I'm wondering right now how long I can hide out in here. Jacob asked me to come out and help him while he puts up the Christmas lights (not to turn on for a while but it's nice to get them up before it's too cold to do it properly) and when I looked out the window as I pulled my coat on I could see him standing on the sidewalk talking to Ben, who is here for a week before heading back out on the road again (I was pre-warned he was home). I really loathe the idea of going out there but they look amicable enough. Maybe Ben trying to crash Thanksgiving softened Jacob a little.
Then again, his hackles look raised. Kind of like when Butterfield spots a squirrel.
Should I liveblog the inevitable fistfight or do you think Jacob will be able to check his temper here on church property?
Let's wait and see.
Tuesday, 16 October 2007
I have three minutes to post.
I'm playing church secretary this afternoon, slacking off on the job, because really, typing and filing takes little time, I even called someone to fix the front gate that you have to be herculean to close (only Jacob can do it, naturally) and now I'm eating a pear and stealing some laptop time until the mail shows up.
Jacob is down the hall humming a happy tune in his office. Sam is sick today along with the usual secretary (Who is new, I call her Miss Moneypenny because of her unrequited adoration for my husband, despite her being almost old enough to be his grandmother), it's a quiet day here. This morning therapy sucked and you wouldn't know Jacob and I aren't really speaking but he has all the confidence in the world that we'll sort it out later and for now he's simply happy I am close by while he gets some work done. I keep sending him pornographic links and he keeps telling me to knock it off.
Best of both worlds, if you don't count the hairbrush I threw at him earlier. But that's how it goes, and here comes the postman. Which means I have invoices and distractions! Always good. Bye!
Jacob is down the hall humming a happy tune in his office. Sam is sick today along with the usual secretary (Who is new, I call her Miss Moneypenny because of her unrequited adoration for my husband, despite her being almost old enough to be his grandmother), it's a quiet day here. This morning therapy sucked and you wouldn't know Jacob and I aren't really speaking but he has all the confidence in the world that we'll sort it out later and for now he's simply happy I am close by while he gets some work done. I keep sending him pornographic links and he keeps telling me to knock it off.
Best of both worlds, if you don't count the hairbrush I threw at him earlier. But that's how it goes, and here comes the postman. Which means I have invoices and distractions! Always good. Bye!
Monday, 15 October 2007
Bows and arrows.
I think it's time you walked this lonely road
All on your own
It's your cold day in the sun
Looks like your bleeding heart has already won
I wish I could take it away
And save you from yourself
You get so lost inside your head
Like no one else
Are you looking for someone to blame?
Did you blame me all along?
In the interest of being honest, of not sugarcoating life, Jacob ran. Let's call a spade a spade.
It'll be alright, baby girl.
Once I got past the shattering surprise and then the rage, complete with a mental plan to burn down his truck in the garage (no worries, I didn't, but I thought about it.) I realized it was going to be okay. He needs time sometimes. Living with me isn't easy, the grass isn't greener over here on Bridget's lawn. Plus it was a safe trip. Three nights, fully chaperoned thanks to Erin and Joel, who both attend the same conference and didn't leave Jacob alone for a second. No, Sophie wasn't there. And surprisingly Jacob cut it short, missing me, missing the kids, missing life as it is becoming a lot more stable and hoping he didn't fuck it up by going.
He didn't, but I did get an extra therapy session out of my abandonment issues and I had some trust issues with Jacob's timing. He wasn't planning to go, and hell, he held my hand for ten hours straight so tightly I woke up repeatedly the night he found out a whole new round of mindblowing Coleisms that I had somehow suppressed. So when he abruptly decided to attend and was packing the next morning I admit I was stung by it.
I shouldn't have been. He's legendary for just picking up and going and somehow still he managed to corral PJ and Andrew and August to trade off babysitting/support duties without telling me. Some would say he needs therapy to stay put when the going gets tough, even though his therapy is prayer and isolation and travel. A new latitude to see things in a new light. I knew this going into the marriage. And please remember the going is always tough here. There is no break from dealing with what we deal with. What I deal with. The progress is visible but sometimes bad times are simply that: bad times.
He came through the door in a whirlwind of blonde and navy blue backpack and his satchel full of books and notebooks and dumped it all on the kitchen floor and dropped to his knees with his arms out wide for me on Sunday afternoon and I flew into those arms laughing with relief, because he came home.
For some reason, I really never expected him to.
All on your own
It's your cold day in the sun
Looks like your bleeding heart has already won
I wish I could take it away
And save you from yourself
You get so lost inside your head
Like no one else
Are you looking for someone to blame?
Did you blame me all along?
In the interest of being honest, of not sugarcoating life, Jacob ran. Let's call a spade a spade.
It'll be alright, baby girl.
Once I got past the shattering surprise and then the rage, complete with a mental plan to burn down his truck in the garage (no worries, I didn't, but I thought about it.) I realized it was going to be okay. He needs time sometimes. Living with me isn't easy, the grass isn't greener over here on Bridget's lawn. Plus it was a safe trip. Three nights, fully chaperoned thanks to Erin and Joel, who both attend the same conference and didn't leave Jacob alone for a second. No, Sophie wasn't there. And surprisingly Jacob cut it short, missing me, missing the kids, missing life as it is becoming a lot more stable and hoping he didn't fuck it up by going.
He didn't, but I did get an extra therapy session out of my abandonment issues and I had some trust issues with Jacob's timing. He wasn't planning to go, and hell, he held my hand for ten hours straight so tightly I woke up repeatedly the night he found out a whole new round of mindblowing Coleisms that I had somehow suppressed. So when he abruptly decided to attend and was packing the next morning I admit I was stung by it.
I shouldn't have been. He's legendary for just picking up and going and somehow still he managed to corral PJ and Andrew and August to trade off babysitting/support duties without telling me. Some would say he needs therapy to stay put when the going gets tough, even though his therapy is prayer and isolation and travel. A new latitude to see things in a new light. I knew this going into the marriage. And please remember the going is always tough here. There is no break from dealing with what we deal with. What I deal with. The progress is visible but sometimes bad times are simply that: bad times.
He came through the door in a whirlwind of blonde and navy blue backpack and his satchel full of books and notebooks and dumped it all on the kitchen floor and dropped to his knees with his arms out wide for me on Sunday afternoon and I flew into those arms laughing with relief, because he came home.
For some reason, I really never expected him to.
Sunday, 14 October 2007
Saturday, 13 October 2007
Thursday, 11 October 2007
Not the song to be singing while you pack, Jake.
She can kill with a smile
She can wound with her eyes
She can ruin your faith with her casual lies
And she only reveals what she wants you to see
She hides like a child
But she's always a woman to me
She can lead you to live
She can take you or leave you
She can ask for the truth
But she'll never believe you
And she'll take what you give her as long as it's free
She steals like a thief
But she's always a woman to me
Oh, she takes care of herself
She can wait if she wants
She's ahead of her time
Oh, and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind
She will promise you more
Than the Garden of Eden
Then she'll carelessly cut you
And laugh while you're bleedin'
But she'll bring out the best
And the worst you can be
Blame it all on yourself
Cause she's always a woman to me
She is frequently kind
And she's suddenly cruel
She can do as she pleases
She's nobody's fool
But she can't be convicted
She's earned her degree
And the most she will do
Is throw shadows at you
But she's always a woman to me
She can wound with her eyes
She can ruin your faith with her casual lies
And she only reveals what she wants you to see
She hides like a child
But she's always a woman to me
She can lead you to live
She can take you or leave you
She can ask for the truth
But she'll never believe you
And she'll take what you give her as long as it's free
She steals like a thief
But she's always a woman to me
Oh, she takes care of herself
She can wait if she wants
She's ahead of her time
Oh, and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind
She will promise you more
Than the Garden of Eden
Then she'll carelessly cut you
And laugh while you're bleedin'
But she'll bring out the best
And the worst you can be
Blame it all on yourself
Cause she's always a woman to me
She is frequently kind
And she's suddenly cruel
She can do as she pleases
She's nobody's fool
But she can't be convicted
She's earned her degree
And the most she will do
Is throw shadows at you
But she's always a woman to me
Wednesday, 10 October 2007
Best of the Web.
Hey. I'm not much in the mood tonight to regale the gleeful masses with my negative-brain space. You wouldn't want to see it. Suffice it to say I'm being easy to get along with! And chipper! And really fucking pulled-the-fuck together!
I think I'll get high this weekend and dance on tables and maybe pick up a boy..oh, wait, nevermind. I forgot I was talking about me here. Uptight, fragile little bee.
I'm going to read this weekend. Not work, just read, hang out with the kids and maybe order in pizza and when they go to bed I'll have hours to myself with all the books I'm planning to get later tomorrow at the library. I think it would be better if I didn't post here while Jacob is away.
Since I'm reading, you may as well read too. And don't just skim, fall into the words like a warm bath. They're better that way. Enjoy. You can search all the titles. I'm too tired to link.
Most popular post: Underwater Nyquil and porn. -This is hands-down the most visited entry I have ever written, probably because when people google "underwater porn" it comes up on the first page. The funny part is at least half the people who read it wind up coming back regularly.
Most painful post: It's a tie between The freefall and Two syllables and one saint. Both are incredibly private moments spelled out quite audibly. They stay up because this is part of my history just like the incredible and happy moments. The post in which I first talked about Cole's death doesn't count since it could be nothing but painful.
Most romantic post: I'm told it's Hollow, and I'll agree with you. That or it wins the award for revealing that kissing your best friend is one easy way to put yourself in labor.
Friends and family favorite: The Speed of Sound. This one is a look inside my head that clearly delighted people and I'm told it's well-organized, that it stands alone. The most praise I've ever received for an entry here. Thank you.
Most pornographic post: Mondays are special, it seems. I wanted to clearly and distinctly convey Jacob's sexual prowess with our size difference (his 6'4" to my 5') and I think I almost did it. I also think I need a cigarette after reading that again. And I don't smoke anymore.
Most link-filled post: No rain, just words, in which I list all the bloggers I read, proof that Bridget is not as narcissistic as she seems. I wish you'd all write more, every day would be nice but then again not everyone is wired like I am. That post gives you a good hand up to go and read some new faces or old favorites and have a nice weekend.
Don't worry about me, I'll be here somewhere. Eating pizza and reading Everything's Eventual.
See you early next week.
I think I'll get high this weekend and dance on tables and maybe pick up a boy..oh, wait, nevermind. I forgot I was talking about me here. Uptight, fragile little bee.
I'm going to read this weekend. Not work, just read, hang out with the kids and maybe order in pizza and when they go to bed I'll have hours to myself with all the books I'm planning to get later tomorrow at the library. I think it would be better if I didn't post here while Jacob is away.
Since I'm reading, you may as well read too. And don't just skim, fall into the words like a warm bath. They're better that way. Enjoy. You can search all the titles. I'm too tired to link.
Most popular post: Underwater Nyquil and porn. -This is hands-down the most visited entry I have ever written, probably because when people google "underwater porn" it comes up on the first page. The funny part is at least half the people who read it wind up coming back regularly.
Most painful post: It's a tie between The freefall and Two syllables and one saint. Both are incredibly private moments spelled out quite audibly. They stay up because this is part of my history just like the incredible and happy moments. The post in which I first talked about Cole's death doesn't count since it could be nothing but painful.
Most romantic post: I'm told it's Hollow, and I'll agree with you. That or it wins the award for revealing that kissing your best friend is one easy way to put yourself in labor.
Friends and family favorite: The Speed of Sound. This one is a look inside my head that clearly delighted people and I'm told it's well-organized, that it stands alone. The most praise I've ever received for an entry here. Thank you.
Most pornographic post: Mondays are special, it seems. I wanted to clearly and distinctly convey Jacob's sexual prowess with our size difference (his 6'4" to my 5') and I think I almost did it. I also think I need a cigarette after reading that again. And I don't smoke anymore.
Most link-filled post: No rain, just words, in which I list all the bloggers I read, proof that Bridget is not as narcissistic as she seems. I wish you'd all write more, every day would be nice but then again not everyone is wired like I am. That post gives you a good hand up to go and read some new faces or old favorites and have a nice weekend.
Don't worry about me, I'll be here somewhere. Eating pizza and reading Everything's Eventual.
See you early next week.
Not all bad.
Now that the sting of Jacob's trip plans has had a little time to soften, I wanted to point out I will be fine. I'm a big girl. I have a million resources at my fingertips, I just have to not think about the strongest of those being in Newfoundland while I am here. I have a million more resources here if anything else happens with rose petals, benches or flowerpots and I get the Suburban all to myself so I can drive all over town if I feel like it. I'll keep my appointments and take my pills and just try and stay super busy. I am fully aware it sounds like I'm trying to talk myself into making the most of it, probably because that's what normal people do.
Hot, cold. On, off. Hot, cold. Cold cold cold.
Sure, weirdest entry title ever. If you have to know, I hate putting titles on my thoughts. I could never categorize the jumble that comes out of my head, why should I name it?
Oh, and you can leave now, this one is private.
Jacob leaves on Friday morning for his annual conference. Yes, I know. Yes, that conference. He'll be back on Monday. Four days, three nights. I wouldn't have told me either.
Excuse me while I go scream or something.
No, on second thought, I'll be fine. Right?
Oh, and you can leave now, this one is private.
Jacob leaves on Friday morning for his annual conference. Yes, I know. Yes, that conference. He'll be back on Monday. Four days, three nights. I wouldn't have told me either.
Excuse me while I go scream or something.
No, on second thought, I'll be fine. Right?
Tuesday, 9 October 2007
I throw a mean dinner party but I have trouble with the giving thanks part.
And everything is good enough like it was.
And everything is good enough like it was.
And everything is good enough like it was.
Like it was.
I'm sitting here, not drawing a blank but instead painting so many pictures I'm not sure what order I should present them in.
Bridget is the supreme adherent. I drank what I was given last night despite knowing I shouldn't, I returned to the table when I was ordered to when Ben showed up at our front door and I continue to slice and dice Jacob in marriage therapy as instructed.
It would have been better to skip the alcohol, sleep with Ben sometime over the past several years and ultimately protect Jacob from the pictures in his head now from having to listen to my brutally graphic and protracted descriptions of Cole's favorite things.
I was doing such a wonderful and admirable job of sugarcoating shit right up until today and I slipped and now I can't put it back in. The things I've already shared with him were so mild and I had hoped it was enough. It was not.
Dinner was lovely, by the way. The turkey was perfect, the kids cleaned their plates and everyone had a great time, since Jacob managed to throw Ben off the front lawn without any sort of fuss whatsoever.
Someone please remind me why I'm here? I'd ask Jake but everytime he looks my way he loses his composure all over the floor. And for that reason alone we're staying home for the rest of the day and I get to do some one-handed typing, because he won't let go of my other hand.
And everything is good enough like it was.
And everything is good enough like it was.
Like it was.
I'm sitting here, not drawing a blank but instead painting so many pictures I'm not sure what order I should present them in.
Bridget is the supreme adherent. I drank what I was given last night despite knowing I shouldn't, I returned to the table when I was ordered to when Ben showed up at our front door and I continue to slice and dice Jacob in marriage therapy as instructed.
It would have been better to skip the alcohol, sleep with Ben sometime over the past several years and ultimately protect Jacob from the pictures in his head now from having to listen to my brutally graphic and protracted descriptions of Cole's favorite things.
I was doing such a wonderful and admirable job of sugarcoating shit right up until today and I slipped and now I can't put it back in. The things I've already shared with him were so mild and I had hoped it was enough. It was not.
Dinner was lovely, by the way. The turkey was perfect, the kids cleaned their plates and everyone had a great time, since Jacob managed to throw Ben off the front lawn without any sort of fuss whatsoever.
Someone please remind me why I'm here? I'd ask Jake but everytime he looks my way he loses his composure all over the floor. And for that reason alone we're staying home for the rest of the day and I get to do some one-handed typing, because he won't let go of my other hand.
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