Here's the Thing

Sometimes I just can't believe that she's gone.

And I swear to you, sometimes I also can't believe that this is still gripping me like it is.

Because the fact is, as I have probably already mentioned, it's not like she was in my life for that long. Because if you leave out the first meeting and the annual Christmas Eve "Hi, how are ya's", we're talking less than 2 years. I made a list. Did I already tell you this? I made a list of all the times we were together from the time when it was clear we were going to actually be friends. And out of the 20 or so times on that list (I'm not kidding you...20 times or so) there were even fewer that were just her and me. And then she frakkin' died and I will NEVER get to talk to her again, or read her insightful blog posts or FB status updates (seriously...the silence from her now non-existent FB page is deafening) or hold her in my arms.

I didn't actually hold her in my arms that much, either. She wasn't a hugger in the way I am. She hugged, mind you, but not in the impulsive, "hi, I just met you but I'm pretty sure I love you" golden retriever way that I hug. And the last time I hugged her was in the doorway of my house. And she felt so fragile and small. I hugged her gently because it felt like she would break. And only a few weeks later she did.

I swear, I am still trying to figure out why there is this giant hole in my heart where Suzanne used to be. Because on the face of it, this shouldn't be so hard. I mean, omg, if this is what losing Sooz is like, I am waaaaay ill-equipped to lose any of the people with whom I have so much more history.

Sometimes I think it's just because of the baby - who I love and who I promised to always be there for and who is never going to know the mom who was so amazing and loved her so much. The baby who sometimes calls me "mama" because it's what babies do but whenever she does it just kills me because I am so not her mama. And more to the point, the kid isn't even going to remember her mama. And that breaks my heart. Because Sooz was the sort of woman who should be remembered. Especially by the baby she loved so damn much.

And sometimes I think it's just because of Peter...who I once loved and who is now back in my life in a whole new way and also in a very old and comfortable way...and thinking of the young boy I first knew and how just, well, WRONG it is that he should be a widower.

And then there are times when I know that I'm sad just for me. For what ain't never gonna be. I got this sliver of a glimpse at what friendship with her looked like and it's gone and I'll never know the comfort of it.

Mourning is a very selfish thing. I already figured that out. But, apparently, I'm not through with it yet.

Yippeeeee!

Nineteen years ago, on the Autumn Equinox, I woke to a very foggy morning. Around noon the fog lifted to reveal the most gloriously perfect fall day. So I got all dressed up, walked to the Cathedral with friends and married The Spouse.

How, you ask, will we be marking this ocassion? The way all 19th anniversaries should be celebrated: with some chicken curry, Veuve Cliquot and the season premiere of "Glee", of course!

I love you, Spouse. I can't fit into my wedding dress anymore, but other than that, I'd do it all over again.

It's Friday Morning and that Means....Donuts!

Just in case you're checking in because you are looking for a PR recap, sorry. I'm over it. Still watching, of course. Still taking a ridiculous interest in who is in and who is auf. (Bye bye, Casanova...not really gonna miss you - although it bears noting that neither MAB or I were remotely horrified by his ensemble last night. The way Kors was going on about it was really over the top. It didn't scream resort wear but then, neither did the winning garment. We thought Ivy should have gone home, both because her outfit was ugly and boring and also because she's a ring-tailed biatch who thinks far more of herself and her talent than the evidence can prove. And even though Andy's design was the most resort-y of the top three, we really like April and it was good to see her win. Plus, any time Gretchen is merely safe is a good day. Still not enjoying her at all, despite the attempts by the producers in the last 2 weeks to make her look like a laid back, fun person who loves her mommy. Whatever. Still can't STAND to hear her pontificate on the shortcomings of the other designers. OH! And we totally, totally loved what happened between Michael C and Mondo. When The Gunn came in with the velvet bag and teamed up the designers, when Mondo got visibly sick at the thought of having Michael C sew his design, when he trash talked Michael and told him to his face that he didn't have any respect for his ability we were - once again - flummoxed. Michael C has won 2 challenges. He may have a less sophisticated method of construction than the folks who aced Home Ec Sewing (that would be you, Ivy), you a) don't win a challenge without some talent for something, 2) his second win, for the renovation of a horrible bridesmaids dress was fantastic and C) unless there is something really significant that the producers are leaving out of the show, we just do NOT get the general disrespect and obvious loathing that the other designers have for Michael C. Does he chew with his mouth open or something? Seriously. So when he worked with vigor and commitment on Mondo's (immature and eye hurting) design and when Mondo recognized that Michael had more skillz than he had been given credit for and when Mondo apologized and even praised Michael C it was really quite wonderful. They were even sitting in the green room with their arms around each other. Mommy loves a good redemptive moment).

But I'm not doing recaps anymore.

Oops. Guess I just sorta did.

Oh, Mr. Sheffield

And another thing. This blogging from work thing is pretty great because if I finish soon enough I have time to browse other blogs which, as you know, is at least have the fun of blogging. But for some reason I can't leave comments on JP's blog. That really makes me mad. But at least he's blogging regularly. That makes me happy.

Rise and Shine

There are a lot of issues that get people pretty het up these days. But the one that bothers me the most doesn't seem to get any attention from the right, left or center. The silence on this subject is deafening. And to me, offensive. Am I really the only person who thinks that there should be a constitutional amendment preventing school from starting before Labor Day?


The good news? Aside from the fact that Labor Day weekend involved copious amounts of sitting around? This year The Child is taking Zero Hour, an opportunity afforded upperclassmen to take an extra credit of something. That means she can't take the school bus in because she starts at 7am. So I have to drive her in. (Because public transportation would mean that she has to leave the house at, like, 5am and while I am, without question, the worst mother in the world, I'm not going to make her do that). But if she has to get up at 6am then that means I have to get up at 5am. Because mama just ain't happy if she doesn't get some time alone in the house. And staying happy is more important than sleeping in. Yes, I just wrote that.

"Good news?" you say. "How can getting up at 5am for anyone who isn't a farmer or commercial fisherman possibly be good news?"

Well, not only do I get my quiet time, without which I would quickly crumble to dust and blow away, but it means I get to the office at 7:30, a good 30 minutes before my tour starts. "At work a full 30 minutes before you have to be?" says you. "How can that POSSIBLY be good news? Why would you go to work when you don't have to? Who does that?"

Don't you see? Now I can blog from work just like all the cool kids! Who knows? Might even become a habit. Again.