Late Fragment.

I'm Pulling Out of Here to Win.

It seems that 2008 has been roundly panned, in the press, on the blogs, on some chat boards, and around my office.  And with good reason too.

It's been a suck-ass year.  Suck-ass things have happened.  The economy went to hell (or maybe just further to hell).  Work got un-fun.  I was set aside by what I thought was my closest friend. n My car got totalled, and it hurt.  I struggled with feeling jealous and petty and spiteful.  I fought with my mother.

Good things have happened too, make no mistake.  Inspector lives with me now, and that is a very very good thing.  I got (finally) a fat raise.  I have very good friends who make me laugh and do outrageous and fun things with me.   My daughter, though a challenge, is the absolute joy of my life.  My friend, G, who wasn't with us for a while is slowly but surely making her way back to us   I am blessed beyond measure.  And I am smart enough to know it. 

Still, I am looking forward to 2009.  And ready to stick my tongue out to this year as we leave it in our wake. 

You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch.

It always hits me like a ton of bricks, this holiday season.  One minute, it's just a normal day and then boom!  It's Christmas.  And if it's Christmas, that means it's almost one more year since Jen has been gone.

Seven years. 

She has been gone seven years.

My niece was an infant when she died.  I remember my sister-in-law thrusting her, 3 months old, into my arms as I sat, shell-shocked. 

Pixie was still with us.  I remember her climbing up onto the bed with me, licking my tears off my cheeks.

I was married to Larry.  He was a trouper that week, managing flights and rental cars and trying to understand how he could help me. 

I remember the morning of the funeral, her husband looking at me and saying "I don't know what to do now.  For the past week, I've been trying to get to here.  What do I do now?"  And I remember thinking that I had no earthly idea.

I still don't. 

What do we do now? 

My life has changed so much since then.  I've had a child, gotten divorced, stopped working and then started again, gotten engaged (again!), and mostly just kind of gotten on with the business of my life.

You know what I haven't done?  I haven't forgotten.  Not one bit.  I still hear her laugh, and smell her perfume.  I still can picture her crooked smile, her twinkling eyes, her fesity-ness.  I remember how tough she was and how good she was and how brave she was and how smart she was.  I remember how much I loved her and respected her.  I remember how much it meant to me to be her best friend, and how easy it was that she was mine.

I miss her. 

And I'd give almost anything to have had more time with her.

I wasn't ready to say good-bye.  I'm still not.

Little Miss Magic.

My little girl sleeps through the night, in panties no less, and wakes up dry.

My little girl woke up this morning, ate her breakfast, and then went and got herself dressed for school all by herself.

My little girl wants her ears pierced.

My little girl read a speech about Salvador Dali at the school spring concert the other night.

My little girl isn't so little any more.

I Feel Like Garbo.

I don't want to talk about it any more.  It doesn't get us anywhere.  He thinks I am being unreasonable.  All I know is that I cannot stand being in my skin right now.  I am no fun.  I hate being around myself. 

I don't want to feel this way. 

Just once in my life, I would like to feel like I really was enough.

I'm Just a Lonely Pilgrim.

I am unhappy.  That much is evident.

At work, I am overworked, overstressed, overdone.  Certain people who I work with like to play the blame game and they like to do it in secret.  Yesterday, someone I work with sent an email blaming me for a wide swath of things.  She did not send it to me, but the person to whom she sent it forwarded it to me.  First, I was not to blame, not for any of the things that were wrong with the file.  Second, what kind of person feels the need to point fingers that way, behind someone's back?  (I keep thinking of that line from some movie... "Excuse me, but it seems my back bumped into your knife.")  I spent all day fixing the the things that were wrong with the file, even though they were not my issues.  I did not get a thank you when my hard work led to successful resolution.  This is not the first time this person has done this.  I doubt it will be the last.  Nonetheless, I've sent her an email telling her I need to talk to her, and I am at least going to tell her that I got her email yesterday and that it's cowardly to talk behind someone's back.

Oh, and we're going to try to do 79 cases between now and June 6th.  The largest number of files we've ever gotten through in a month is 53.  And now we're going to do 79 in three weeks?  Insane. 

The personal situation remains much the same.  I'm trying to pretend that everything is fine.  But I am brittle and short-tempered and cranky.  I am curling up into a little ball.  I am withdrawn and remote.  And I don't seem to be able to stop it.  I was thinking this morning about this one time, when Inspector and I were in Bed Bath and Beyond and he was looking at this calendar and I got really upset with him because I felt like he was longing for his ex... and I remember him telling me that yes, he had memories with her, but that he and I would create our own memories.  And here I am, wondering if that's ever going to happen... I am tired of feeling like my life is on hold, tired of feeling like I am in a holding pattern, tired of feeling like I am ready to move forward and not being able to. 

I cannot remember the last time I felt so sad. 

I Said, "No, Won't You Come Home to Me?"

Inspector has a job offer.  This should be good news, and yet, somehow, it isn't.  I expect that he is going to turn it down, notwithstanding the fact that he's been talking about taking a job at WalMart or Home Depot or anywhere to get himself down here. 

The pros for this job?  The job itself is located less than 20 miles from my house, and a couple of blocks from my current place of employ.  We could carpool to work, which seems great with $4 gas looming.  It pays reasonably well... enough so that he wouldn't be taking a huge cut in pay.  When presented with a list of the kinds of things he might be doing there, he told me he felt "good-ish".  The dress code is casual and the owner of the company clearly has no issue with Inspector's hair.   And you know what they say about birds and hands and bushes, right?

The cons?  He would not be doing exactly what it is he does now, and which he claims is the "thing that I like doing".  It's a start-up, so there's no hierarchy and no track record and the facilities are, at best, kind of rough.  Oh, and apparently, thinking about leaving his current job makes his eye twitch (or his whole face, depending on the day).

My dad and I talked about this a little this weekend, while walking on the beach, and my dad's take is "Of course he's freaked out.  It's a huge change.  He knows he is good at what he does now.  He doesn't know if he'll be good at this.  It's scary to make that kind of change.  I was terrified when I left Penn."  But I think my father has supposed that Inspector will take this job.  And this time, I think my father is wrong.

I do not think that Inspector will take this job.

I am trying to keep my mouth shut about all of this.  Because ultimately, it has to be his decision.   

You Can Call Me Any Any Time.

Inspector, after fighting the good fight, has finally consented to get a cell phone.  Since I recently got a Blackberry, I activated my old cell phone, and added a new line to my Verizon account.  The phone is sitting on his front porch right now, waiting for him to get home.

I'm tempted to give you all the number, just so you can all call to say hi.

With Silver Bracelets on Her Wrists and Flowers in Her Hair.

I've been wedding planning in my head, even though we don't have a wedding date.  One of two things will happen.  Either this will be the world's longest engagement, or as Inspector originally posited, we will get married the first weekend that's convenient after he moves down.  At this point, I'm okay with either, although I have competing interests... I want to be his wife as soon as is practical.  And I want to have a fabulous party.

When I went up there a couple of weeks ago, I was reading bridal magazines on the plane, and found there the idea of attaching a locket to the bouquet.  I loved that idea and decided I'd carry a photo of my best friend down the aisle that way whenever we did get married.  But then I thought, "why just her?"  Why couldn't I make a sport out of finding interesting lockets and then have them all made into a charm bracelet that I can wear on our wedding day (and later too, I suppose).  And then I can walk down the aisle with all the people we've loved and who have loved us, but who aren't with us anymore.  I can have Jen and my Nana, my Zeyda and my Poppy.  Hell, I can even have my Pixie-dog.  And Inspector's grandparents too. 

Inspector thinks this idea is totally morbid.  I think it's romantic.  I love the idea of shopping for the lockets, choosing the photos, having the bracelet made.  I love the idea of feeling like I have all those people with me when I marry him.  I love the idea of being able to carry them with me after that day.  Somehow it feels like they'll be witnessing our marriage, blessing it.  And that every time I would wear it afterward, I'd have my own personal greek chorus around my wrist.

And while I hate the thought that I would someday add more "charms" to the bracelet, I love the idea of someday handing this down to my daughter.

I'm a sap.  Or a ghoul.  Or maybe a little bit of both.

And You Its Only Seed.

Did you ever wonder what a hundred roses looks like?

It looks pretty good to me.

Thank you, sweetheart, for going totally overboard yet again.  I love you.

U and I Engaged in a Kiss.

Happy Birthday, sweetheart.

See you soon.

And stop shaking that big box.