More Goals

Very excited for the quilt I want to start, after finishing alll these other projects. Sean's, the mix of men's shirts (or perhaps it'll be flannel instead of dress blue) will be stunning for his birthday. I very much hope he enjoys it. And for me? A scrap / strip quilt. I think it'll be fantabulous.

Also -

Write a book.

Inspiration struck last night at 4 am. A book about a young, almost 30-year-old book editor who takes over the sale of her grandfather's house after he passes away. They've always been enormously close, and they bond over their shared love of literature, as not only was her grandfather a bestselling novelist, but he was also dearest friends with everyone from the Beat poets to J.D. Salinger. After his death, her mother goes into a deep depression, and the young book editor decides to handle the sale of the house, her grandfather's stunning sprawling Long Island dream-house. During all this, she meets a handsome young fellow on the commuter train who challenges her ideas of romance. Alas, a tragic accident befalls him, and he almost dies in the middle of their blossoming love, which in turn teaches her about death and acceptance. She sells the house and decides to write a book, inspired by her grandfather's legacy.

I Can't Get No...

Dr. Goldman (peach) has said that right now, in these times of abrupt and difficult transitions, I have to do things that leave me fulfilled. Things that I, by myself, do, things that nurture me in small or big ways. So I've decided to make a list:

Baking things

Cooking delicious meals

Reorganizing

Cleaning

Knitting my scarf while watching TV

Snuggling with a glass of wine in the evening

Watching plants grow

Gardening

Taking walks

Wandering through Second Time Around

Writing

Refinishing projects

Reading through old magazines

Cleaning out the basement

Goodwilling / thrifting

Painting my nails

Reading good books

Quilting

Got The Wanderin' Blues

January leaves me bluesy and in the dumps. This weekend was rough. A lot of tears and gnashing of the teeth. The cold, the wet, the rain, the darkness... it all leaves me feeling so fragile and sandpapered. It leaves me with a profound sense of restlessness, of unhappiness with the direction my life has taken, and no amount of pampering or careful self-love ever really leaves me fulfilled. I find myself hating my job and feeling underappreciated, and I feel lonely, misunderstood, and dull. It's depressing, and it's miserable.

Tired

Of my effin' UTI.

Tired of my face breaking out like madness on wheels. Retinoid, I'm done with you.

Tired of Democrats, Republicans, all of it. Sick to death of political battles and pundits and scandals. Scott Brown won. Fuck that man.

Tired of work being scary and feeling incredibly overwhelming.

Tired of being a fat lard.

Tired of sadness and fear.

W.T.F.T.

WTF Tuesday.

Scott Brown and Martha Coakley are neck-to-neck. In hindsight, my own troubles aren't nearly as significant.

But Jesus Christ, after fitfully sleeping and waking up every two hours, the attack of the UTI at 5 am was pretty brutal. Combine that with my 5:40 am shower after lying awake staring at the ceiling, my morning trip to Shaw's only to find that they don't carry meds for UTI's, and then my way-too-early polls trip... grrr. I want to go back to bed THIS MINUTE. I'm terrified that Scott Brown's going to win, and we'll go down the shitter in flames. Dear sweet Jesus. Please let Martha win.

And then I come into work, to an array of problems that I'm dealing with: at least book group is cancelled tonight. I'd just skip it.

But thank you, Rachel, you ugly-as-sin-cunt for DESTROYING the copy machine beyond the point of no return. What the fuck. Sitting on the pitch call listening to her slam shit into place... I just... dear sweet Jesus. This week already sucks.

I. Hate. Today.

Crafty Goals, Mon

Crafty / decor-inspired goals for 2010 (yeah, yeah, I've posted this):

Paint a picture

Stretch silk scarves over canvas

Refinish bureau

Refinish chairs

Make a headboard

Finish quilt for self

Finish quilt for Sean

Craft a seed-bead cell necklace

Sew a dress

Sew a fleece yoga sweatshirt

Craft a fabric flower necklace

Start doing own Polaroid photography

Knit mittens

Paint bookshelves in bedroom

Fashion bulletin board for back of closet

Have a garden

Paint shelf mirror in bedroom

These are my goals. I'm going to work at accomplishing at least one a month. There are seventeen in all.

Woooooo!

More Therapy

Also, take a more active approach to each of our fears.

I.E. when he's withdrawing, I saw "I noticed you're withdrawing, and I suspect it's because I'm (smothering you, arguing with you). I'm feeling a little uneasy and weird right now, which is why I'm smothering. If you could just give me some reassurance or a hug, I will be in a better place to give you the space you need."

Wow. I can do that.

Mantra

Air is good.

Space is good.

Light is good.

Nobody's dying.

Nobody's leaving.

You have to trust that he will give you what you need.

Thank You, Weekend

For being relaxed, laid-back and lovely.

Thank you for letting me take care of half the shit I needed too (blinds! lampshades!), and for letting me see my friends. Thanks for two workouts (half-assed, but still!). Thanks for True Blood, Harry Potter, delicious dinner, and wine. Thanks for naps cozied up with Bear.

Frigid? NONSENSE.

I've always had big hangups about sex. Namely, that I'm this weird, frigid creature who can't get off "during". I've always loved sex with Sean (don't get me wrong). He's incredible and sexy and yummy and I can't get enough of him and he seems to always know what feels good. But last night... last night was out of control.

I've always been envious of Sean's exes who orgasmed from sex (just one, actually - biiiitch). I've always felt that there was something missing in our sex life, mainly the common, shared goal of INTERCOURSE, of orgasming from intercourse. He can always get me off, but he does, and then I fuck him. There was the disconnect, again. We weren't sharing the experience. But last night, orgasming simultaneously with him, while feeling him push into me was the most incredible feeling that I've had in a long time. I was thoroughly, completely satiated. Although it wasn't the most earth-shattering orgasm per se... (I mean, aren't they all good?), knowing that we had reached this experience together was what mattered. Sex wasn't quick, or easy. It was good and sexy and delicious and languid.

YES.

Once Again - Goals

1. Make a headboard - refinish my bureau.
2. Sell a book.
3. Go to the gym at least three times a week.
4. Get a raise and save it - increase 401K, pay off more student loans.
5. Less expectation - more trust.