of pizza, and from there we dropped T off at his dad's and then came home. I could not keep my eyes open, so I went in to take a nap. I think that might have been around 7.

I was up near midnight to relieve myself of the rest of the beer I drank, but went right back to sleep. Shortly before 8 this morning I was awake. I mean really awake.

I have not had that lengthy a sleep in quite a long time. I'll take it because I really feel great.

We were up fairly early yesterday too, for a Sunday. We went on the breakfast run to get a kolache and then a chai at Starbucks. Then we went to the farmer's market. I got poblanos to make chile rellenos, and also some potatoes, onions, plums, and the biggest and sweetest blueberries I have ever seen.

The last time I ate blueberries, I had gone out to the dump to pick them with Mrs. Ames. I was about 14 or 15 and Mrs Ames was in her 60s I would guess, and something less than sane. There were wild blueberry bushes in patches out off the main dump road, of that I was certain, but a morning out with Mrs. Ames was a real chore.

I still remember hearing my dad urge me to go, "Oh, go on, we can have them for lunch after they have cooled in the fridge a bit. You know you like them."

The blue berries were just ripe, I think one more night and they would have been ravaged by the bears. i think we picked about 10 quarts before we were through.

When we returned to the campground, we washed them off in the utility sink and some went straight to zip bags for freezing. Mrs. Ames told me there would be a second and maybe a third crop of them this summer and if we got enough, she would make jam. I told her my dad would eat these daily until they were gone, so getting enough was not very likely.

Once I was done putting them away, I saw my dad behind the counter getting lunch ready. He made us sandwiches of something, and we each had a bowl of blueberries waiting wit a nice dollop of sour cream and a sprinkling of brown sugar.

Funny, but I just saw this same "recipe" in a magazine as a healthy coll summer treat.

I am going to dig in.

Saturday, August 07, 2004

Collective sigh of relief heard round the world.


Yes, that is the sound. It seems the boy has decided it is best to return to VA and live with dad. I told him I will make more effort to participate/mediate from here. I need to move toward guiding his dad through fatherhood without telling him what to do outright. I suppose I need to get a little devious. Manipulative. Two traits I have basically left behind, however, his dad is the most easily manipulated man in the world as I Am His Weakness.

Maybe that will become a new idea for a book in itself somehow. I will be sure to well document the struggle, no, journey.

Not too much else going on in these parts. We have entered a period of tight finances and austerity, but I think it is good for us. Nothing like some home together down time.

Life, is good.

Thursday, August 05, 2004

On the fence

Seems the boy has considered his options wholly. I think he is back on the side of returning to his dad's for school.

Tuesday, August 03, 2004


New schedule in effect. Fourth consecutive day off. Liking it.

Lather. Rindse. Repeat.

Monday, August 02, 2004

So far, so good...sort of.

Well, Connor has been here 5 days, and before the end of the first day, he began his campaign to stay for school. I am so conflicted about what to decide.

Responsible mother Maxine knows it really is in his best interest to be here. The trouble with this is that when he was here three years ago for the school year, the same thing happened when he went to visit his dad. He missed him and wanted to stay when he went to visit for the summer. He was told then that whatever he decided was where he would need to finish out his school days as moving back and forth was not a good plan. He picked Dad's.

His arguments range from missin g me to liking the dogs, to dad being strict and mean. But by far, his best argument is that dad does not always put him first. In addition to that, several months ago, the school suggested that Connor might have ADD. His dad has yet to make a Dr. appointment for further testing. Also several months ago, Connor lost his glasses. His dad never took him for new ones.

Enter into the picture selfish likes her life as it is Maxine. Need I explain that any further?

So last night I picked up the phone to begin a potentially less than rational adult discussion with his father. I was expecting shouting, or resigned relief. What I got was a temporarily out of service message. Yes, we can get a new Mustang, but we have trouble paying the phone bill on time, chronically.