Thirty-nine is a freshwater lake in the mountains and it seems beautiful but it's cold and unfamiliar so I am sticking my toes in and then retreating. I'm going to take my time easing into it. I will get used to it eventually. I will define it and own it. I'll be able to say it without the accompanying facial expression that leaves people incredibly amused.

What the fuck? Thirty-nine? But I don't look OH MY GOD THAT MEANS FORTY IS NEXT.

It is but we'll cover that next year, okay? Please. It's been a long year. One step at a time.

I'll just spread my towel here by the water's edge and consider the breeze for a few moments.

On Tuesday night Ben built us a bed. It's low and large and more solid than anything I've ever seen. We choose a very good proper adult mattress for it and new king-sized pillows. This followed a trip to buy beds for the children. It doesn't seem like the moving truck is ever going to arrive, though I am receiving daily updates, presently it is in the prairies but working slowly toward the coast and should be here on the weekend but really at this point I have come to expect nothing and will keep you posted.

Last night was presents and cake and song and paintings of a girl with yellow hair and it was wonderful and touching and overwhelming and I am exhausted. I had such a wonderful day. Ben chose the most wonderful gifts for me and I'm rather stunned by the expense and afraid to touch anything because I'm sure it's too much and we should send them back but at the same time I really really love what he's chosen and the fact that he wanted me to have such nice things. He's thrilled to be in the house. Thrilled with his bed. Thrilled with everything about the neighborhood we chose and the decisions we have made. Content would be a better word. He's got his commute down to a science and he loves the distance due to the ability to decompress on his return trip. Leave the bright lights behind, rockstar, and come home to the woods.

I'm not sure I enjoy the added time away from him but I will adjust.

I'm up to my ankles in the water now but you haven't been paying attention, have you?

And today I realized that I have caught some stomach bug that has left me with painful cramps and a blistering headache and crushing fatigue. I chalked it up to stress. To being Miss Rigid-Can't-Relax but then it grew to epic proportions and Ben began to complain as well. We've caught something somewhere. It will pass. I'm going to run errands shortly and then come home and rest. Nothing else is necessary. I'm waiting and doing little things. I'm not used to errands that require a car. We are far from certain things. Though there is enough within reach that we don't NEED to drive, it will be a necessary evil most of the time. Like birthdays and waiting for moving trucks and weathering illnesses, learning how to manage stress and sitting on the floor because you don't have a chair. Like ice cold glacier-fed lakes, volcanoes, giant slugs and black widow spiders.

Like turning thirty-nine.

Going for a quick swim, I'll be back later.

Threes and Nines.

I wiped my hands on my cheeks, leaving streaks of dust and dirt. I'm sure there's some poetic name for the color of centuries of dust mixed in with tears. If so, I don't know what it is.

You look even more tired. I didn't think it was possible.

I'm doing my best.

You keep telling people that. Is anyone listening, princess?

Ask them.

I'm asking you.

I ignored him. I always come up with these questions late at night, and I wasn't about to let him steamroll me with his Jacob Knows Better routine. I've seen it before. I lived it for a while.

Not long enough.

What does it feel like to know that I'm two years older today than you will ever be? What happens when I'm old? Will you still be the same?

Am I the same?

No.

Bridget, why do you ask me questions you already know the answers to? Don't you trust your own answers?

Nope.

Why not?

Everything that can go wrong does, Jake.

Last night didn't go wrong.

You have a terrible way of showing up for events you're not invited to, mister.

That aside. Ben built you a bed. Then he drew a bath. Last night was nice for you. Right through to leaving the house. Yes. And today is your birthday. Happy Birthday Princess. What did you ask for?

Sleep. Karma. Escape.

Any luck?

Nope.

Ask for something money can buy, then.

Money is evil.

Everything is evil, princess. Pick and choose. We've talked about this before.

It isn't fair, Jacob.

I know, baby. You're doing great thought.

Yes, please mollify me. I'm loving that.

Don't be ungrateful.

I'm telling you that's the last thing I am.

Then let it go.

I CAN'T.

Evil finds you then, princess.

So let it come.

You disappoint me, Bridget. I thought you were so tough.

I was but that's over now. Now I'm just me again.

The girl who doesn't like birthdays?

Yes. That's the one.

Extremes in coastal living: the early days.

Did you see the Krispy Kremes? I know. Those things are crack. I've had four doughnuts today plus birthday cake (again)(not mine) and I'll be rolling into the new house tomorrow at any rate. Thank heavens it's downhill all the way.

That's what it's been so far, hasn't it? We actually left the condominium a few days earlier than planned due to a mixup and came out into the countryside to hang out with Lochlan's family. We're surrounded by horses here. It's a lot like Nolan's only more lush and far larger than the the little grove on the prairie where Ben and I fell in love. It's downright picture-perfect, like a postcard only without a hint of familiarity so far and Ben keeps patiently driving me around my new neighborhood and we practice left-right-left so I can memorize the way home and the way to the grocery store because for the first time in oh, thirty-eight years or so I'm going to enter car culture, where everyone drives everywhere because there is nothing within walking distance and the hills are so steep I fear for my life sometimes.

The house is still remote but I'm finally beginning to get flutters of excitement here and there like fireflies you can see just after the sun goes down.

The very first thing I took notice of today were the outlets on the outside of the house. For my tiny white lights. The expanse of verandah that will hold my favorite all-weather chairs and the windchimes I hear best. I didn't catch them the first time, just like I failed to notice there's a blooming lilac and a dogwood tree in my yard and both are flowering presently.

Last evening we stood outside and listened to the frogs and peepers and crickets and holy, it was LOUD. I heard them before Ben had the door open all the way and it was glorious. It was just like Greenfield, actually, only without the Medway river muffling everything save for the sound of the occasional car traveling swiftly through on the way to lonely nowhere.

(I only spent a few weeks there each summer (for fifteen years, mind you) growing up and oddly that is the first thing this reminds me of.)

The farmer's market here is packed, the strawberries run cheap and there are honey bees and horses and waterfalls and festivals around every bend. Like a movie only not, once again because it's real life. Except that I have to drive to my mailbox. I don't know where it is yet.

We've decided to stay on here until our moving truck arrives, rather than try and rough it in the house. A relief and a setback, because if I can go in the house tomorrow I know I won't want to leave, but really we can't sleep on the floor and we don't have dishes and pots and pans and blankets and anything. It's all on the truck and it would just be more comfortable to stay on a few more days than risk getting out of sorts any more than we are.

And we are. Ben's going into month five living out of a suitcase and the children have run out of patience for change. Different foods, different schedules and the total lack of familiarity take a toll on everyone. We need to just hold out a few more days. That's all.

Just a few more. We can manage. Character building, they call it. Sigh.

No more cross-country moves ever. Stick a fork in me, I'm so done I'm burnt and completely inedible, looks like you'll have to get take out after all.

Adapt or die, princess.

Indeed, Jacob. I am doing my best.

Notes from nomads.

Good morning.

The only headlines you need to know this morning are that Rob Zombie is on his way here and that Gabriel Aubrey is single again.

There are not enough hours in the day for this princess, let me tell you.

More later, I have things to do but hey, thanks for the coffee!

Edited to add: I think Twitter will be where it's at for the next five days or so, we're moving into the house and everything should be hooked up and rolling by mid next week. Follow me and you can follow along.

It's worth it for this: http://splashpage.mtv.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/thor1.jpg

Damn. I love a man in armor.

You're welcome. Wish me luck.

Living reflection from a dream.

This afternoon I have resorted to snorting coffee off the table in rows and pinching myself until I yelp involuntarily just to stay awake. Not sure if it's the anxiety that makes me want to curl up and sleep or the exhaustion of this adventure. Either way when I do finally lie down beside Ben late at night my eyes blow open like the doors on the fire station after five alarms and I remain like that, watching the city, for hours until eventually they close. Usually against the sun because it's very bright first thing in the morning.

Tonight is our last night in the city-proper and maybe that will help. Maybe it's the loveliness of the view. Maybe it's the noise. Maybe traffic. Construction. Density. Hell, maybe it's the fumes from the seven dozen different Starbucks and Blenz stores that dot the downtown like raindrops.

I should maybe switch to tea but Jake tried that already and all I did was sip it like a proper lady and every single time I would ask him if it was supposed to taste all canny and weird and hot-watery like this and he would sigh and offer me milk and sugar and I'd wrinkle up my nose until it was halfway up my face and point out that the last thing a hardcore princess needs is sugar. Or milk for that matter.

Pffft.

I have pulled our things together and what a nightmare. Fourteen pieces of luggage because there are seven of us. Some are small pieces like backpacks and some are very large and heavy rolling hockey bags and I'm a little concerned now that it won't fit in my car but really we'll figure it out. Not like it all needs to fit in the trunk of a taxi to go to the airport in a hurry. I foresee an hour or two tomorrow in which we simply heave and squish the bags into different combinations to see what works. I foresee a very uncomfortable ride out into the mountains.

I'm rather glad I didn't embark on the crazy shopping trips I was offered. And I'm glad I deferred when we stopped at IKEA (three times) because really we travel incredibly light for a month on the road stretched across three seasons and four provinces, pets included.

So kiss my ass because everyone else offered this adventure basically said no, because it seems impossible so it must be.

It isn't.

You just need to be adventurous and step outside of your comfort zone and trust me, if I can do that, anyone can. In fact, I grew tired and wandered away from my old comfort zone in error and never found the darned thing again but Ben here, well, he promised he would just build me a new one.

And I'm holding him to that.

I'm also holding him to the promises that yes, all this shit will fit in the car and that someday I definitely will sleep. And maybe even breathe. Which means it must be a custom-fit comfort zone complete with nerve gas piped in.

I hope it has a coffee maker.

And a bed.

And a bowl of tangerines.

Overwhelmed as one would be, placed in my position.

My birthday present this year.

TOOL.

In concert.

This July.

Live. So that Bridget can hear them with her own broken ears.

Oh my GOD.

And I thought waking up to the news that they've possibly found Noah's Ark was pretty amazing.

"Between two evils, I always pick the one I never tried before." ~Mae West

Driven by the strangle of vain
Showing no mercy, I'll do it again
Open up your eyes
You keep on crying, baby I'll bleed you dry
Skies are beneath me
I see a storm bubbling up from the sea

And it's coming closer
And it's coming closer

You shock my bones,
Leaving me stranded all in love on my own
What do you think of me?
Where am I now, baby where do I sleep?
Feels so good when I'm home
2000 years of chasing taking its toll

I'm not really listening. I'm playing music in my head while I try to quiet the waves of frustration and fear rolling through my brain. It's not working, nothing is working and I'm forced to drop back into the present, into my chair in the flames in front of Caleb while he paces back and forth in front of me, annoyed that I interrupted his plans with family business.

Have you asked him how he feels?

He's feeding me your answers. Too much time with you. I don't like it.

John is well compensated for his loyalty.

That's how you buy company, isn't it, Cale?

You tell me, princess. Tell them how much you cost me.

Going after the rest of my friends isn't above you, is it?

He's very valuable to me. I enjoy having someone I can trust around.

Do you have to make this so complicated?

Yes, I do, Bridget. Things have changed. I have to position myself so that things like Jacob are never allowed to happen again.

Excuse me?

Jacob prevented me from spending any time with you or with the children. That can't be allowed to be repeated.

You killed him.

I beg your pardon.

You did something or said something to Jake. I don't know. You did something to him and then he was gone. What did you do to him?

Bridget, I think you need some rest.

Give me my friends back.

(Hysterical edge on that one. Whoops. Calm down. Breathe. Fail. Stand up. Be ready to run.)

You wanted a way to keep from having to watch them leave all the time and we found a way to accomplish that. And now you want something else. I can almost see why Lochlan is perpetually frustrated by you. You're never happy with anything even after we bend over backwards to try to please you.

I like the way you lump yourself in with them.

Why wouldn't I?

Because I'm the one always bending to please you and it's never good enough and you always want more.

Perhaps it's a family trait.

I'm not your family.

I wish you wouldn't say things like that.

You promised you would leave them alone in exchange for me.

And I DON'T HAVE YOU, DO I?

He bellowed it at me, right in my face and I shrank back and stumbled over the edge of the chair and sat down with a thump. Almost on the floor but not quite.

You have too much. Too much say. Too much power. Too much control.

And it's the only thing that keeps you in line.

It's a steel fairy tale, motherfucker. It isn't real and I hate you.

Oh. I love it when you mix trash with treasure.

Call Mike back. Then you can be creepy times two. John isn't going to be your puppet any more than Ben or PJ.

Then tell me something, Bridget.

What?

Who will you give up? Because I find this very interesting.

It isn't. I just protect my friends.

There's a very fine line here, princess and I think we both know you're playing a game without knowing all of the rules.

I'm done here, Cale. Goodnight.

He grabbed my arm as I stood up to pass him, squeezing it hard.

Sit down, Bridget.

I shook my arm but he didn't let go. He turned to stone and I cried out.

Let go. Fuck!

Everything continues as it has. No changes.

He pulled me in until we were eye to eye and I could let the rest of his face melt away, focusing on his eyes, pulling the shades up one after another until they were the medium shade of blue, somewhere in between Caleb and Jacob's blue eyes. Regular blue like Cole's with the long black eyelashes. Kind eyes suddenly, softened by proximity, blurred with fatigue, flashing resentment and undisguised want.

Bridget, are you listening?

Yes. (No, fucker, I'm not. DIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIE.)

You can surround yourself with as many friends and as much money as you can possibly find and I will still control you. Do you get that? Ben can't save you and neither can Batman. Do you understand me?

Yes. (At a loss here suddenly as the fear comes back and I start fumbling around in the dark, feeling for something in particular.)

Now we're done, Br-

I abruptly found the volume knob in my head and turned it up loud. I didn't want to hear anymore.

Heading to a family meeting. Just one thing.

When are you gonna come down
When are you going to land
I should have stayed on the farm
I should have listened to my old man

You know you can't hold me forever
I didn't sign up with you
I'm not a present for your friends to open
This boy's too young to be singing the blues

I hope the tooth fairy finds Henry tonight. He's not in his own bed. We're in transition you see, so we took the extra step of leaving the tooth in a mug on the counter with a note just in case she's not on her game. I think she will be though. She's pretty good about these things.

Ben and I are playing Youtube trivia (Elton John included) and I'm biting my tongue not to point out that Jackson Browne's Running on Empty is a little too close in style to Say you Love Me by Fleetwood Mac.

I don't know how. It just does. They're both good though. 8-track goodness indeed. The tooth fairy will probably skip us on account of how far down we can drag the coolness quotient in the room.

We'll work on it. I swear. Later. Meeting time.

Torment, heretofore.

Ani ohev otakh.

Productive weekend. Managed to secure invites to three separate parties this afternoon and tonight I drove us back downtown from the new house, an hour outside the city, vaguely grey-knuckled and tense, seeing nothing but the lane in front of me because that's how I drive. Ask me to look at something and I'll veer right out of my lane and into a forbidden one. I requested the radio be on and was denied. Poor Ben rarely gets a chance to witness my driving skills or see the extent to which I blast music while I try and remember where it was that I was supposed to be going before I forgot.

I'm going to be a scathing riot in my Alzheimer years. Coupled with the narcolepsy I can see why I'm so popular now. (While she's coherent.) Eventually I'll fall asleep somewhere inconvenient and they'll just leave me there, propped against a large flowerpot and when I wake up I'll have forgotten where I belong and simply wander away into the ether. I'm not sure if that prospect is a comfort or a curse but it seems to be the only clear eventuality in a life where nothing can ever be nailed down, pinkie-sworn or planned too far in advance.

I'm running on noxious fumes at this point. Carbon monoxide and poisonous dreams lead to a hazy kind of tolerance and capability, floating just above the level of breathable panic, classed as on-alert without having to take ones feet off the chair to go investigate. Ready for anything, prepared for nothing, assume the worst, be grateful for the best and not budge an inch. The first things to go are grace, generosity and patience and they left in a hurry, forgetting important things like nice pens and monogrammed umbrellas.

The city is honking and blowing up like gangbusters here. Our team won! It's wonderful. It's warm, we're in shirts and sweaters. This morning I took the early chore of puppy walk and we ventured down to the water once again to smell the sea weed and greet the herons who are not afraid of me or the dog anymore. We have become fixtures, like statues, frozen, asleep, forgotten, forgetful.

Peaceful.

The confidence boost of a working machine loaded with fresh words, some pretty new things to replace old tired dresses that the boys are weary of seeing me in and some plans for a little fun ahead plus the achievement of driving far and driving early, home into the twilight sun, from the mountains into the glass and concrete jungle when I had planned to possibly navigate a drive around my new neighborhood around two weeks from now possibly a few blocks if I had a decent map, have given me a little tiny measure of oxygen to breathe to keep me going through the next tough part.

Closing costs. More lawyers. More appointments. More walks to the water and drives to the mansion. More kisses from Ben and cookies stolen by Henry. More pictures drawn by and taken of Ruth. More hockey. More sunshine. More waiting as we hope for a moving truck on time and a key for the mailbox. Which isn't anywhere near the house on the hill, perched above the water. Unreachable, untouchable, cold. More isolated than I expected, more comfort than I assumed.

More Bridget. Renewable resource. Thought I was done for at last, turns out I am not. Not quite anyway.

Hello Steve.

Hi! Hi! Hi! Bridget's very excited tonight. Why?

Macbook Pro.

Goodbye windows (Jesus, just get the fuck out, I'm so done with you), goodbye cheap disposable laptops. As soon as I can figure out how to stop hitting caps lock and how to make the system font a little bigger for my tired eyes I'll be all set. Kind of like a new three-thousand-dollar typewriter ribbon makes everything clear as day.

Ben keeps talking about time machines and command keyboard shortcuts. I'm all just like "But how LOUD does it get?"

Because really, that's why I bought my car. Because there are sub woofers UNDER the front seats so you can feel the music. And now I have it in my fingertips.

And actually I didn't spend any money and this isn't a new Macbook. Ben got a new one and I was gifted his old one and that was really convenient, I think. I was just pretty much done with my old machine and he wanted the guts from the new rollout and a little more screen real estate. He's a big guy. He needs space.

I just needed something that works without a timer ticking in the background, rushing me over words, falling, stumbling, stuttering to the point where it was becoming a chore instead of a pleasure, knowing if I was very lucky I might get ten months out of my purchase.

And woah.

Ben just fixed something. He said he would never do it (I was supposed to fix my own problems and he would just be here but you know what? I spent the entire winter fixing everything and I am done) and so he did it. Thank you honey. And thank you too, Steve for saving me from Bill and his stupid Windows 7 upgrade. I think that pretty much finished me off.