Abandoned

Jeff left me.

Not like that - he just abandoned me for a few days. He's on lovely Cape Cod playing golf with his friend and having dinner at Mahoney's. He's having the chicken, which is a complete waste of going to Mahoney's, but he's seafood-averse. I'm not at Mahoney's - or Cape Cod. I'm just here - with the cats. They're happy because they can sleep on the bed and have all of my attention. They think Jeff doesn't like them and they are happy when he goes away. Me - not so much.

I'm just not good a looking after myself. I get bored and don't eat enough vegetables and don't stay focused on my homework. I wake up during the night and I'll probably have popcorn for breakfast tomorrow. You would think with no Jeff to distract me all my homework would be done, and the laundry and the yardwork. Nope - none of that. It's like I'm just waiting for him to get back so I can do all that stuff and not pay attention to him. I make no sense whatsoever.

I did get to cook stinky seafood for supper, though. That was nice. But that's about it.

Maybe he'll read this and miss me, too and bring me a present when he comes home. Like a seashell. Or jewelry. Or a cranberry scone from the Cottage Street Bakery. Or a bottle of wine from the Truro Vineyards. Or Fred will get him to go shopping before he comes home and he'll find a nifty piece of art. (O.k. - no way will Fred get Jeff to go shopping, but it was worth a try).

Anyway - I'll try to be good and stay out of trouble for the next couple of days. Wish me luck.

The Power of Nothing

So we took Saturday night off. Of everything. We didn't cook food or do laundry or homework. We had an early dinner at a restaurant and came home plunked ourselves on the couch for the night. Jeff got me 2 seasons of the West Wing that I didn't already have for my birthday and we watched a half dozen episodes, with popcorn and everything.

I know - doesn't sound blogworthy - but for us it seems we never take that kind of time and I'm here to tell you, it's totally worth it. Totally. Today I'm refreshed, relaxed and feel like I had a really nice date last night (which I did). I tackled a school project with a clear head and focused direction.

So since I'm a student of public policy, I'm trying to quantify the benefits of last night so we can incorporate these opportunities into the federal or state budgets. Pass a law requiring downtime. Mandatory minimums on fun. Once-monthly pajama days. National Election-and-Nap holidays, so you go to vote only after you're well-rested and capable of reasoned reflection (super Tuesday would be so much more mellow).

I think I just identified my master's thesis topic.

Symbolism

Last night I went searching through my jewelry box to find appropriate Irish stuff to wear for St. Patrick's Day. What I ended up finding was a bit of my history and fond memories.

First I came across a pin that is made from marble from Connemara that my former work-friend Elizabeth got for me in Ireland about 14 years ago. I asked her to find something made from Connemara marble because my mother used to have a shamrock pin but it was stolen when our house was broken into and I'd hoped to find something just like it. So it was nice to remember that pin, and my mother, and Elizabeth, and my Auntie Dot and Auntie Kay who brought the shamrock pin home from Ireland for my mom.

Then there is the gold celtic knot ring I bought in Ireland when Jeff took me there for our 10th anniversary. It was in impulse buy at Shannon airport on our way out of the country and I was remembering how much I loved that trip and especially seeing so many people in the airport who looked familiar - like family. It was in the jewelry box next to the Claddagh ring I had bought for Jeff (that he never wore - that's another blog) when we were dating and I was pretty sure I had fallen in love and wanted him to know it.

Then there is the lovely silver celtic knot pendant that Roland and Amanda gave me for Christmas last year - we'd been to Ireland a second time by then and I think they knew how much I would appreciate the necklace - and I do - and think of them when I wear it.

So on this St. Patrick's Day I'm humming songs my mother sang and remembering my friends and family long gone. And my old Irish wish for you:

May your home always be too small to hold all your friends.

Erin go Bragh

Facebooked Part II

So now it's become a really goofy obsession - I've been transported back to high school and am again experiencing the angst of not being in the cool group and worrying about getting a date to the prom. I was sharing with friends at work how dumb this whole facebook thing is and the very next morning, got invitations from both of them to be facebook-friends. Now, since I'm up to 3 friends and thoroughly sucked in, I'm starting to seek more friends, lest those three think they're the only friends I have and start feeling sorry for me. So I invited someone to be a friend - and he agreed - so now the count is up to 4. I'm on a roll.

Of course I have to bring this nonsense with me to the hairdressers yesterday and while the adorable 20-year old is cutting my hair, I asked her, since she's 20 and not 40-something, about the whole protocol and if I had, say 5 friends, but they were really good-quality friends, can that count as being just as good as, like 130 "facebook friends" who are mostly just acquaintances that everyone piles up just to look like they have lots of "real friends." She assured me that I would appear just as cool with my few quality friends, so I'm backing off of the desperate begging for friends that I was considering. She also thought me very wise when I asked about the whole having-facebook-blog-monologues-instead-of-in-person-conversations and told me that she'd gotten into a disagreement with her friend but didn't know it until her friend wrote on her wall about it and now everyone knows about it. But no one's talking to each other about it.

Am I overthinking this?

What I think really needs to happen is for the snow to melt up here in the Berkshires and we can all go outside and play. Then blog about it...

Facebooked

So I got an e-mail from a dear friend the other day inviting me to look at her Facebook page. I have no interest in Facebook whatsoever and have been listening all week to the news reports about people surrendering all their rights, plus their firstborn children, when they decide to join Facebook. So when I got this e-mail, I was faced with the dilemma of just blowing off my friend or signing over all future royalties in order to join.

So I joined.

But here’s the thing. Now I can look and see what people are up to, see if they’re online at the same time I am and communicate electronically with them or just peek at their pictures. These are typically people I don’t make the time to call or visit with already. Now I have another vehicle to not have direct contact with them. I’m not feeling good about this. It’s bad enough that I have a blog and just say things at people without actually having a dialogue. Now we can have entire relationships without actually having relationships. And – here’s the added stress I don’t need: what if I don’t add friends – then it looks like I don’t have any friends. Or what if I just start adding people to make it look like I have friends, but really they’re not my friends – just acquaintances. Am I leading them on? What if I don’t like them that way… Or what if no one comes to my funeral, but lots of people sign the online guest book…

I’m going to call my friend. Or maybe just send her a link to my blog and she can read what I think.

Public Display of Affection

I love Valentine's Day.

I know - it's a big marketing thing that sets ridiculous expectations for high school boys and inattentive husbands, effectively setting most up for failure.

Still - I love having an excuse to reflect upon how much I adore my husband.

I had an assignment in class on Wednesday (it's an organizational behavior kinda thing) and I had to provide an analysis of my family as an organization. I was asked to consider what the long-term goals of the organization are, who makes the rules, how do we know what the rules are, what happens when the rules are broken - stuff like that. In considering my family organization to be me & Jeff, I was able to determine the structure of the organization is nearly perfect ~ we share the same long-term goals, decisions are made cooperatively with the good of the organization in mind. It's a partnership that emphasizes strengths, minimizes weaknesses and realizes a common-good. Plus there's kissing and stuff.

So - I'm happy on this Valentine's Day to tell my husband how much I love him and look forward to the rest of our journey together. To thank him for his love and support and to tell him how glad I am that we've held hands and jumped over the bumps in the road together. To say, Honey, I love you so much.

Wicked Nice

So I'm back in school and already overwhelmed with work and schoolwork (like I don't have enough excuses for not blogging) but had a really nice experience tonight. I ventured out of my regular program to take a class that's part of the school of education at UMass. What's a little amusing is that I didn't realize this course, that is approved by my program for Masters' level credit is part of the Doctoral program in education (yep, I'm a snotty CPPA student) so when I discovered that I expected to be completely out of my league and surrounded by brainiacs. In reality, I was just welcomed into the fold of a very tight group of people that are really smart, funny and wicked nice. They're all part of the same program and have taken lots of classes together so I was acknowleged as the outsider but treated like a new friend.

Also awesome was that I was assigned a group exercise with three other people (in a class of fifteen) and they were from three different countries - I'm feeling so diverse!

The best part - these are totally committed educators who are studying education policy (and all vowing to undue the damage of NCLB) - I just love that kids will benefit from these wonderful people. Truly inspiring.

I still have too much homework.