No luck today. I try to arrange the words just so but they all pour out in a scream. Maybe tomorrow.
Tomorrow will probably be worse.
Ha, I am having a real hard time with your optimism. Maybe you should WALK A MILE IN MY SHOES and then tell me to calm down. I need drugs. Drugs and someone else to do this because I really don't think I can pull it off without casualties. Watch as she explodes before your very eyes just out of sheer stress.
It could happen. Stay tuned.
Tuesday, 9 March 2010
Monday, 8 March 2010
Benjamin, I can't lift these boxes.
I'll be waving my handsThe thrill this week in grade three is to pull your mouth open wide with two fingers and say things like "puck" and "apple".
Watching you drown, watching you scream, quiet or loud
And maybe you should sleep
And maybe you just need a friend
As clumsy as you've been there's no one laughing
You will be safe in here
you will be safe in here
Sigh.
In grade six the trend is to decorate your jeans with memories written in sharpie, a la Sisterhood of the traveling pants. I may join that one. I already lead the threes in swearing so I think I have elementary school covered tenfold.
We are surrounded by cardboard boxes, markers, packing tape and lists. Contracts to print and sign, calls to make, addresses to change, hotels to book, flights to organize, pets to calm, children to reassure and...
...one princess sitting at a scrubbed table with a borrowed glass full of cheap white wine, near tears and near smiles at the effort in place to relocate many lives all at once, and memories too.
It rained all day today and I can see the tops of my lilac bushes again. I scraped away the ice in front of the garage door so that I don't have another session of stars and sparrows, flat on my back on the cement floor of the garage, wondering how I got there.
I'm favoring myself physically because if I hurt myself or pull anything I won't be able to pack. Time is at a premium right now, I am writing tonight from the dinner table, on precious batter power while Henry finishes his homemade pizza in the dining room and Ruth is long gone, off to watch television while she waits for us to be ready to head outside to walk the dog. Once I get the children organized and in pajamas playing Warcraft with Ben across the miles I will finish the calculations for my taxes and call them in tomorrow. Then I can put all of that away and concentrate on coordinating this move. Which sometimes seems so very easy and straightforward and other times becomes unbearably complicated and impossible.
But I have done so much. And I'm going to list the things because I could use a little pep talk with my contraband wine:
- I refinished a hardwood floor.
- I painted several rooms, top to bottom.
- I mudded and finished a newly gyproc-sheeted room.
- I hired a realtor and sold a house (almost forty showings in four days).
- I hired a mover.
- I had my car repaired and negotiated a free rental car for the duration.
- I kept the three of us safe.
- I lived without Ben for almost three months, no small feat for someone who is afraid of everything and who only breathes or sleeps in his arms.
- I kept my computer alive. There's no resuscitation order on this thing. It clearly wants to die. I need to give it permission and I don't plan to do that for a bit yet.
- We made brownies. They ruled the universe. Then we tossed the rest of the baking supplies.
I will soon find out. Two weeks from tomorrow.
Oh, Jesus Christ. Bring more wine then, I have work to do.
Sunday, 7 March 2010
Eight is enough.
There's a little white porchBen took that picture in the post below. I am still landlocked quite tightly but the countdown is on. Give or take a little we're down to less than twenty days remaining. Ben will be home in just under two weeks and we'll wrap up life on the Prairie and get the hell out, but I'll save the malevolence of goodbye for the final few days, if my laptop is still functioning then. The house is sold. The truck is booked. The lawyer is booked. The neighbors have been told. I've been saving out keys and taking things down. The suitcases are all over the dining room floor and the table pushed out of the way.
And you wanted it so
Can you let me go down
To the end of the road
In the black and the white
A Technicolorful life
Can I stand by your side?
We can make it alright
Here we go, Bridget.
Here we go, boys. Take our hands and never look back at this place, or I swear to God, I'll claw your eyes out.
Ben sang to me the other night. He played Tangerine and when I finally went to sleep I wasn't crying. Almost into the single digits now and finally I figured out how to destroy whole blocks of time Godzilla-princess style with movies and books and throwing myself into whatever else I am doing with one hundred percent attention and effort, instead of the usual fifty-fifty. Half a shot, merely a chance, and not a sure thing. Like the game of Capture her Heart. You won't get how it works but three of them figured it out in my life and that's enough for me.
There was no Hyde this time. The stress is starting to shift to semantics and plans that don't hinge so heavily on outside influences and finally it feels like reality instead of incarceration. Pair that with the clocks going ahead this coming weekend and a less-frigid round of weather as of late and I have officially clocked out of here with eight full winters under my belt.
Eight.
Eight.
When the fuck did that happen? Nevermind, it won't happen ever again. He promised.
Just nevermind. This chapter will be dealt with later as I see fit. Not today. It's a nice day today and I don't want to ruin it. Though I could ruin it if I think too hard about Ben's eyes, or Ben's arms, or Ben's beard, or Ben when he breathes and I hear it sometimes. It's one of my favorite things in my entire life and I'm counting the days now until we're a force to be reckoned with instead of two completely lost individuals foundering around in far-apart locations trying to do the best we can. Of course it's been good enough, but it isn't GOOD enough. Got it?
Sometimes you can just tell when a new chapter is going to be better than the previous one. I don't know how that happens, but it does. Sometimes it even happens to me.
Saturday, 6 March 2010
Two bits (losing my credibility completely).
Could someone please tell me where I put the box full of cellphone chargers, headphones and assorted cases? I've looked and I can't find it. I NEEEEEEEEED it. My headphones! I neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed my headphones. Argh.
In other notes, I really need to get a bigger microSD card for my phone. There is never enough space for the songs.
And just because this is calm before the next storm, I'm going to do something totally awesome here and post the list of songs in my OHW folder on my Blackberry. That's One Hit Wonders. Even though they aren't, they're just random songs I love and want to have handy but I don't want the whole albums on my phone. Get it? (If you are the author of one of them, don't be offended. The whole albums are on my computer, but the SD card is very tight, packed full, okay? And I love you.)
Don't laugh if you see something weird. All of them are a good offset for Tool and for Ben's stuff. Trust me. These are the songs that you find when you open up the glove compartment in Bridget's head and reach far back into the dusty corners.
And I won't tell you about what was in August's because he would come home and tickle me to death.
On second thought..
In other notes, I really need to get a bigger microSD card for my phone. There is never enough space for the songs.
And just because this is calm before the next storm, I'm going to do something totally awesome here and post the list of songs in my OHW folder on my Blackberry. That's One Hit Wonders. Even though they aren't, they're just random songs I love and want to have handy but I don't want the whole albums on my phone. Get it? (If you are the author of one of them, don't be offended. The whole albums are on my computer, but the SD card is very tight, packed full, okay? And I love you.)
Don't laugh if you see something weird. All of them are a good offset for Tool and for Ben's stuff. Trust me. These are the songs that you find when you open up the glove compartment in Bridget's head and reach far back into the dusty corners.
- Toto-Africa
- Trust Company-Downfall
- Thirteen Senses-Into the Fire
- Matthew Good-Strange Days
- Train-Drops of Jupiter
- Iron and Wine-Night Descending
- Matthew Good-In a world called catastrophe
- Black Crowes-She talks to Angels
- Wide Mouth Mason-The River song
- Black Crowes-Remedy
- Garbage-A stroke of luck
- Hudson River School-The Great mistake
- Spin Doctors-Two princes
- Incubus-Drive
- Iron and Wine-Each coming night
- Collective Soul-The world I know
- Sting-Fortress around your heart
- Foo Fighters-Come alive
- Neverending White Lights/Dallas Green-The grace
- Foo Fighters-Times like these
- Hawksley Workman-Striptease
- White Zombie-More Human than Human
- Slipknot-Vermillion Part 2
- Bee Gees-How Deep is your love
- Death Cab-Transatlanticism (the whole album, so it's probably in the wrong place)
And I won't tell you about what was in August's because he would come home and tickle me to death.
On second thought..
Friday, 5 March 2010
Night-doubt.
Oh ominous place spellbound and unchildproofedTonight I was swinging gently on the swing that is tied to the tree with two heavy ropes. A weathered grey board beneath me, my toes only graze the ground if I stretch my legs out far. I was watching the stars as they lit in the sky and then I noticed how frayed the ropes were. Once knotted securely to the strong branch, I could see that they were unraveling to the point of it being dangerous to continue to swing at all.
My least favorite chill to bare alone
Compatriots in place they'd cringe if I told you
Our best back-pocket secret our bond full-blown
But I didn't move.
A little of the euphoria is beginning to cloud again and the fear makes a campaign to return. What if someone steals our mail? New bank cards and tax receipts are at stake. I suppose our identity gets stolen or some funds from our bank account. All of it will be replaced. What if there is nowhere to stay when we arrive and someone drops the ball and the condo isn't ready for us? We find a hotel.
Jesus, Bridget, you really need to get your mind off things.
What if the plane crashes? Then nothing else can go wrong, now, can it? What if the movers lose my car/our furniture/everything we own? Then I guess you get a wad of cash to spend on new things. New things you have always wanted like a custom-painted fiddle, nicer clothing and a couch you can sleep on that still fits through a doorway. Maybe a stacking washer/dryer because they take up less room.
Simple things for a simple girl, because she over-complicates things so very badly.
Snap! And Bridge drops an inch on the swing as more stars come to light in the ever darkening backyard. You can hear her if you listen closely. She is singing songs she heard on the radio today, and today she is wearing a useless evil eye bracelet, or maybe it isn't useless but she would like a detailed report of that too if you have information for her.
What if it's awful?
How can it be awful, princess? We've got the ocean, the mountains, the forest and the mild easy living you have craved through eight arctic winters.
What if it's too expensive?
Then you write more and crawl back up to your post as the author who has these big dreams but puts them at the back of the shelf behind the mental obstacles for safekeeping. Words that are destroyed are merely letters after all.
What if I get homesick?
For what, exactly? Eight years, princess. Eight years and we still can't believe you did it.
Where does Jake go?
Where I always go, pigalet. With you.
What if Ben is difficult?
I promise, beautiful, no more Mr. Hyde.
They (everyone) feel the same way. Maybe everyone hides it better. I never had a poker face. I would see a handsome man or tell a lie and the action would be evident in my expression, colored in as a blush to a admission that I was all heart. Completely heart and nothing else. No mind, no guts, no brains. Just heart. A girl-organ, all red and pulsing with valves meandering off into different directions and blood squishing through your fingers as you hold me and feel me beating.
Too fast. And it won't slow down until I conquer all of the current fears and invent the next round to swing from, some of which will bring my swing crashing to the ground. But only if I let them. I may, but I may not. After all, it's dark out. No one will see.
I am a magnet for all kinds of deeper wonderment
I am a wunderkind
I am a Joan of Arc and smart enough to believe this
I am a princess on the way to my throne
Destined to reign, destined to roam
Composers in absentia.
Just a little reminder when things get so very hectic I tend to take to Twitter. Button to your left and in this post below. Don't be a lurker though, it's nice to have followers and I will follow you in return if you say hello.
Why I like Twitter so much I'll never know. But I do. It's painless and quasinonymous and....
...there's a picture of me on my Twitter profile and for once I'm not hiding behind a BlackBerry/sunglasses/boy. Ben took the snap last night during our webcam chat. So that is me from my bed at two o'clock in the morning. If you look closely you can see my striped over-the-knee socks. I was cold.
More later. I thought you needed a treat because you've been very good readers putting up with my non-existent, positively undigestable word arrangements during this chaos. Thanks for that.
Why I like Twitter so much I'll never know. But I do. It's painless and quasinonymous and....
...there's a picture of me on my Twitter profile and for once I'm not hiding behind a BlackBerry/sunglasses/boy. Ben took the snap last night during our webcam chat. So that is me from my bed at two o'clock in the morning. If you look closely you can see my striped over-the-knee socks. I was cold.
More later. I thought you needed a treat because you've been very good readers putting up with my non-existent, positively undigestable word arrangements during this chaos. Thanks for that.
Thursday, 4 March 2010
Henry asked tonight if Ben missed his glue stick guitars.
It only took me a minute to figure out what he meant. He went on to tell me he likes it best when Ben plays glue stick songs after dinner at the table...instead of plugging in the electric ones. The electric guitars are so much louder. The acoustic guitars are better for dining rooms.
Sometimes I agree. :)
But only sometimes.
It only took me a minute to figure out what he meant. He went on to tell me he likes it best when Ben plays glue stick songs after dinner at the table...instead of plugging in the electric ones. The electric guitars are so much louder. The acoustic guitars are better for dining rooms.
Sometimes I agree. :)
But only sometimes.
Sold.
It was a beautiful letdownThe house.
When you found me here
For once in a rare blue moon
I see everything clear
I'll be a beautiful letdown
That's what I'll forever be
And though it may cost my soul
I'll sing for free
It sold.
Time moved so slowly and suddenly it's moving so fast and the grass is greener already, because it must have been so simple to mindlessly sing along to the radio while I painted and scraped and plastered and cooked and cleaned and now suddenly I'm trying to coordinate a cross county move with children and pets and Ben flying in and flying out and moving trucks and utilities and I don't have an address and I need an address don't I? and things are going to move so fast I can already hear the wind rushing in my ears so it makes it very hard to catch the actual words and I still need to do our taxes and my laptop is failing because fourteen months is the
And we will be gone and it's a good thing because even though I weathered that storm there are still miles to go, yes, Mr. Frost.
And right now I still have a backpack with family pictures on DVDs and our very-valuable stuff that can't be packed and Jacob's letters. It's sitting by the door and I have the children's coats ready and the kennels for the animals and I've got my mask ready to put back if I need it but really it's so nice out today and I'm really really hoping that with my split and bleeding fingers crossed, dried from the cold and scraped raw from the effort, that Bridget is through the hard part and onto the glory now.
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