there will be really, really good wine

I almost only dare to utter this in a whisper, but alas that is difficult to do in typeface... {{whisper}} But this evening, I get to stay in my new house. Over a year since we broke ground, we are packing up the essentials for the cats, the dog, and the two humans and opening the bottle of cakebread that we bought back in October for this very occasion.

And, there is a package of applegate genoa salami that I will admit, I am almost as excited about as the wine.

I need to hit a big pause button somewhere, and just find the time to steep in this moment - first night in the house - and not get so overwhelmed with go go go on the details. Another tick in the wine column, I think.

I also need to hit a refresh or reset button and be more loving and caring of myself in the weeks ahead. Clear out the cobwebs from my brain, slow down the frantic doing and finishing and worrying and stressing. Down grain and sugar, up veggies and lots of sleep. Or something along those lines.

Maybe it's partly because a larger part of me has a very, very difficult time believing that I am about to move into a beautiful house that I've helped build, built by people I love, crafted in a place that I love... Like, really dude, it's your house. You'll drive your Prius to your house with your cats and your border collie.

So, love that. Feel it, dig it, smile, deep breaths, be present.

And eat more vegetables.

And run. Be nice to yourself - let yourself find the time to run again.

As nic would say, it's all good. And really, now, it is. So enjoy it.

let the sun shine

After days and days of grey, haze, chill, snow, and general unpleasantness, today at last the sun is peeking out from behind the clouds and the temperatures are getting closer to comfortable. It's amazing what a difference a little sun makes. Makes me wish for some time off, to get outside and get some exercise and get my mind dehazed as well.

The lack of exercise has really taken a toll. The lack of sleep has, as well, and the abundance or general lack of lack of unhealthy food. Maybe it really is time to embrace the transition - celebratory feast such as it will be, move and move and more move, and then new digs, new routine, new day to day. High time to grab onto that and shift from the sugar grain chocolate funk into whole foods and feeling better.

Oh yes, and to run a few times in the next week, or that 10k eleven days from now is really going to suck.

Give yourself a bit of a break... take care of yourself... give yourself some time. It's going to be okay.

it's just a flat iron...

Why is it that when I am out and about freshly coiffed from a haircut (and consequently, as oppposed to my every-day look of slightly wavy, slightly frizzy, often ponytail-ed hair, my locks are ironed and smooth and whoosh-whoosh in the breeze), I am profoundly self-conscious as I walk about, somehow internalizing the five minutes it took a skilled set of hands to use a styling tool to iron my flipping hair and morphing it into some call to the universe, "look at me!"

So, ironically, someone just said, "your hair looks nice."

Hide! Hide!

Secret power of invisibility, maybe...

Or, deal. Think about how you would like to see a 12 year old feel about herself, and model that. Confidence, gratitude, happiness.

And whoosh whoosh hair.

if you can stand the heat

After weeks and weeks of mucking about, we have both hot water AND, as of last night, heat. When I get to the house tonight, I believe that it will be warm. Oh my.

Tomorrow is the start of solar hot water... hopefully all will go smoothly with those folks. Enough complications, already.

Time to get moved in. Make some pie. Plan a small thanksgiving meal for the duo. Get ready to relax as much as possible over the four day weekend and settle in and start really crafting "home" in all senses.

It doesn't really seem like it's happening, at long last, because it has been so very long...

and at last, around 2:30, the two glasses of white wine from the night before kick in

Oh, the afternoon headache. The lingering nudge that says, "you had white wine last night, didn't you?" The thing that makes you think, why did I have white wine last night? Or to perhaps consider if that second glass was in fact a good move.

But in the end, the fun of the evening, the laughter and conversation and overall relaxed evening with people we've danced around get-together-ness with for two years - totally worth the headache.

Maybe next time, drink red wine instead.

On entirely different fronts, in no particular order:
My in-laws are putting massive amounts (well, not really, it just seems like a lot) of ikea furniture together for us. Awesomesauce.
It is quite, quite hopeful that a simple re-wire will make the thermostats work.
When you remove tools and various other pieces of "constructionitis" debris from your living room and replace it with a couch (even if the couch doesn't have a cover in place quite yet), it makes your living room look a whole lot more like an actual living room.
I really need to go for a run. So does Fife dog.
I really need to get off sugar. And probably grain.
The glutino bread I purchased on a whim totally stinks. Universe says, cut out the grain, dude.
But on the reverse from that, the brown rice english muffins are really quite the treat.

Onward with another nearly 2 hours. Headache be darned.

and drat, I missed a day

All this morning, I was quite sure this was Tuesday. Somehow, I lost a day.

Double post, perhaps?

Well... life's too hectic for that.

The threat of snow lingers out there, but (thankfully) nothing is fluttering down.

The promise of laughter, great food, and comforting white wine awaits later, and thankfully, that is the plan for the evening with cool folks.

The new dressy slacks are, perhaps, quite cool but maybe a little intimidating.
But, they also inspired ordering a pair of jeans that are lower waisted. Self, take note: If the jeans are NOT low waisted (and therefore not flattering for the short waisted), then send.them.back, dude.

The idea of having health insurance looks more possible than imagined; this is exciting.

The radiant floor system not working when connected - distressing.

Ready for a break for the better.

apparently, they don't sell sea monkeys

How to add a dash of spice to a four hour, two vehicle trek to the mecca of flatpack furniture.... Throw a snowstorm in the high country into the mix. Be sure to use a vehicle you rarely drive, preferably one with rear wheel drive for slightly worrisome traverse over slushy snowy hills and valleys... Add plenty of rain and no cap and an ill-secured tarp and a stop along the side of I15 to rehitch said tarp...

But in the end, it was a crazy long day of drivin' with my dog... Caravaning with my guy, showing him the sights in the madness that is ikea.

How does one put a couch into a box? And then allow the general public to manipulate this box from a display warehouse onto a rolling cart? And yet, this happens like clockwork all day long. We managed it - even managed to stack huge boxes into two trucks, tarp in place, and onward home.

And now, this abstract "to do" has been mostly done. The furniture long planned for is in the garage, in its respective boxes, ready to be assembled and put into place. Exciting, a bit unreal, and yet quite exciting.

My enthusiasm may be somewhat checked when I begin to turn a 2 inch thick box of parts and pieces into a dining room table.

We skipped the meatballs.

when life throws you raindrops

So the grand plan is to take a carovan o' trucks up to the northern climes tomorrow to pick up a whole lot of furniture. Weather dot com suggests that this grand plan be revisited. Of course, Sunday looks peachy, perky, sunny, and great "long drive, cardboard boxes of softgoods" weather. Drat.

Ah, the muddle... the schedule says, get up and go on Saturday. The weather says, go on Sunday. We shall see.

Right now the sky is murky and looking like the storm is headed to our neck of the woods.

Why do things have to be complicated?

Life could be worse.

bootless of destiny

When once again you take a small leap and order some footwear that in your heart of hearts you hope will give you a new vibe, a new energy, a new edge, at last arrive - and they totally don't fit. Whump-whump. On the one hand, you can tell yourself, 'don't worry about it, just send them back, no big deal.' Yet on the other hand, you feel foolish, ungainly, dorky, loserville, and the whole gamit of self-defeating bullshit, all storming right to the forefront of your mind and emotional self, in a flash.

Why is that? Why am I so ready to pick up the gauntlet of my schoolaged self being taunted and teased, and treat myself almost as badly as those mean kids did, a century ago?

And yet, why also is it that the norm for me is to feel awkward and uncomfortable, most of the time?

So let's hope - the new pants will fit well and demonstrate that this may be a brand that cuts their bottoms in a better line for the long legs/no torso image of myself. If yes, then invest in jeans, self.

It felt really good to pin down a summer work staple - the black dress (or plum dress) with my black sandals always felt comfortable, polished, dressy but casual, and still me only different. Right now, though, those intangible feelings are nowhere to be found.

It seems trivial at times to put energy toward this... and yet, it's every day (getting dressed) so it may as well be a positive. Not there yet.

dear electrician and plumber,

Dear, dear licensed professionals - please, won't you show up at my house-to-be and do-your-thing and finish this? My gosh, I want to move into my house.

There is, I realized, no real suitable place for a full length mirror. I've lived without one for two years, but I will admit that there is some mental comfort in the ability to take a quick glance at the whole presentation before heading out into the world. But, where to fit one in, without it seeming silly? Or, does it simply become silly to worry about?

I am really hoping that the arrival of my new boots (effort #2 at kicking shoes) marks a moment of "yessss" in best Napoleon speak; that they fit well, that they give me a little mental boost, that they feel like something I could go out and get all Ramona Flowers in (ie, kick some butt).

I want to move into my house. I am so tired of limbo without end, it's exhausting and sleep depriving and overall sucky. Yes, trying to focus on the positive and excitement factor and all that, but good grief - let me move into my house already. I want to put my new boots in the new closet and start my refreshed day to day.

So, dear licensed professionals, please get a flipping move on or my new boots will be employed in some ass kicking.

Just kidding - please, just show up and finish your work. Thanks.

never underestimate how thrilling it is to see towel bars installed

Everything is (in so many ways) a microsecond, really, from being 'complete.' After so long, from standing there at the gate the first day we saw the lot, to standing there talking to my mom as I watched the earthmover begin to turn land into driveway and building pad - thinking on the day the roof trusses went in place, "we're so close!" Fool that I was.  And now, here we are - a blink away - but it is a huge, painful, slow blink that I am waiting for.... waiting for...

To be at the mercy of two professionals and about two days work - it's both exciting to be so very close, and incredibly frustrating to be so flipping close at last so won't you guys just show up and do the work already so we can move in!!!!

Grateful that towel bars and toilet paper holders are in place. A small detail but an event nonetheless. A bit more patch and paint to do, now, but that's becoming old hat now.

Couches will make it feel more real. So will setting up one of the beds.

It's amazing to be on the threshold of turning your daily life around, completely; it's exciting and terrifying and so hard to wait for.

For now, I appreciate that the toilet paper is hung in a tidy fashion. It's a start. It says, we'll soon live here. As soon as the electrician and plumber show up.

again with the iPhone but at least it's writing

Late in the evening, a long weekend past (almost, anyway) and the new work week is upon me again. Lessons of the weekend: my unhealthy love affair with potato chips probably needs to meet a sad ending; I am getting good at using filler to patch nail holes; I am bolder on a mountain bike than I imagined I would be. And, I need to watch it because I don't like that we can do in a bottle of wine in two evenings. High time to shake loose of a few habits that truly need to stay adhered to the "it's stressful building a house" phase of our lives, and not enable said habits to become fixed like evil barnacles to the undersides of our continuing lives.

creep up and leap, or at least giant step

A number of small things are percolating away in the background of life right now. Well, some are hardly small but rather quite flipping substantial life changers - and yet, they are a constant background white noise of sorts, because the every day mundane has a bit more volume and intensity about it.

Somehow, in spite of myself perhaps, one of the background simmers is this notion of taking a small bold step toward... whatever. Toward recreation and exercise and feeling free (bikes), as one example. Two bike rides down, years to go - but I will say, that on each of those two rides I have had moments of pure bliss and gratitude that we took the leap and bought the bikes and said, yes we will now start riding mountain bikes together.

Two new shirts - that fit, flatter, are cozy as hell, and that I quite like - leap away. Serious consideration to another one while there is a lovely sale in place - giant step. But good. Feeling hesitant about purchasing pants, but really, self: the two pairs of dress pants in the closet are, in fact: #1 the wrong size and thus a slightly loose and unflattering fit; #2 too high waisted and make you at least FEEL like you look weird, even if no one is particularly noticing and assessing and deciding that you look weird; #3 purchased over 2 years ago so what the heck do they owe you at this point? So, sale? Buy one get half off a second? JUMP.

Polish the darn shoes. Be an adult and embrace your life, girl. Two weeks to narrow down pictures for the haircut - so do it. Articulate the result, find the photos, jump.

Be like the game of old - giant steps - gain ground and laugh.

when it's getting dark it's not as much fun to go run after work.

Light change this time of year... it's less than fabulous. Trying to eek out a few more evenings of fast-fast-fast change of clothes and shoes upon my arrival home, so the dog and I can get in a short run before it's too flipping dark to be safe. Knowing that it will be full dark before we get to our front door makes it really hard to get out the door in the first place. But... but. I know I'll feel better and to take it further, the 10k in a few short weeks is going to feel hella better (is that the term?) if I get in some consistent runs before then.

Yet right now, I am beat tired and even the prospect of preparing dinner seems daunting.

Ugh. One way or another, out the door I'll go. Thanks, dog; you do me good.

try writing on your phone

Five days a week like sit-ups is the challenge to myself. No excuses and carry on. So what if it is late, so what if you shoveled a ton of road base and got glutened at dinner and man does this iPhone try to auto correct in annoying ways. Write, sister, because the only way you will is if you do. Leap of faith. Or you'll be forever parched.

where is a good makeover show when you need it

Self discovery, and the sheer value and thrill and ins and outs and heartbreaks and heart-awakenings of the process aside, some days I'd love to be swept up in a makeover show, or even just a professional who would step in, take my hand, and deal with it. Figure out the haircut, that looks feminine but edgy, polished but casual, professional but not run of the mill. Figure out the right wardrobe, so I could just go out and make a few calculated purchases and presto whammo have the magic wardrobe for work that feels crisp, professional, authentic, comfortable.

Are brown boots the right decision? First world problem, indeed.

But the reality is, I think that I am on track, so to speak, to steer  my ship toward dark wash boot cut jeans and a dressy blouse and a few cardis to layer over it - with a pair of polished boots or clogs, and a hairstyle that steps it the hell up from a ponytail every.single.day.

I think that when I wear a version of this in casual life, I feel self-like, self-ish, of the self. Feel like myself. Female but not girly. Mature but not middle aged. Put together but not too studied. Myself, only slightly improved in outward presentation thereof.

I like the way it feels to feel comfortable in my clothes. That is a rare, rare feeling, in spite of the fact that I wear clothes every day. Why not feel comfortable most every day? Why not?

Order the boots tomorrow. Think hard about ordering the pants, to try the brand fit and cut. Get on with it, girl.

and instead, gluten free white bread

I know I need to get back on track with cutting out the grains, the sugars, and cutting the dairy way back (and goat-ifying it). Less gut bloat, clearer skin, etc.

But when you're stressed out and overwhelmed, it's so much easier to buy a bag of chocolates to eat at work and a loaf of udi's white bread for toast in the morning.

Eggs and some form of breakfasty meats have not been appealing to me lately - however, I know from my own history that often times that which is most bad for me, physically, is exactly the food group that I crave. In other words, toast aint what my body needs, and thus it's what I am most craving, psychologically.

However, to turn the tide? Requires focus, commitment, worth of self... hmmm.

Right now, toast.

if the shoes don't fit

When it looks like a cool boot and sounds like a cool boot and awakens some interest in forming some go-to weekend ensembles crafted around some kickin' boots, ordering the boots is a cool move. Respectful of the self and positive yet thoughtful impulse.

However, if the boots end up looking flipping huge and make you feel even more aware of your large feet; if they buckle along the side like your feet are too shallow and just look funny, if the leather texture screams "don't I remind you of those keen boots you used to wear every single day of your life while you felt like crap about all facets of your life?" - well then maybe, free returns is a good feature to embrace.

If you don't love them, then they don't work, so spoke a wise friend.

I want to love them, but I don't. I need to love myself, so I need to not keep boots which are not quite right.

Because why set yourself up to further cultivate self-loathing by keeping a somewhat expensive pair of footwear which doesn't quite work right? So you can feel stupid and bad every time you wear them, or don't wear them?

Two words, self: Free Returns. Embrace it. Much more of a warm fuzzy than say, stupid self.

There are other shoes out there. You'll find them. They probably won't solve the great universal mystery of self love, but they should at least fit well.