with things right now. Not actual beef, although I did make a kickin' batch o' meatballs last night, more or less I'm experiencing the kind of beef where things rub wrong. I'm working it out. S.l.o.w.l.y.
Feel me on that?
A vacation shakes things up, can change perspective, alters the starting point - for me, makes me cry. Granted, I always wanted to be the woman who doesn't cry at all. I want to be the person who says, "I can't remember the last time I cried" Huh...have we met? I won't ever be that person. I cry just thinking about crying. More than that, I have a friend whose husband always, and I mean always, manages to assist me in my ending up in tears, as though I'm on my own Barbara Walters special. To be fair, it usually involves copious amounts of wine, which simply does not help my cause.
I burst into tears this morning dropping the chef off at his house. And then, as though I'm five, I told him nothing was wrong and that I was fine. To which he replied, "your eyes are filling with water - you sure?"
I am fine. I'm just a bit confused about next steps and moving ahead with things, like my job, my life, romance, raising one child who hates bugs, nature, wildlife, and is rapidly showing signs of having all of my fears and his father's disregard for pleasantries. I ask myself, what am I doing?
To not answer the question, I'm going to jam. I'm going to jam soon.
I think the next jam session will be the weekend of April 25th. A trip to Watsonville to grab the first of many batches of Strawberries, possibly a quick lunch in Salinas, and then back to SF with all those berries. A day trip, if you will.
The jamming will take place on April 26th.
It's time to kick-out-the-jams, muthafuckers.
MC5 - be hip,