I Need Some Good Mojo

They say bad things come in threes.  Or is it celebrity deaths only?  I think it's all bad things so I am sticking with that.  Can they also come in multiples of threes?  Or like, say, three days/weeks/months/years in a row?

I need some good news.  Some good happenings.

On Mother's Day, I was walking with my daughter in sandals and in an unfamiliar part of town and while I was talking, I tripped over an uneven sidewalk and landed on my wrists and knees.  One knee split open and is taking forever to heal.  The other just bruised nicely.  My hands are another story.  They hurt like a sum'bitch.  I haven't had a chance to rest them at all.

I work in the flower shop, you may recall, and the past three weekends have been crazy what with First Saturday (Mayfest) in Frederick in which every merchant in town gave away a free flower in a "build-a-bouquet" progressive shopping deal.  Guess who opened all those boxes and cut in the thousands of flowers for the pleasure of being harassed all day for a fucking free flower from a Flower Shop.  Dudes, all those free flowers you have in your hot little hands?  Yeah, those ones right there...I touched every damn one of them but this here is our livelihood.  Shit here ain't free.  Go away.

Oy.

Then there was Mother's Day and the beginning of wedding season the next weekend.  Plus, a funeral.

Then yesterday, after spending about 5 hours pulling weeds in the hops yard (by hand, lest we break any of the new growth) and just about crying from the pain in my hands, I got hit by a deer heading home= on a twisty county road in rural Pennsylvania.  And I know I had to have been squeezing the crap out of that steering wheel as I was sure that poor thing was being dragged under my car.  So yeah, more hands drama.

I finally got to the only service station in the area about 10 minutes after the accident.  I did inspect the car at the scene and to my surprise saw the doe running off in to the woods.  It didn't seem too bad until I got out again at the station and saw all sorts of things that had the potential to fly off the car on the highway home.  A very nice truck driver helped me bungee up the car and tomorrow I go for the estimate and probably a rental car.

Also, I did not win Powerball.

Wait, that is three.  Maybe I'm due for an upswing.

Gingerly, walking

I tell ya.  I've never, ever experienced a situation like the one I had tonight.

Dude, I don't even know.

So...I have this friend who is under massive stress.  And also, I've been there.

This person means the world to me but his flat out, bat shit attack on me has made me wonder...I mean...do I fucking have to deal with this again??  I am reeling with the events of the evening.

So, what does that say about me?

How much am I supposed to accept?  I think I  know the answer.  I just don't want to make the decision to end it.  I think I have to, but it is not what I want.

Hey, Hey, What Can I Say?

I admit it.  I miss so many things about my former life.  No, not the drama and  the targeted abuse.  But I dearly miss my garden.  I had a fairly well established garden that was pretty "edible landscaped" inspired.  By the time I left there, I was well on my way to a decent asparagus patch, a prolific blueberry garden and all  the bees, birds and butterflies that wanted to hang out were welcome.

I suppose I should be happy that my ex's girlfriend is a gardener.  No, I don't suppose.  I am actually quite happy about that.  For how destructive he was (burn, baby, burn) I am glad he at least picked a woman who can carry on with what I started.  And run with it.  Lord knows, she needs all the distractions she can get.  By all accounts, she seems to understand what I started.

The flower shop job satisfies a bit of that.  Going to my friend's farm will hopefully do a better job at that this year.  Either way, it will never be the same.  It just won't.  I'm going to have to find a new way to satisfy that part of me.

Noisy

I've discovered something pretty darn wild.

Back when I lived in the woods, early on, I spent so much time paying attention to the sounds of the wild.  I remember soon after I moved in there, I almost called 911 after hearing what I thought was a woman being assaulted deep in the woods.  Once I paid attention, I realized it wasn't human at all and it and was moving at such a fast rate along the creek that it had to be some sort of mating call/ritual.  I'm thinking bobcat/fox.  I never did figure it out exactly.

The funny thing is, I didn't realize how much I really did not hear actual human voices there until I moved back in to town.  When I lived in the woods, I heard birds in unison. In town, I hear them one by one.  (Which helps me when I lie in bed on weekend mornings, identifying them by their unique voices.)  Same goes for squirrels.  I'm not quite at the point of naming the critters but when I do, they will have names like "Yappy", "Squeaky" and "Get off my porch ".

I told you about the bat in my house right?  I can't remember...but in 11 years in the woods, I never had a bat in the house.  In the city?  Yup.  That was a wild night.

So, back to voices.  I think the hardest part about moving back in to the city was getting used to the voices of people.  Just the ordinary conversations.  People walking by, talking.  The mrrmmmrrrmmmrr through the walls of the row houses.  The laughter, the screaming, the day-to-day unrelenting chatter.  And I thought I was going to lose my mind, just a little bit.

When Emily was living with me, she named the neighbors (Smoking Guy, Lady with 7 kids from 4 different fathers, Naked guy with open curtains, Grandma on the porch all day...) and I was fascinated by her insight because I was trying to tune them all out.  They were all Noisy Neighbors and I heard them all in unison.  Now I am learning to hear them one by one.

But something else...I've also learned to not hear them.  Today, my neighbor was out screaming his head off at another neighbor and I think it had been going on for about 5 minutes before the message got to my brain that there was a commotion and maybe I should pay attention.  It was sort of entertaining in a way.

A week ago I texted my daughter that she moved out and is missing all the excitement up here on the North end of town.  Firetrucks, ambulances, police cars, and she said "go out and see what is going on" and I was all "eh, I'm taking a shower but I hear some guy out there screaming about how much it hurts"  and she was all "Go investigate!" and I said, "nah, I'm naked and getting in the shower"  and then she said "perfect, you can cause another accident!"

She has my sense of humor...

(As it turns out, some 20 year old woman got in a fight with her baby daddy and when he got out of the car, she sped up, jumped the curb and hit him with her car then sped off.)

I didn't think I could get used to all the human voices when I first moved in here.  Turns out I can...and then some.

(His injuries don't appear to be life-threatening.)

Doppelganger

The other night, my daughter and I went to a bar that I never go to...it's been open for about a year and I think I have been there about 3 times.  Ever since she has moved out, she's been trying to decide what her new local bar will be.  (Seriously, she moved about 10 blocks south of here.  Pretty much all of downtown Frederick is your local bar but I'll play along.)   We hadn't been there for a minute and a half but, while I was talking to a friend of mine, I realized the bartender was, sort of, talking to me only he was calling me "Barbette".  Which, of course I don't answer to Barbette.  But I wanted a beer so I'm inclined to notice when the bartender is nearby and as soon as I turned my head to give him my order, I could see the disappointment that I was not, in fact, Barbette.  And then he told me how I was not Barbette (as if I may not know that) and then decided to get on with his job of gettin' me that beer.

About 45 minutes later, I'm walking back from the bathroom and a woman at the bar yells at me, "Hey Barbette!  Hi!"  And then when I look right at her she says (you guessed it) "Oh, you're not Barbette, but wow!  You look so much like her!"  And all I can think is damn, what sort of mom names a kid Barbette? And also?  Now, I have to see this woman who two separate people mistook me for in one hour long period in a bar in Downtown Frederick Maryland.

I have to now wonder about an incident that happened the previous weekend (the same day Red Beard thought I was pregnant).  I went to the flower shop where I work.  It was a Sunday and my friend Lisa was working the boutique side (the flower shop is not open on Sundays) and I knew she would be bored.  Plus I needed her to tell me I did not, in fact look pregnant.  Anyways, she had a spurt of customer activity so I hung out in case she needed me or needed to use the bathroom or what have you and this one woman came in and sort of started a conversation with me only it was kind of like a fishing expedition.  She finally said, "I know I know you from somewhere..." and then rattled off all the improbable ways she could know me.  Me: No, I am not in a band, No, I don't go to Hagerstown to watch bands.  No, I'm pretty sure that I was not involved in that...

And then she said, "I know we will see each other again someday".

That crazy Barbette.  I hope she is some smokin' hot 30 year-old babe that people keep calling "Liz".  But wouldn't that mess up her day if we ever meet and she finds out Liz is a 50 year-old mother of two?  Yeah, not likely, but this is my blog so I get to make up that ending.

So, here we go

Today, in the span of about 2 minutes I went from way up here to way down there.  That's a bit of an exaggeration and so you are warned.  It was a beautiful day today and I guilt-ed myself in to getting up and at 'em because all I did yesterday was lie around bra-less in sweat pants, watching sappy movies on the Hallmark Channel.  Prior to yesterday, I didn't know the Hallmark Channel existed.  But I was in that sort of mood.  Actually, I did go for an appointment at 9AM and then got a pedicure so it wasn't all a lost cause and okay, yeah...I was hungover and so the Hallmark Channel was the result of the remote being wayyy over there and I'd already taken my bra off and the blanket...the COUCH blanket was somehow positioned just so and, well, I'm sure you get the idea.

So, today.  I got up, all fresh from all the rest I got and realized I could not waste another day, another nice early March spring tease of a day, bra-less in my sweat pants on the couch.  I even decided to shave a few things.

I got out my old skinny jeans, a black t-shirt with sparkles on it (I am not a sparkles-type girl..this was a donated item), a black sweater and some super cool boots I own (read:comfortable, but also cute) and set out to do a few things but not a whole lot of anything.  I got about three blocks in and a dude did the 'ole, hey...you look good...

I did what any normal 50-year old would do which is to first check...are you talking to me??  Then the hahaha, of course you were, I do look good. And hey, thanks!  Swagger, swagger.

You know none of that happened, right?  Except the hey, you look good and the thanks.

A block and a half later, I saw one of Frederick's homeless, Red Beard and asked him about his health and made sure his cane was near-by and as I turned to continue on down the street he shouted at me "hey!  Your're pregnant??!!"

I am throwing away the black sweater.

Updating

So...where was I?  I removed the last post I wrote because it was such a downer.  Sure, I have downer moments but I don't want to give the impression that my life is in any way reflected in a negative way.  Every day can be whatever I want it to be.  That in itself can be a bit daunting, or at least it was when I started this whole process but I have mellowed and am now very comfortable with the new, day-to-dayness my life has become.

It's hard for me to believe that I have lived in my new rental house for over 20 months now.  There is something so carefree in it.  I take care of the basic needs the house has but when I have any problems, I call my most excellent landlord and dump the mess in his lap. I'm pretty sure I never wrote about how, when Hurricane Sandy swept through the area, my whole ceiling over my staircase caved in, after hours of me using every bucket and bowl to collect the water from the many leaks (and keeping my landlord up to date at the same time).  Quick tip that I learned from necessity: if you are ever faced with a leak that requires several buckets at once, to avoid going ape-shit insane from the variety and randomness of the drip...Drip...DRIP...drip..dripdrip...(arggghhhhh!), tear up an old sheet or towel and put a piece in the bottom of the bucket to muffle the sound.  It helped me to get a bit of sleep before the whole thing caved in.  That was a fun night.

The next morning though, my landlord was here with a shop-vac and a roofer was on the way.  So, that was cool.

My oldest daughter has been living with me since she has returned from the army, four years earlier than expected.  She has had a rough time of it during this transition and we have had our ups and downs as roommates but she seems to be pulling herself up and out of it and has made a new plan, one that I think will be very good for her.  She has found half a house to share and will be moving out mid-March.  I'm happy for her and will miss her.  But she'll only be about 10 blocks away so we will still be able to hang out a lot.

If you know me at all, you'll know that I have a thing for puzzles.  Always have.  Now I am beginning to understand the reasoning behind it all.  I like for the pieces to all fall in to place.  I like to restore order from chaos.  I like to see the big picture and have it make some sense.

I finally feel like I am on my way there.