im pretty sure this is me venting a little

i am very cranky today. my natural state of being is 'lazy' and i have not been very respectful of that lately. i have even said the f-word a few times today, and i am not a swearer.

do you ever feel like you are sliding over ice (very thin and breakable) when trying to communicate with someone? i called a company to determine if they produce a certain type of steel and instead of answering my question i was given a spiel and i was completely unable to recover and determine whether what the person was saying was in any way an answer to my question. i re-asked my question and was given another spiel with a slightly defensive edge to it and again i was unable to find the means to clarify the encounter. finally i just told him i did not understand what he was saying and asked him for his email-maybe the written word will pull me out of the icy waters i've fallen in.

either way, i am cranky and i've just told my teammates that i cannot make the vball game tonight, which makes me feel relieved because now dirty clothes can get cleaned and food prepared for the week and sleep acquired but makes me feel guilty because i am the only girl who showed up last time (it's upper inter 4's) and my other female teammates do not show they will have to forfeit-and we are a decently good and competitve team. plus, i like vball so i miss it when i don't do it.

all i know is i need to be honorable to my natural state of being very soon...perhaps in the form of a few days off from work??? i do get that whole 4 week thing to think about. grr. argh.

Double booked

I made plans to see this bluegrass band in my 'hood tonight with an old roommate of mine who is moving to NY in a couple of months. I also made plans to see a Brazilian band downtown with a new friend of mine. I had not heard from Bluegrass friend, and after I called and left two messages, decided she was standing me up and I fatefully made other plans-not out of spite but because I genuinely wanted to spend time with this other friend and listen to music.

Secretly, I knew I wasn't being stood up but I was frustrated that she never returned my call (note: we never spoke about the event, I had just left a message asking if she wanted to go a month ago and she did not return my call until late yesterday) I meant to have gall and when she did call me to tell her I had made other plans but I sheepishly called the other friend and canceled, asking forgiveness. Then I called Bluegrass friend and re-established, or, just established, our plans.

I am happy to see her tonight, we only see each other once every 4-6 months or so....and she was once a very good friend. But I am not happy about my insecurity and behavior and ultimately, my attachment to the situation in general.

I will not go into detail but every once in awhile life jerks you back to the past in a such fierce way that you begin to question yourself and feel all uncomfortable in your skin and *gurg*, I like it not.

New name

Let's face it, I haven't been a waitress for several years. And I am no longer disgruntled. I am quite content, really. This blog has taken the place of my diary, er, journal (last regular entry was circa 2003) and while I can pretty much guarantee the raw stuff that usually goes in the journal (much more grown up word than 'diary') did not and does not make the cut for this blog, the blog has still accomplished the feat of soothing my overly obsessive mind at times and given clarity to turmoil over the years.

So hence, the new name....delineations. I think I may still have to revive the journal, some thoughts should remain raw and uncut.

But it was time for a change. Not a big one. But a change.

Buried Steel

So I've finished up the cheese project. Rick, one of the suppliers who participated in the event is going to send me a few pounds of cheese as a thank you. It's because I am fabulous and helpful.

I am currently working on four other projects, one of which is disposable gloves. I can't tell you who the disposable gloves are for, but think MAJOR FAST FOOD CHAIN. It is very interesting- I have a hand in helping billions of people get gas and indigestion.

My next project? Steel sheets for coffins. I'm not kidding. Next week I begin researching manufacturers who make steel sheets for coffins. Quality steel, mind you. Not the cheap raw steel for use in countless other products, but the pretty kind that gets buried with memories and broken hearts.

Days later....

She sits at her desk and craves....something. She smells the ghost of a taste and wonders what delightful memory hides just outside of her consciousness. She stares sublimely at the steel and stone buildings outside her window, framed by sunshine and blue sky, and tries to recall the taste-Indian? Persian? But no, it's Ethiopian food she craves as her stomach starts to remind her of her simple human need for sustenance every few hours.....mmmmm.....Ethiopian.

you know it's late when....

You say "It gut my wrench," about a movie (Children of Men) and the one person you are with says, "Yeah, me too," and the other person you are with merely murmurs a wordless assent and then you all move on without the slightest acknowledgement.

I don't feel nearly as bent as I thought I would this morning which is nothing but fantastic. The weekend was wonderful an mildly exhausting and now we are all IPG-ing and I am slotted to teach teach teach all week. I am looking forward to some things I have planned.....

I can take the tenderness but not the taste

Made my second trip to the dentist this week (it seems one more is in order after this) and they finished the 'deep cleaning' needed to attack my rather decidedly stubborn gingivitis. Next week we tackle the small small cavity. Three visits in all is not bad after a 7-year hiatus.

Doctor S very efficiently applied the anesthetic to my upper gums and within minutes I felt numb and she proceeded with her cleaning, sticking the pointy thing in my mouth and deep into my gums....it was only slightly painful (anesthetic!) and apparently very bloody.

Because of the blood I was prescribed a mouth wash for the next....year. Morning and night. After I brush and before I floss. I am gross. It is gross. On Tuesday I tried to eat breakfast after the mouth wash and could not not taste my food. At lunch I could not taste my food. Finally at 8 pm that evening I could taste my food.

My gums are still a bit raw and tender after the cleaning. Kind of like I imagine they are when you are a baby and your teeth are coming in. I actually enjoy flossing b/c it feels like scratching an itch. But I could do without the mouthwash, thank you. Thank you very much.

One thing to note though, when I left the Dr's office and wandered around my neighborhood in an anestheticzed haze, I kept touching my upper lip, which felt indescribably soft. Softer than my lower lip. It got me thinking. I touch myself all the time and never feel like that. (ok no need to go THERE, you know what I am saying) But I was thinking about the sensation of touch and how there are two things going on when I touch my own lip. I feel my lip with my finger and I feel my finger with my lip. Both body parts are sending signals to the brain simultaneously.

Which brings me to the question; was my lip soft because of the anesthetic? Or because for once, I could feel my lip with my finger without my lip feeling my finger? (Does that make sense?)

Does the way my finger feels somehow cancel out or negate or equalize the standard lip softness and the medicine allowed me to take a perspective on my own person that I had never experienced? I would have given anything at the moment to have a friend around to verify the varying level of softness of my upper and lower lips...that is weird I know but come on, isn't this interesting?

accomplishment

I've been on this ten week plan to get me to running 1 mile to running 5 miles. I decided in order for me to finally and really get in shape after quitting smoking that I would have to set an action type goal rather than 'just work out' and I've been toying with the idea of doing a triathlon. Trouble is, I've HATED HATED HATED running. I like biking and swimming, though I am not so good at it at the moment.



But running is another thing coming, literally. But a little over a year ago I ran for three minutes and walked for 30 and it felt like death. I have been slowly working my way up to running for about 17 minutes, when a couple of months ago when I asked a co-worker and marathon runner to help me work my way up to 6 miles- the distance of a 10K run-typical for the type of triathlon I am interested in.



Hence, the plan...which requires that I run 4 or 5 days a week with increasing time and distance goals. I went to NY a couple of weeks ago and had to take some days off due to severe lower back pain (bad air mattress sleeping). So last week I took it easy, running 3 times and only 1-2miles a day. I felt like crap trying to go one mile last week. But this week I am determined to forge through with my schedule. If I start from where I left off, this week I run 3 miles a day, 4 days a week, with one day reserved for 'x train' or volleyball, in my case. Next week I run 35 minutes 4 days, the week after I alternate 40 and 30 minute runs, with the last day being 4 miles, and so on for another three weeks until I've hit 5 miles. Then I will work it up to 6 and voila!


Crazy right? I would have quit long before now if hitting these gradually increasing goals wasn't so ridiculously satisfying. It's kind of like my new cigarette, if you will. ENDORPHINS. This morning I ran a lovely 3 miles and it felt so damn good. And who doesn't like that feeling?