Life

I feel like I should write. Not for you guys (though I'm certain you're hanging on my every word), but for me.

I feel like I should be taking pictures and singing in the rain and dancing for no apparent reason - like I should be doing these things, you must understand, not that I want to.

I don't want to be at work - only 48 minutes left, and I don't want to come back tomorrow, despite work having been - well, for the job that it is, it's been pretty darn sweet.

My life is dull, I think. It's wonderful and it's peaceful and it's lovely and it's occasionally (more frequently than I would like to admit) lonely, but - in general - it's dull.

No. Dull isn't the right word. It's dull like the ocean on a still day. It's dull like a perfectly cloudless sky. It's dull like a dead tree, carved and sharpened by sand.

The little things perk me up - like C bringing home meatloaf, or finding the perfect pair of earrings or hearing my favorite song.

And it's not like it's a rut either. And for once, I can say it's definitely not limbo.....it's just my life. And perhaps I've gotten to used to it - but I not (looking around for the tricksy hand of the gods) ASKING for it to be shook up, just to be clear. A wee shake-up would be very nice, and much appreciated, though.

I'm going to get a tattoo this weekend, I think.

I can't remember if I mentioned this before, but I realized (in one of those melodramatic flashes of insight), that I'm unbalanced - tattoo wise, and being wise. I - I can't walk that delicate middle line - social, but not to social, open but not too open, wise but not a smartass, silly but focused, eager but cautious. And I want to walk that line - I'm not asking for it to be easy - but I would like to feel a bit less like a drunken sailor.

Anyhow. The only tattoo I have right now is fire.... and to balance it, I'm going to get three more - water, earth, and air. Water is going to be my next one - perfectly balancing fire (which is on my right hip) by being on my left hip. After that, I suspect me & C might finally get our 'matching' tatts, if I can ever finish designing them.

Then Earth, low on my back, right over my spine. Then Air, on my shoulders.

I don't know how long it will take me, but I know it feels enourmously right. I got fire first, oh so many moons ago, because I felt like I lacked passion. I've learned, over that time, that I don't lack in passion in the least - I just wasn't trying to bring my passion to bear on the RIGHT things. Now, I feel like I'm ready to accentuate ALL of my aspects.

My hair, she is growing.

My ass, is shockingly enough, staying the same damn size (too large) without me fighting to keep it there. Even MORE relieivingly, my 'stable' weight is ten pounds LESS than it used to be. Go figure. We have almost finished putting together the fitness room - I need to order another packages of matting, and we need some fans and an A/C unit, and then I can start working on reducing the size of my ass.

My garden, she is growing like wild things - the cukes and the pumpkins are plotting on how to take over the world, the sunflowers are taller than me, the strawberries are finally producing (though, I don't think I like them, and might buy a new strain next year) the peppers are moving slow, and all of the tomatoes I PLANTED flipped me the bird - but a volunteer from LAST year showed up. It is green, and glorious, and dear god, I'm never going to want to eat another cucumber again.

(left side is pumpkins, right side is cukes). At least I can freeze pumpkin puree.

C is doing wonderfully, working his ass off and his heart out and really making that hotel BETTER. And he loves every minute of it. We've been together for almost seven years, and it feels like barely the blink of an eye. We still ain't perfect, but I never even pictured we would be this close to it.

The FatCat is still ruling the roost - though we think he encountered a snake a while ago, as he was skittish as all get out - he damn near levitated when I shifted the hose suddenly, and he's met a dog (and learned that the tops of cars are wonderful places to hide, much to C's dismay) but he still thinks he's the shit. And of sweet heavens, he's shedding like a..... like a.... like a double coated cat in 90+ degrees temps who spends equal amounts of time outside and in an unairconditioned house, and if I ever get into the yarn/spinning thing, I could totally make a sweater. A full body sweater.

The house... well. This has been the last thing we've worked on.

Going from this:

to this:

One thousand, four hunded, and twenty, if you were wondering how many books there were. And I still need/want/crave/desire more. I've come out of the book dragon closet, and I'm proud, dammit.

So. See? It's life. It's quiet, and peaceful, and comfortable and calm, and as much as I dance on the edge of wanting a sudden squall to sweep there - I'm happy - really happy - as it is.

How YOU doin'???