Rebirth
Winter is my favorite time. Yes, longer dark hours make me more prone to depression (always a possibility with bipolar disorder), but they also fuel my imagination and creativity.
I’m working on my blog links, retooling my focus. Moving away from being a “local blog” is really my goal right now. Someone said (okay, it was one of Lindsey’s Facebook updates, but it’s worth quoting), sometimes getting away from something trumps knowing what you’re running to.
The Number Eleven
One of my Twitter followers had this to say to me this morning:
@methodusti Hope you had a good 11th anniv. I was hoping your blog would indicate it as a bigger event, anything after 10yrs are milestones.
I tried explaining that last night’s post was interrupted by an anxious husband–I’ll let you guess at that one.
Let me emphasize that our eleventh anniversary is a huge deal. In fact, anything after our third anniversary is a miracle because right around our third anniversary, we were involved in a gut-wrenching separation and near-divorce that almost killed us both. It ruined our spirits for a terrible long time. It screwed our credit up. We almost lost our house. I had to quit my job. My actions, part of which were (in my defense) caused by a bad experience with the drug Lithium (which works nicely for plenty of people and doesn’t cause them to go more bonkers), almost destroyed our family and tried to take down another equally troubled family with us.
It was a horrifying eight weeks. Our son was an infant. We had legitimate marital problems. I was having a genuine breakdown but didn’t recognize it. I had made my life about my husband, and nothing else, when he had never requested it. When I began feeling trapped, I blamed him.
We did an equal number of cruel and icky thing. There was enough blame to go around.
When push came to shove, though, my husband was not willing to give up. He figured out that I was going crazy–I really was going crazy–and that I needed an intervention of sorts. I filed for divorce. People at work knew something bad was happening but everyone felt helpless.
My sweet husband refused to let me go. He endured all sorts of humiliation because of my behavior, and yet he made it clear he still wanted to spend his life with me and was willing to work hard to do so. He knew I wasn’t doing these awful things on purpose, and frankly some of the things he and others tell me I did, I just don’t recall. I can’t believe I ever did them. Thank God I never put my baby, now an 8 1/2 year old obsessed with Muse, in any danger.
So Dante, you’re right: anything over ten years is a milestone. For us, and for plenty of other people, anything over even a few months is special.
Eleven years of marriage and getting better every day, more comfortable in our skins, more secure in our love that is not like the movies but more wonderful because we aren’t characters that started in someone’s head. We have a messy but lovely home; three creative, silly, smart-ass, intense children; two dogs that can’t decide if they love or hate each other; not enough time to have complete conversations all the time; and the best lovemaking ever. (For a more graphic rednering of these ideas, read what Kevin Smith [my favorite Jersey man] had to say about his and Jen’s anniversary, the same as mine & MrBossyPants’). It’s sweet but NSFW.
Songs in this post:
“Angel in the Snow” by Elliott Smith
“Julia” by The Beatles
“Why Do You Treat Me Like You Do” by Donovan (!)
“Lovestain” by Jose Gonzalez
“John’s Glass Eye” by Iron & Wine
“Clothes of Sand” by Nick Drake
Things I Learned This Weekend
My seven year old is afraid of fire, esp. the fire on the hibachi grill at the Japanese place.
Dressing up to go out to dinner is passe. So we looked silly all dressed up, but we didn’t care. We enjoyed the stares.
Anniversary sex doesn’t have to happen on your anniversary to be great. It can be the next day and that’s okay, too (we had our eleventh wedding anniversary on Saturday).
Fifteen years with the same person has a nearly equal number of negatives and positives. The hardest work is stacking the positives in your favor.
Nick Drake’s “Pink Moon” album is surprisingly good to listen to on a slow run.
I am back in my The Velvet Underground / Nick Drake / Leonard Cohen / Bruce Cockburn phase of music.
I reconnected with an old boyfriend. Not a romantic reconnection, obviously, but we had a great foundational friendship. Both of us have had hard times with our mental health over the years, though his times have been more trying, and looking back I can see why we were so close as teenagers.
Oh yeah, you can comment
This Jaga person left these two comments on the “Please Help Find Deanna Niven” post. Most of us probably knew from the start that she was not abducted but had the decency to not say mean things about her or her family. I plan on deleting this soon but wanted my readers to see what jogosinimontero@yahoo.com had to say about it.
Jaga jogosinimontero@yahoo.com 24.158.233.19
Submitted on 2009/04/23 at 2:57pm
I am thinking she had talked to this guys before going to wal-mart and just used mal-mart as a place of meeting This is less harsh than previous but is still from the same Jaga person. Will be deleted shortly. Just wanted people to see what this person thinks is appropriate to post to blogs.
I am thinking she had talked to this guys before going to wal-mart and just used mal-mart as a place of meeting
jogosinimontero@yahoo.com
Dee, Hope you had a nice time, The cops said you willingly followed the men into the van, which mean no force was involved, this I will assue to be that you’ve been looking to get laid so bad, and this happen to be your only opportunity. You put everyone else, your parent, the police department and your church members in fear while you ran off fulfiling your own sexual lust.
The movies, alone
A strange weekend fell into my lap. Friday night I had a sitter for my middle child and a friend’s two daughters, and my other two kids (the bread in the sandwich, if you will) were riding to spend the weekend with my parents in Montgomery. I had a book club meeting that night, unusual because we normally meet on Mondays. We’ve figured out that we can usually manage a better drinking night if we do it on a Friday. Sad but true. At the same time, a group of my blogger comrades–Hewy, Heather, Jessica, Charnita, Laura, Twisted Lisa, and the Bama Bargain lady, Terry (prob. spelled your name wrong and I am truly sorry)–were getting together at the Depot.
First, I’ll apologize to anyone who was trying to eat at the Depot in Old Town Helena on Friday between 7 and closing. We were loud. And we took up a lot of space. But goodness, it was fun. Charnita’s family came along, and even my antisocial husband seemed to have a good time. After Hewy pulled out his giant podcast orb and I accused him of eating like a woman, the group dwindled to just Heather, my husband, me, and the Give Me the Booger lady, whom I’ve known for six years or so because our children were friends in their preschool years.
I was proud of my husband for stepping out of his usual social role and coming along as a willing participant. He even engaged in conversation that wasn’t about bicycles or business.
Tonight the remaining kid is at a sleepover. Hubby did the Old Howard 100 and I decided to go see a movie alone. Before you start feeling pity for me, you should know I asbofreakinlutely love going to movies alone. Some movies are fun to watch with friends. The first time I went to see Twilight, I was with a group of six obnoxious women, all in our 30s and 40s, aka my best buds. But tonight I saw Adventureland. I’d heard the soundtrack was great (though I like r.E.m.’s version of “Pale Blue Eyes” more than Lou Reed’s, maybe because it’s the one I heard first as a kid) and so had high hopes for the movie. I was not disappointed.
I was one of five people in the auditorium. I had the whole back row to myself and put my feet up with my shoes off. Loved loved loved the movie. I think I even cried a little at the end. Besides capturing the spirit of the mid-80-s without going too much into cliche (like, say, That 80s Show, sorry Glenn), it was a sweet love story. Not sweet like Disney Princess sweet, but sweet like, gosh, that’s how everyone should be able to fall in love in their 20s.
I fell for my husband when I was 18 and never had that experience. I’m not saying it’s good or bad, just that watching it on screen makes me feel like I might have missed something. That’s what a good movie does: makes you question your life because you lack those particular experiences. I’m not unhappy, but a fresh perspective is good to kind of kick you in the ass.
EDITED TO ADD: Any movie that starts with “Bastards of Young” is worth watching.
Tea for 5k…and 5k for Tea
Well, I don’t know how many thousands were at Hoover’s Veterans’ Park last night for the Tea Party. It was insanely crowded. It helps that Shelby County is the wealthiest county in the state. We want to keep our money. I’m not ashamed of that. Even poor people want to keep their money.
I am glad I dragged my kids out to witness last night. At the same time, there were some people there even more fringe than myself. I am pretty subversive, honestly, so if these people make me uncomfortable they must be pretty off-the-wall. My favorite moment of the night was the guy dressed in Continental clothing (at a historical display) talking on his cell phone. I’d left my camera in the car, but it was priceless.
Gee,where’d your comments go?
If you wonder why I didn’t approve your comments on the Deanna Niven post, it’s because they’re not necessary. And no, I don’t HAVE to approve your comments My blog is not a democracy.
From the outset, it was obvious (at least to me) that the girl had not been abducted. When it was a missing person case, the details were our business. Now that she’s found and back in her parents’ custody, none of it is our business.
Move along, nothing to see here. Keep moving, keep moving.
Deanna Niven has been located
Got word on Facebook from Ben Niven that the police have located his sister, Deanna. No details yet but I’m sure you can check al.com and Shelby County Reporter and they’ll update when details are available.
Deep Breathing
I also want to let my locals know that the recent storms have ripped lots of branches from trees and bushes. But don’t be sad. Do you notice that heady scent in the air? It’s peppery. Imagine a really fresh, young radicchio. Had the storm not ripped those trees and bushes apart, the air would not be so intoxicating. this only means that I’ll spend hours focusing on breathing in and ignore the pile of birthday gifts still on the kitchen floor.
Help Find Deanna Niven
This definitely warrants a blog post.
Here is a copy and paste from Shelby County Reporter:
ALABASTER — A missing Helena girl was last seen at the Alabaster Walmart and police are currently looking for a vehicle in connection with the disappearance according the girl’s sister.
Deanna Niven, 16, was last seen Sunday evening when she went to the Alabaster Walmart to have some pictures developed.
This picture of Deanna Niven, 16, was taken just hours before her disappearance Sunday.
Stephanie Niven, Deanna’s sister, said Deanna left for Walmart around 6:30 p.m., and the family began searching for her sister two hours later when they could not contact her.
Upon arriving at Walmart, family discovered Deanna’s van with her cell phone inside.
Stephanie said it would be completely out of character for her sister to just disappear without calling.
She also said there is reason to believe Deanna could have left in an older model silver Dodge Caravan.
Information from the Alabaster Police Department has not been made available.
Anyone with information is asked to contact the Alabaster Police Department at 663-7401.
I can only imagine what this family is enduring right now. If you have a Facebook account, Ben (Deanna’s brother) has set up a group there.
Ms Bossy Pants 