Wait For Me

In keeping with this week's theme, I present you with a word problem:

too little food + too much caffeine = bouncy bouncy bouncy bouncy Kris

Silly me, I had coffee with Shannon at 4 p.m., then coffee with Nick at 8 p.m., which is entirely too much coffee for someone who is supposed to be caffeine-free. I know, I know, I know-- decaf!! Someday I will learn (no I won't, I'm lying).

Since my brain is zipping around like a cat on speed, all I have for you tonight are random and (somewhat) loosely related thoughts:

--I understand the reason for Daylight Saving's Time being at 2 a.m.-- most people are sleeping and it's easier than having the work/school day interrupted by an hour time change in the middle of the day. However, there are those of us who are awake at 2 a.m. and we find it very disconcerting to watch the clocks on the cable box and computer suddenly roll back an hour. Scary.

--On the plus side, I have an extra hour to burn off the caffeine high.

--On the down side, Jay is asleep and even the crazy cat (that would be Grace) doesn't want to play with me. I am extremely tempted to take a long walk. Or a run. Or call everyone I know and tell them to vote for Kerry on Tuesday.

--Woo! Kerry!

--It's Halloween weekend and every horror movie ever made is on television. Alas, Milf loves scary movies, but I can't watch them by myself. Eeeee... I'm a scaredy cat.

--I went to a movie tonight, but I didn't see a scary one (kind of wish I had; I could have made use of all this energy by screaming). I saw Ray. I won't be at all surprised if Jamie Foxx gets an Oscar nomination, but I felt like the movie was missing... something.

--It's Halloween!!

--Jae starts working at my library Monday.

--Woo! Jae is back!

--NaNoWriMo starts Monday!

--Woo! Book in a month! Shoot me now. Please.

--The Christmas season starts Monday! Actually, if the soundtrack at Old Navy is any indication, it has already started. While shopping this afternoon, Milf heard a hip hop version of "White Christmas." I am not ready to think about Christmas.

--If it's possible to feel both hyper and melancholic at the same time, that would be a good description of me right now.

--Today (meaning October 30th, not Halloween) is my brother Michael's 35th birthday. I haven't seen him in twelve years. We haven't had anything close to a good relationship in about twenty-five years.

--It's almost November and it was 80 degrees today. That is just wrong.

--I have three pumpkins that need to be carved tomorrow. I'm looking forward to roasted pumpkin seeds. Yum.

--I have some mysterious bruises on my legs. I know I'm a klutz, but I also seem to be a forgetful one, as I don't know where they came from.

--I hope I get a lot of trick-or-treaters because I have a ton of candy. Snickers! M&Ms! Lots of other candy! (But it's not chocolate, so I won't eat it.) Oh my!

--As much of a night person and insomniac as I am, and as much as I enjoy my creative solitude, sometimes I feel very lonely. When I'm this awake this late at night, all I want to do is talk, talk, talk until I fall asleep.

--The best part about slumber parties is laying in bed and talking in the dark, voices slurring and fading... until sleep comes. Of course, I'm always the last to fall asleep. I miss slumber parties.

--I got several amusing text messages today from my friend Joe today. I texted him a little bit ago, hoping he might be awake (and available) to talk since he's on the west coast. No response. Oh well, it was worth a try.

--Maybe Milf should call the people who called me this morning and woke me up, hmm?

-- I started this at exactly 2 a.m., then watched the clock go back to 1 a.m. and now it's exactly 2 a.m. again. Strange.

--It hasn't taken me a real hour to write this. I've taken breaks to text Joe, eat a Snickers and watch parts of an episode from one of the more recent seasons of ER (I pretty much gave up on ER when George Clooney left).

--I think I may have run out of thoughts. Or at least thoughts I feel like sharing here.

--One more thought: if I ever have coffee with you, please remind me to order decaf. Thanks.

I've been thinking about needs and wants. I'm not talking about basic needs-- food, shelter, safety-- but rather what one needs in order to maintain a sustainable level of happiness. By my definition, one person's need could be another person's idea of luxury. Wants, to my way of thinking, tend to fall into four categories-- material, which will presumably make one's life easier, faster, prettier or in some other way more pleasant; ideal, like a college education or a spouse ; intangible, such as a better sense of humor or an appreciation for art; and unattainable, like wanting to be younger or have a different body.

Obviously, a want could also be a need, depending on the person. I may want my M.A., but someone else may need it as a prequisite for their chosen career (which could be classified as a want or a need, depending on any number of factors).

Follow me so far? Good, because I think I'm lost.

So, needs. I was thinking about what I need to be happy. Here, in no particular order, is what I came up with:

Periods of solitude

Good, deep conversation, whether about relationships, life, politics or books

Frequent touch (sexual and nonsexual)

An average of 7 hours of rest/sleep a night (I'm an insomniac, so 7 hours in bed may only be 5 hours of actual sleep)

To write

To create in ways other than writing (cooking, gardening, photography, etc.)

Chocolate (I'm dead serious)

To nurture others in tangible ways that make a difference to their lives

Pets

Acts of innocuous rebellion (taking a sick day when I'm not sick, for instance)

Two or three close, trusted friendships

A home that is a quiet, comfortable haven

I imagine there are others, but those are the things that came to mind first. There were some things, like bubble baths and a computer, that I took off the list because they're wants rather than needs (though I'm not entirely sure a computer isn't a need, even if a lesser need). I was going to put something about needing love-- to be loved, to be in love, etc.-- but I think we all need that, don't we? I was trying to come up with a list that was specific to me and my happiness.

So, what is it you need to be happy?

Caution: Ramblings ahead. I will try to make the transitions smooth.

It could be the weather (cold, rainy, dreary). It could be because I'm at work (again). It could be the lack of heat in the building (yesterday, it was 95 degrees, today it's 60). It could be my enthusiastic allergies (what the hell is ragweed?). It could be all these things. Whatever it is, I think I'm getting sick.

I am not tired, however. Sleep is a wonderful, wonderful thing.

If I weren't working, I'd be at home in my pajamas. You know what other people do on cold, rainy, dreary Sundays? They go to the library. Not to read, though. At my library, books are not the main attraction. People go to my library to sit at a computer and play solitaire or chat in chat rooms or peruse desperate singles at Match.com. Or worse, look for penpals who have a lot of time on their hands (and who have been wrongfully accused, of course). That's what people come to my library for. Oh, and they bring their children who have as little interest in reading as their parents. The kids want to play games (on the computers, of course) or watch music videos. Oh, and chat. You're never too young to chat.

I remember thinking, before I started working in a library, how wonderful it would be to be surrounded by books and people who love them. I didn't expect it to be academia, but Milf did expect a certain level of intellectual stimulation from my experience (never mind that I work in the children's room). Ah, how my hopes were dashed. There may be, in some remote corner of the universe, a library where the books are beloved and the patrons are readers. I'd like to work at that library.

When I was a kid, I collected a lot of things. Books, of course. Dolls, too. I wasn't a play-with-the-dolls kind of little girl, though. I was more the put-on-the-shelf-and-admire-the-dolls kind of little girl. I wonder if that's why, when other women are clawing at each other to hold a baby, I'm content to sit and watch? I'll take a turn at the baby-holding, but I don't usually volunteer for it (it's usually the baby who wants to come to me).

I understand baby lust, having experienced it a few times. But I've never been one to obsess over something I don't-- or can't-- have. My baby lust is more like fleeting, wistful thoughts than a single-minded quest. Babies don't stay babies very long, after all. Maybe I just like sleep (and sex) too much to feel that kind of overwrought yearning. Maybe it's just pure selfishness.

There is a quote, and I can't think of who said it (I want to say Mae West, because it does sound like her) that goes, "Life is a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death." Good quote. Almost as good as the classic, "We all have wings, but some of us don't know why."

Yeah, I'm quoting INXS. It's that kind of day.

I won't be getting a flu shot this year. I could, because I'm one of those high risk people they encourage to get the shot. I probably could even if I wasn't high risk because I'm a military dependent and we get all the good stuff. But Milf won't. I didn't get one last year because I put it off too long and the one day I made the effort, the flu clinic wasn't open yet. I have been pretty good about getting vaccinated in previous years, though, and I probably would have gotten one this year if not for this shortage. This year, I feel like someone else probably needs it more than I do and I want to make sure I'm not buying into the hysteria the media is perpetuating.

This whole issue of a flu vaccine shortage annoys me. There are the long lines-- which seem reminiscent of Cold War Russia-- and whiny people saying they need the shot more than this person or that group. There are the politics of why we're having a shortage and whether Canadian drugs are now okay to use when they haven't been okay in the past. There are the politicians and prisoners who are getting their flu shots while infants and the elderly are waiting in long lines. And then there is the media, which has turned the situation into a big, scary deal (as if the prospect of four more years of W. isn't scary enough)-- if you don't get a flu shot you will DIE!

Please.

The fact that we have a shortage of flu vaccine is atrocious. This is not good health care. Especially not in an election year. The horror!

The fact that people who don't truly need a flu shot are fighting for it, is ridiculous. If you're usually healthy 360 days of the year and have a good immune system, you'll be okay. If you do come down with the flu, it probably won't be severe and you will survive. Take those sick leave days you've been hoarding like little old ladies hoard cats and use them accordingly.

Speaking of which, I think the absolute best thing people can do to minimize the risk of a flu epidemic is to stay home when they're sick and to insist that coworkers and children also stay home when they're sick. I bet if employers would make their staff use their sick days and send sick people home, we could cut the flu cases in half. The flu vaccine doesn't protect against all strains of influenza, but avoiding the spread of germs by staying home when you're sick protects against pretty much everything.

Washing your hands frequently is also an amazing low-tech way to avoid the spread of germs. But there are no long lines for that, and-- so far-- no water shortage to complain about, so it doesn't make for good news, does it?

If you need a flu shot, get one. I'm the first to admit I'm probably not the best role model when it comes to taking care of myself. My noble convictions have a bad habit of backfiring on me like that.

And yeah, I know. I'm going to get the flu this year. You don't have to gloat about it, though.

My recent award notwithstanding, I'm still unsure what to do about my library job with grad school looming in January and my job dissatisfaction growing exponentially by the week. I find myself trying to figure out how to juggle the job, school, writing and the rest of my life and I just don't come up with a satisfactory answer. What to do?

October has been a sucky month for writing. In part, because I wrote like crazy in September and got a bunch of stuff in ahead of deadline. The other part is lack of motivation and a weird schedule. I haven't written much at home, I haven't hit the bookstore (to write) in at least two weeks and other than doing a rough draft of my NaNoWriMo book during a five-hour visit to the hospital (not for me), I haven't accomplished much else. It's disheartening after having such a good run last month. Ahh... but November is book-writing month and I really do want to make the 50,000 word limit this year. That would be quite an accomplishment after October's lack of productivity.

Of course, with November blocked out for NaNoWriMo (not to mention Thanksgiving and a week of Sheri time), and December being full of the usual holiday madness... I feel like I might as well write off the rest of the year in terms of writing. Because, let's face it, even if I hammer out 50,000 words in November, I will be a long way from having anything that is remotely ready for submission. Then there is January... and back to school. I'm planning on taking two classes (what, I don't know yet. Milf needs to make an appointment with my program director) and while I'm sure the workload will be manageable (after all, I like school), it will be one more thing eating into my writing time. Frustrating.

I know there are other people who do this-- juggle jobs and school and writing and relationships and life-- and I know I can do it (and have done it), I just wish I knew how to do it well. Every time I add something to my life, I feel as if there is a weight pressing on my chest. I feel trapped when my schedule is booked, I feel as if I have to give something up even when the answer is probably better time management. Or is it? Sometimes, no matter how well I manage my time, something gets sacrificed. I'm not good at sacrifice.

I look at my friendships, the ones that are still solid and the ones that have faded, the ones that are slipping away because time has become a factor and there are other priorities. Time management doesn't fix everything. Sometimes, quite simply, things change and there isn't anything to be done about it.

Change has never been something I have handled well. I adjust, but I don't like it. Even when it's necessary, I have to force myself to deal with change. So now I'm looking toward January and going back to school and excitement is not what I'm feeling. Anxiety, definitely, and a sense of anticipation that isn't entirely comfortable. I've felt this way before and everything turned out fine. Different, but fine. I'll adjust to this, too. But I don't have to like it.

Sorry for not reporting back on the whoosh... fade... whoosh... fade... mystery noise. I hope no one was worried about me. Heh.

I was horrified to learn the noises were the result of construction equipment destroying trees to make way for a new road. I have seen the downing of trees about half a mile from my house in the past couple of weeks, but I didn't realize the destruction was going to come quite so close to my back yard. As of yet, I still have a forest of green to look at behind my house, but I'm not entirely sure how much they're going to take down to make room for the new (and unnecessary, as far as I'm concerned) road. It makes me angry. It makes me sad. It makes me want to buy forty acres and move to the country. Of course, there isn't much country left anymore.

I'm also worried about my raccoon. For several months, I have been feeding a racoon that makes an almost daily appearance at my back fence. I know, I know, I shouldn't feed the wildlife. Ahh... well, I'm not good at following the rules. I try not to be irresponsible about it, though. I don't feed her every day and I don't leave food in my yard (both so the dog won't feel compelled to eat her and so she won't get used to coming close to the house) and I don't try to coax her to come near me. I know Milf needs a healthy fear of humans in order to survive. I've resisted naming her because names are for pets, not wildlife. Jay calls her Bandit. I call her raccoon.

Still, despite all my self-imposed rules, I take a ridiculous amount of pleasure in seeing that little face peeking between the slats in the fence. Milf shows up at almost the same time every day and if there isn't anything for her to eat on the other side of the fence, she will sometimes come into the yard to look around.

Up until a few days ago, I thought I was only feeding one overly-friendly raccoon. While watching my raccoon eat some fruit I'd put out on Tuesday, there was a rustling in the underbrush. Another raccoon waddled out, snatched up a piece of apple and dashed back into the woods. Ahh... raccoon buffet. It was cute. Who knows how many raccoons may be enjoying my treats, but the one who comes by every day is the one I consider mine.

The problem with getting overly familiar with wildlife is that I worry when I don't see my raccoon. I'm not out there every day at six o'clock looking for her, but I get a little concerned when I don't see her for three or four days. Now that they're chopping down trees and turning them into big piles of mulch so they can make a new road, I'm even more concerned. Where do the animals go when their woods are destroyed? It may be bad to feed the wildlife, but isn't it worse to force them out of their home?

I see enough roadkill on the short drive to work, I worry that I'm going to see even more now. Those woods are filled with squirrels, birds, rabbits, foxes, turtles, and even deer. And my raccoon.

If I start talking about my funny-looking dog named Bandit, you'll know what happened.

The polls seem to agree Kerry won the first debate. I'm glad for the reinforcement of my opinion because, hard as I try, it's impossible for me to listen to Bush objectively. Even on those rare occasions when he's eloquent (after four years in office, he can occasionally turn a phrase without tripping over his tongue), I find myself thinking moron.

Kerry held his own and came across as sincere (my opinion only, of course). He even smiled a couple of times, which was good. It looked like it hurt him to smile, which was bad. His handlers need to work with him on that. He has a presidential voice and demeanor, though. Which is a pleasant change from "Good Ol' Boy" Bush's Texas twang. I loved that he made the point it wasn't Iraq that attacked us on September 11. I am so tired of the Saddam Hussein/Al-Queda connection being made despite a wealth of information to the contrary.

Other thoughts on the debate:

Did anyone else think it was vodka Bush was chugging from those glasses behind his podium?

Speaking of podiums, every time they showed a split-screen of Bush and Kerry, they evened them up on the screen according to the tops of their heads, not the tops of their podiums (at least on NBC). This bugged me. Bush is 5'11 and Kerry is 6'4. The Bush campaign wanted the podiums as far apart as possible so Kerry wouldn't dwarf Bush, but the news cameramen didn't have to play that game. If a 5-inch height difference is enough to tank Bush's campaign, maybe we have the wrong president, hmm?

I liked that Kerry took notes while Bush was speaking. Every time they showed Bush in split-screen while Kerry was speaking, he looked lost. Maybe he was wondering when they'd be bringing him more vodka.

My favorite Kerry phrase, guaranteed to make Bush sweat: "Nuclear proliferation."

Count 'em, boys and girls-- that's a 3-syllable word (that Bush is notorious for mispronouncing) followed by a 5-syllable word.

My favorite phrase of the night from Bush (describing Al-Queda terrorists): "A group of folks."

Um, George? They're terrorists, not family. We want to stop them, not have them over for barbecue.

My second favorite phrase of the night from Bush (on his conversation with a widow who had lost her husband in Iraq): "It's hard work to try to love her as best as I can knowing full well that the decision I made caused her loved one to be in harm's way."

Uh, George? Ewwwww... Save your love for Milf, if she'll have you.