OK. This shouldn't be in the category "My Messy Life." It should be in the category "My Messy *&%**#@ Life." Who knew moving would be so hard? It is exhausting. But, I finally found a quiet moment to write.
The best thing we have done this week was go to the Fairhaven Farmer's Market. We had done something mundane and painful (but I can't remember what) and were "in town" and so decided we would go to the fm before we went home. We snuck in, sans stroller, I might add, and bought one almond croissant, one brownie, one chocolate chip cookie, and one cup of coffee. We sat on the grass and listened to the band, called The Rustix. I thought they were pretty good, but what do I really know? They had that "we only get out into the sunlight once or twice a year" look to them but they sounded good to me and it was fun to just sit and listen and let the kids run around, play with the flags and hula hoops and enjoy the sun. The food wasn't bad either.
Later we had visitors who saved my life by helping me put together a bench, move a shelf, and unpack some boxes. Unbelievable how quickly they all did it while it would have taken me three days and a whole lotta frustration and snappiness to my kids. (Oh yeah, I am officially The Worst Mother In The World now.)
Even later a long lost cousin popped up and brought a bizarre twist to the whole situation by being exceedingly helpful and totally helpless at the same time. He tried to get on the ferry without ID, and only a passport made ten years ago which had expired four years ago??!! He had a good point when he said he couldn't get another ID until he got home to Alaska, but it was interesting that he didn't share any of this until I took him to the terminal and was waiting to make sure he got on OK. Miraculously, the first mate let him on. Who the hell knows why. I wouldn't have. But hooray for the first mate who took the expired-for-four-years passport in these times of George Bush's War On Terrorism. Alaskans follow their own rules, George.
Which reminds me that I am missing Alaska. Actually, no. Scratch that. I am missing Alaskans. I am missing people who use foul language. I am missing people who talk about things other than their kids' soccer season and how bad their kids' last teacher was and other such bullshit. God, it feels like I will strangle on it. I also miss people who actually work for a living. What the hell is up with these pansies down here? They work six hour days in air conditioned stores and never get their hands dirty and then they nearly faint with exhaustion. So, what do you do? Oh, I work at T Mobile. Oh, yeah, what do you do? I sell air. Wow. We have deluded ourselves no end.
And I am missing the late light. Here it is getting dark around 9:00 pm. I guess I am used to it, but I would love to stay up until midnight and have it still be sunny. I would love to look at the clock and see that it is 2 am and the sky is just starting to turn lavender. That would be great. Just one last time. I will get the chance when I get to Anchorage and I can't wait.
I guess I will get used to being a soccer mom. But, I sure as hell don't want to. Let me clarify. I love that my daughter wants to play soccer. I want her to be like Mia Hamm and kick everyone's ass, but only if she wants to. And I don't want to be there screaming and rooting her on. I don't want to be in the little mom gaggle, sitting around gossiping and talking about the Pampered Chef party so and so had the other night. Although I want to be invited to the party and I want to go to the party. I just want to be aloof from the party and the after party dissection. In other words, I want to live down here, but I don't want to act like I do. It takes a bit of figuring out to even know what the hell I want.
But, like my good friend S (are you reading S?) said to me in a very encouraging email:
"Crikey, Rome wasn't built in a day!"
I think I have been missing blogging. I am going to jump on bloglines and see what I have been missing.
