Nursery rhymes

I probably could use a good one right now…

There was an old woman who swallowed a fly, but I don’t know why she swallowed the fly…

But I do… she probably had something die in the walls of her house, and the blood flies appeared one morning outing seemingly nowhere, and she was bombarded by them only hours later as she hung up the fly paper strands from the ceiling, because they had quadrupled since that morning, and so she was crying and crying and packing a bag quickly so she could leave and stay elsewhere while the fly papers did their work (she hoped, anyway), and, as she wondered how the hidden dead creature would be found at the end of the week (that was just beginning) when the exterminator came for their long visit, when it was only Sunday currently, and she slipped on her hurried and panicked way down the stairs, carrying her hurriedly-packed bag and other necessary items for the week, and, as she called out in her slip, a fly ran into her open, inhaling mouth…

Or something like that…

I mean, it’s just an idea… no reason for that particular scenario to have come to mind… no reason at all… except for what happened today, of course…. so glad the last bit actually didn’t happen…, but I could totally see it as having been a horrible top-off for the whole miserable part of the day…., but I’m glad it didn’t.

Post-a-day 2019

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Stressed irony

Jump– jump– jump– jump

—-jump-jump

Aaaaaaahh!

Fleas are just darn terrible, especially without a pet… at least, with a pet, they stay on the pet… without the pet, they spread everywhere, and attack every warm body that passes through (which happens to be my warm body, my being the only one who actually lives here and isn’t a big of some sort)…

Ugh…

Help me, Lord… I have a struggle beyond this, and the fleas are just making everything worse and somewhat terrible.

……..

You see, have you ever heard the song “Ironic” by Alanis Morissette?

This section has lived in my head off and on ever since I first learned the song, way back when:

A traffic jam when you’re already late
A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break
It’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife
It’s meeting the man of my dreams
And then meeting his beautiful wife
And isn’t it ironic, don’t you think
A little too ironic, and yeah I really do think

It is all too ironic, I dare say, that this line about the man and his wife always stuck with me as a child, and now it has resurfaced in the face of reality hitting the mark of a reasonable validity in the statement.

That is, in more sensical wording, that line has come true for me.

I met this “man of my dreams” several months ago – and he even became the actual man of my daydreams over time.

Every time we are together, I am filled with light and love, and I am inspired to be the best version I can be of myself… and I want him to enjoy himself and have a wonderful time, and I take care to help along his enjoyment in the interaction.

We inevitably have a wonderful time.

And I drink up his smile.

And his eyes… those eyes that keep contact… they are that kind of eyes.

Every new thing I learn about him and every new experience I have with him increases his perfection as this “man of my dreams”.

Everything except the seemingly inevitable, that is…

I finally paid attention enough to his hands this last time I saw him – something I never seem to check on people, and so it had to be a conscious effort this time – and discovered a wedding band.

…::face palm::…

He had on another ring, too, so there was a chance it was just a ring and not a wedding band…, but then I learned of his beautiful and wonderful wife, and their beautiful darlings of children.

It was confirmed…

When I considered it all, I discovered that I truly was unsurprised by the information… just bummed.

All the good ones really are taken…(!!!)

A somewhat jokingly thought thought, but it seems to strike rather truly these days. :/

I never really expected him to be single, available… he’s too great, too comfortable in himself and with me and others… he has confidence in his place with his partner and family.

But there’s always a chance that a great guy won’t be unavailable, I tell myself, because I’m not with anyone, you know, and I’m great…

Anyway…, moving onward…

It stresses me sad to know that this guy, for sure, is not a potential partner in my life.

And… surprisingly,… yet not surprisingly,… I find hope in it all.

Firstly, that this guy exists suggests that it is possible someone else like he is could exist, someone so wonderful.

Secondly, that this guy is such a good guy that he can have a wonderful, non romantic time with me, even though he is married, makes him an even better guy than thought….

Which, then, makes the first point an even bigger and better deal…

Thirdly, there were two tiny, unchangeable aspects to him that I don’t particularly love (but that I found myself to be okay with reasonably quickly as I spent more time with the guy), and perhaps this is a piece of why he is not the one for me nor I the one for him… and perhaps the one for me will share many qualities with this guy, and yet those tiny disliked aspects will be gone in the one for me…

So, ultimately, it’s a good thing… all of it.

And… I’m even relieved a bit… no offense, but I didn’t and don’t want to have those tiny drawback aspects if I don’t have to have them, you know?

I mean, I definitely am still not quite over it all… it is still a blow to know for sure something like this, even when you had somewhat suspected it all along…, but I also can see that I will be over it, and likely rather soon.

I don’t recall at present which character where said it, but pain demands to be felt… I agree with that… when we ignore pain, it changes, but ultimately worsens.

So, I talked with my cousin, just to communicate my frustration and sadness today, because I realized it was time to let this all go… we discovered that I think I need to have a final cry to get the last dregs out and gone in the matter, so that then I can resume a wonderful friendship with a wonderful, inspiring guy.

Post-a-day 2019

Score(!) + Ugh(!!)

Two things:

1) I learned loads at the class this morning… my evening internship was cancelled this afternoon, so I went to cheer on my friend at the evening class she was attending… moral support, you know?

Then we could have dinner together afterward.

When they were gathering for class, the coach asked about why I wasn’t joining their pow-wow… we explained… he continuously encouraged me to join, and I somewhat quickly accepted – I learned lots of technique this morning, and so certainly could use the extra practice, but also could use the weight training that I had to give up for technique training this morning (now that I know the technique, I can add weight to it all, you see).

Sure, there was plenty in the workout that wasn’t the technique-based stuff I had just learned… that mattered little – I had done the beginner version this morning, and I managed to complete the advanced version this evening (for the rest of the workout, that is, because the weight I used in the weightlifting part was still for not strong muscles… though no weight was listed on the actual workout, so I technically did everything on the advanced level this evening… cool!).

The coach was joking about enjoying our results by late summertime, and I asked if we really had to wait that long .

He said, “It depends on how hard you work.”

My friend replied to him, ‘This is only our first week, and she’s already doing two-a-days(!).’

It was a good body love and pride day.

2) The vacuum broke down as I was almost finished with everything that needed to be vacuumed before the main effective flea treatment tomorrow morning… there has got to be a lesson in all of this somehow… just what in Heaven and Earth is it???????

Ugh.

Post-a-day 2019

Ugh…

Itch itch itch itch

Scraaaaaaaaatch-ch-ch

Ugh!

Itch itch itch itch

Scra-scra-scra-scraaaaaatch-ch-ch

Mmmuh(!)

Sure, some raccoons have been ha sled (literally), but the fleas are still around, and I suddenly have a handful of extremely itchy spots…

I guess it was useful that my mother gave me a bottle of ammonia the other day, despite the fact that it was over a week after I didn’t need it anymore… guess I need it now.

Hmm… this really is quite dreadful… what shall I do l, when we can’t treat with a bomb or anything of the sort, due to the nature of the house and what has to happen here regularly – there is no naturally flea bomb yet, is there?!

Just sprays so far, which has certainly done a good job of killing them, but only when I manage to spray them directly.

Ugh…(!!!)

So much for sleeping soundly anymore – that might have been the best part of the retreat this weekend…(not having to worry about fleas)

Post-a-day 2019

Aaaaahhhh, those blasted housemates!

Well, they’ve done it alright… the raccoons have overstayed their welcome.

It is official now that my poor bathroom, the place I must go in my home and cannot avoid, has fleas(!!!).

The raccoons have been living in the wall there the past couple weeks or so, and they seem to have brought fleas with them… the vent in the ceiling seems to be the culprit for how they’re getting into the actual bathroom from the walls.

Naturally, I despise it – nearly a year ago, I had a dreadful encounter with fleas while housesitting in this very street… any attempt at a repeat is to be obliterated, thank you very much.

And so, I suffer ever so slightly more tonight, acutely aware of the surprisingly marge number of freckles I have on my lower legs, ankles, and feet – indeed, I had no idea how many freckles I actually have down there (on my legs, of course, I mean).

I have covered my ankles and shins/calves with some essential oils I read about quickly online just now, ones that seem to be flea repellant and flea life-enders, and I have placed two bowls in the bathroom with soapy water and lit tea light candles… we shall see what the morning brings, but I have already dropped two or three in the bowls since I set them down just a short bit ago…

And yes, I am aware that that is not quite how the bowls and candles work, but, when they attack my ankles just because I’ve entered the room, I’m not apt to let them hang around on me…, and so I pinch and drop them directly into the soapy water of their future.

Ugh… you darned raccoons – I allow you a place to stay while you raise your babies, and you bring in this rubbish… how unkind of a houseguest this is.

Now, here I am in my room, panicking at every hair twinge and bit of air that brushes any part of my legs, worried at what it might be… I struggled falling back asleep this morning after I got the (I think) flea bite (hopefully) in the bathroom… I now worry at my being able to fall asleep at all tonight, or at least to sleep well and awake rested in the morning.

It seems sadly unlikely… :/

Darn raccoons… and, of course, fleas(!).

Post-a-day 2019

Dear Goodness, really??

I’ve noticed that I have been having trouble getting myself to go to bed recently.  I realized only just now that it is in large part due to my fear of roaches.  I’ve been housesitting, and there have been at least ten roaches with which I’ve had to deal over the past week-ish (not to mention the surprise flea infestation).  Talk about panic and paranoia taking over, I’ve been a sort of total mess this past week.  When I opened the door to bring something out to my mom this evening, a roach came rushing inside, and I screamed and broke almost instantly into tears.  I could barely speak, as I finished handing my mom the stuff, and headed back inside to deal with the bug.  It’s just not my cup of tea, so to speak, managing such a thing.  Quite frankly, I almost wish that I lived in a hermetically sealed box – at least then I would have clean air flow and no bugs, since it would be magical and all.

Sigh… now, that would be nice…

Anyway, my mom thinks that there is something that the world has been aiming to impart to me through this dreadful bag of events thrown at me this past week+.  I am inclined to see it so, too, though I’m not too sure yet as to what is being imparted to me.   Perhaps it has been something to the effect of being able to appreciate what I already have in life, or to show that even I can survive what I personally consider to be some of the most dreadful circumstances in life, and, therefore, I really can survive life as a whole (something which has genuinely concerned me at times).  Perhaps it is to be a sort of starting block for me to want something more for myself, as I see more and more clearly what sorts of things are important to me in my everyday life.  One thing is for sure: Living in town doesn’t matter much, if I don’t have friends and I don’t have activities in which I am involved.  I’m still on my own all day long, and it sucks just about as much in town as it does in the suburbs.

Yeah…

Post-a-day 2018

Shower Surprise

I’m staying at my mom’s house tonight, and so am using my old bathroom and bedroom.  In the shower, she still has two of the bottles (for there were many) of shampoo and conditioner that I had used in high school.  They are from two different sets of shampoo and conditioner, and so they have different scents, but they both take me back.

As I use the shampoo, I remember those 5:20am showers, being barely able to move or see, yet chugging along anyway, so I could get to band on time…, never fully waking up until band practice had been going for at least a little while.  I remember my boyfriend from my senior year… the time we went to see the bats on Waugh Street bridge, and he guessed correctly the brand of my shampoo and conditioner (Herbal Essences)… how he was terrified that I might fall, and grabbed me when I leaned over the edge of the bridge to see the cars below (as if)… how we always did things together with my mom (that occasion included)…

And then I move to the conditioner, which seems to have lost most of its conditioning power in these many years of sitting there.  The same sorts of memories stay in my mind, but then one striking memory produces, and adds itself to the mental exercise.  I recall the morning of my hair surprise.  As I was rubbing the shampoo into my hair, I discovered what felt to be part of a pine needle, or else one of those brown cocoon-looking things that fall from trees and remind me of cattails crossed with pine cones and a thick worm.  “Really?!” I thought.

I had been lying down in and rolling around in the yard the night before, and apparently hadn’t even noticed that I had gottten some of these guys in my hair.  I slept with that in my hair.  How bad is that?

So, I grabbed the twig thing to toss it out the window (which was closed at the time).  As I was starting to pull it from my hair, being careful not to have it fall apart into my hair, I noticed a sort of burning sensation in the joint of my first finger.  As I brought my hand down from my head, twig thing in-hand, I began to panic.  I flung it to the ground in the shower, and began shaking my poor hand that had been holding it.  I might even have shouted, or even begun to cry loudly.  I vaguely remember my mom coming in to check what was wrong as I was crying in the shower… 

“What is it??”

“I just…[sob] got stung…[sob] by a wasp.”

“What???”

“It was in my hair… and I grabbed it… and it stung me.”  The sobbing continued, I believe.

It wasn’t that I was in extreme pain, so much as that I was extremely surprised.  First, I had been surprised at my having left tree stuff in my hair from the night before, rolling in the grass.  And then, I found out that a wasp had somehow gotten in through the closed window, landed on me as I rubbed in my shampoo, and then stung me as I removed what I thought was a stick or pine needle or pod thing.

Perhaps that’s why I left this conditioner here so many years ago.

Post-a-day 2017