The color of my bedroom. Two thirds of it, anyway. I need to move the wardrobe to do the last corner. Deep, blood-orange orange. In semi-gloss so it really pops. I adore it. Warm and vibrant and bold. mmmmm.

My dad was a house painter, see. And yet, or perhaps so, I grew up with all white walls. He talked about painting my room a subtle "Barely Grey" color once, but it never happened. We two did do a litle painting together once. Somehow there was a weekend day that Dad and I were on our own, and we decided to paint the kitchen bar stools and a small stool I used in my room. The color we brought home was a bright cheery blue. By the time Mom and my siblings got home, all three items were a sparkly new shade. She was a little stunned, but he and I were pleased with ourselves. Th ekitchen stools are long gone, but I still have the little one. The paint has chipped tragically, and I almost out it out with the trash while moving out of my old house, but after a few minutes I snagged it form the front yard and put it on the truck. It's perfectly functional, and even the shredded bits of paint that remain are somehow important to me.

Sappy at this hour...time for sleep.

Today is my son's second birthday. We celebrated it the way you can these small numbers - with grandparents. When will it happen, that they will eschew their Nina and Papa, Grandma and Pappy (known to Nat as "Happy right now) and insist on having cool people there? Not for a few years, I hope.

Papa brought a homemade train cake, complete with a Thomas face and small, neatly written Happy Birthday Nathaniel. Very impressive. Me and my parents and out-laws, and two very excited children. It was a fun evening, good, relaxed conversation, easy food and clean up (we ordered subs, I used paper plates). I felt comfortable, like The Mama in charge of her brood, managing the hostessing, too. I showed off the painted rooms, got looks of near alarm from all the parents over my room, on its way to being a deep, vivid red-orange.

The only bummer of the night was that once again, my mom's modest, thoughtful gifts were outshone by a train track set and a big ride-on car. She bought him puzzles and a coloring book, which will definitely be enjoyed, but in the height of his toddler excitement, didn't register at all. She stifled her hurt, but I knew it was there. Fortunately, Maura unknowingly soothed her by insisting on coloring in the new book, and proudly displaying her artwork. The little book of prayers Mom bought for her, well, that might not get so much mileage, but there's no need for her to know that right now.

Great plans on deck for next weekend, which totally make up for this lost Sunday. I took Monday off next week, so we'll have most of Saturday, all of Sunday, and a lot of Monday, too. The bonus about Monday is (and this was the suggestion of a friend, I hadn't even thought of it), I can pick up the kids early from school so we can get in the visit without an overnight with Joe (I think that's the alias I chose for him), which he feels strongly about doing. So! A long weekend with my man, extra time with my kids AND he gets to meet them.

Plus when i mentioned coming down to Balti again in a few weeks for a Kitchen Party, he asked if I wanted him to come along. I didn't even have to ask! He maintains his refusal to let me see the house yet, describing again how much of a disaster it is, how he doesn't even like being in it...I'm still letting it go. For now. Until I really start to feel like it's an excuse. (Self-limiting behavior and all that, right, Red?)

Anyway. Bed soon. After I fold some laundry. The plan for tomorrow is to move my bed, paint the wall behind it, and build the bed frame. We'll see if I can accomplish all of that alone. Oh, and I dropped a few hundred bux on a new TV. Flat screen, to hang on the wall above the fireplace. Now I just have to unload the dinosaur of a TV I have, and sell the cabinet it's in.

Better: heard from my not yet ex today, if only via email. Offered some information. I thanked him for it, reiterated that I wanted to discuss finances. Baby steps. Also, I resisted the temptation to make first contact. Very difficult, but I did it!

Worse: my oor Irishman is feeling very frustrated about his life situation right now. Long term unemployment takes a toll, and when combined with an illness that hasn't yet released its grip entirely after two full weeks, he's a bit pissed at the universe. Understandably.

But in four days we'll be together in a motel room. Uh HUH. I can't wait.

So. Today I worked really hard all day, trying to catch up on so much backlog, discovering more and more bills that are getting paid in a penalty phase and costing the bank money. I alternately feel entirely responsible, and thoroughly apathetic because I made plenty of noise about being understaffed.

Then near the end of the day I sent my not yet ex-husband an email about a credit card bill he agreed to pay part of and hasn't yet, and the car that we're both still on the title and loan for even though he is the one who has it. I asked him when he'd be ither paying his part of the credit card or giving me money for it, and if he'd looked into refinancing the car. I also mentioned having spoken to a lawyer after I got the divorce complaint from him and stated that since we couldn't do anything during the 90 day waiting period, we could discuss future finances as they pertain to the kids.

Hooooo boy. Cue the old story entitled, Mavis Does Everything Wrong, also published under She's the Bad Guy Here. I'm dragging my feet, he paid for this thing and thought we'd just sign and move on, why do I always change my mind, now it's getting drawn out unnecessarily.

But all of this happens via email and text because he refuses to talk to me on the phone. He will not answer when I call. It's maddening and stressful, and I was in a tearful rage on my way to get the kids. AWESOME.

This process sucks. And we were pretty amicable at the start. I fear that is breaking down and fast right now, because he is under the impression I am sabotaging what might otherwise be smooth proceedings. Nothing could be further from the truth. I want this to go fast and well, but I also want to cover my ass. As I told him before, no one else is looking out for me, so *I* have to do it. I don't suspect any malice on his part, but I figure getting some hard facts from a professional couldn't hurt.

We had discussed a DIY divorce. But with kids, and the imbalance of finances between us (mainly b/c of his parents' wealth, not his or mine), and the task of selling the house, I asked him to deal with the divorce paperwork. It was more than I could handle. Once he did, I wanted to un it by a lawyer to make sure we weren't missing anything. And I got the impression that we were. That we were being a bit naive about how easy it could be. That we could easily miss something (like, oh, COLLEGE EXPENSES) and have that become a major problem between us down the road.

I don't want to think of him as a jerk. He's the father of my children, and they adore him, rightly so. But damn, being ignored sucks ass, and having him assume the worst of me, all over again, is exhausting and upsetting and pisses me off. I am sure if you were to ask him, he'd have a vastly different version of events, involving me as a waffler, and selfish ad thoughtless. Bu until he talks to me about it, how will he fucking KNOW?

I'm pissed. And scared that this is going to happen, off and on, for the rest of my life. As I was leaving work, crying and cursing, I wanted so badly to talk to my Irishman, but it didn't seem right, to call my new-ish boyfriend in tears over a divorce related issue with my husband. So I tried a couple other friends. Was able to text with Anlon, which was some relief, but man I needed a girlfriend to vent to.

The kids made it better, to some degree, though they were both a bit whiny while I was trying to make dinner, and I didn't have the reserves to handle that graciously. Not proud of my mothering skills tonight, particularly. Can't wait to put this day behind me. Want to do it with alcohol, but am trying to resist.

Thanks for listening.

I'm also irritated that this event has somewhat overshadowed the wonderful day I had at MDRF yesterday with my kids, my wingman Alanna, and all our friends that we saw there. Darcy's little peanut, whom my kids couldn't get enough of, Damon's REALLY little peanut who looks very adult for a 2 month old infant, all the lovely pyrates, and everyone else who greeted us with big smiles. Thank you, to all of you, for being so kind and wonderful. I love you all!

Fabulous weekend at the Faire, my lack-of-Irishman notwithstanding. The festival community welcomed the band back with open arms, cast and patrons and independent performers alike. Sunday night we played Pub Sing, and got such a warm introduction from the emcee, I thought my heart would burst. Then the crowd roared their appreciation, and whooped and hollered when finished our song...in that moment I felt like I could fly. Incredible feeling.


You know what ELSE is incredible? Sharing the experience on the phone w/my Irishman, and knowing that he totally gets it, and loved it for me, and wasn't jealous of it. Ahhhhh.

My kids. Adorableness that regularly rocks my world. Little Man is at the stage where he loves to point to and identify things. In his oddly low little boy voice, this is always funny. Especially because if he doesn't know what color something is, he defaults to pink. He'll randomly point to objets and exclaim "Pink!" There's also "CIRCUS!" when we put on the Cirque du Soleil DVD they both love.

Maura is dying to help me paint her room. I thought she'd be excited to see that I finished the walls since she was last here, but instead she was upset because she wanted to help. So I promised her that on Wednesday she can help me do the polka dots. Giant purple polka dots. I am sore afraid, but hey, it'll be fun. Right?

My schedule is hectic, my department at work is still understaffed, I can't wait for my new split box spring to be delivered because my body is is a mass of aches, and I haven't seen my boyfriend in weeks. But I get to talk to him nearly every night, and it's always, as he says, good phone. And my kids shower me with hugs and laughter and sweetness.

Life is pretty good.

I'm listening to some young men practice their drum rhythms by speaking them, across the street in the park. Delightful. I believe they are doing this on their own time, without an instructor.

>>doom, k'tek, doom, k'tek, deh deh deh DOOM!<<

In other news, I am sad and a mite worried. My Irishman has managed to catch H1N1 - you know, swine flu. He's been battling it since last weekend, and yesterday it became obvious that he will not be well enough by this weekend to visit with me at the Faire, as was our plan. We had a motel room booked for Saturday night festivities, and he was planning to attend Sunday, and be trotted about. Alas. I am now sharing my motel room with a drummer, and he is bundled up in blankets in his house, quarantining himself from the world because while this flu won't kill you if you're a generally healthy person, it sucks some large suck and is very contagious.

So, we go another indeterminate amount of time without seeing each other. Or doing anything else to each other. Argh. The worry comes fmor the fact that I talked to him this afternoon while he was suffering a violent shaking attack because of being so chilled. I told him I would check in this evening, and have now called twice in the past hour to no answer. I hope he's swaddled in bed and asleep, but I worry he's worse off than that. If he doesn't respond by 9, I am going to Facebook message a mutual friend and ask that he check in on him. Joe (I'm calling him Joe) might not like that I do that, but he IS seriously ill.

So, tomorrow night I will either go to my high school's first home football game, or head to Harrisburg to attend a Funky Friday dance party the aforementioned drummer is performing for. I went fishing for a date for either event on Facebook - so far no takers. Bummer. If I end up solo, I will probably go to the game - more chance of meeting up with someone I know there. I don't know if I can go solo to a dance party. I'm not quite that brave. Still, an interesting choice of social events lies before me.

In other-other news, my kids are in daycare and love it. Maura babbles incessantly every evening I pick her up, all excited about the teachers and activities and other kids,even though she can't remember their names, except Gabriel, because it's just like her dog. Little Man is still having a tough time with drop-off, and I notice more clinginess in the evenings, but while he's there he enjoys himself, we're told. And his vocabulary and sentence building are already expanding. God, it's so exciting to watch them thrive!

OK, their room is partially painted and there's more to do. See you all on the other side of the weekend!

(EDIT - talked with the Irishman, he's alive and cautiously optimistic that he's on the other side of this flu. Much relief. And sweetness.)

On Facebook, a friend posted this suggestion: think about and list a few things you have to grateful for from the last month. My list came to me quickly, and was extensive. Wanna see?

A visit with my sister and her wife

My mother's bravery and love during that visit

Several occasions of hosting wonderful houseguests

My children growing and learning and becoming exquisitely beautiful people right before my eyes

A cordial, heading back toward friendly relationship with my future ex-husband

My Irishman, of course, and all the wonderfulness he embodies

Buying a house, and moving into it with few headaches

Having the opportunity every day to show myself my own strength

Daily demonstrations of how fantastic my friends are

August has been generous with me.



Today I took the kids to their dad's at 9 AM, and set about working on the house. I will take a cue from my sister and make a list of what I accomplished today:

Finished three loads of laundry - including hanging some on the line to dry! >swoon<

Jerry-rigged a better way to keep the washing machine drain hose in the utility sink

Trimmed back a couple of trees so there's more yard in my yard now

Pulled the indoor/outdoor grass carpet off the back porch, swept and rearranged what was out there

Swept and rearranged the basement, moved a lot of stuff off the front porch into better homes in said basement

Did dishes

Made lunch

Made dinner

Made plans to visit my mom with the kids tomorrow - made her day I think

Moved things from my room to better homes in the basement

Cleaned tub, toilet and bathroom sink

The fact that today was picture perfect, with puffy clouds in blue skies, a fresh breeze and temps in the upper seventies just iced the cake. Now I am looking forward to hanging with the Dean and Brian, the guys I went on vacation with, and Dean's awesome girlfriend, later this evening.

Life is pretty damn sweet right now.

I was driving my kids to the babysitter's (a thing of the past, now that we've embarked on DayCare - aka school) a few weeks ago, when August's heat was crushing and unrelenting, starting before 8 AM. Poor Maura commented guilelessly from the backseat "Mommy, my back is getting hot." I agreed that it was hot, adding that it was "nasty hot." This made her chuckle, so I ran with it. "It's yucky hot, it's gross hot, then that devolved to it's hot a few times. Finally Maura had had enough of my creativity, and said, in a tone you might use to placate a child just beginning to get too wound up, "Mommy, let's just let it be nasty hot for a little while."

The kids have discovered the nerve-wracking joy of furniture gymnastics. They both love climbing onto the armrest of the couch and leaping/falling/tumbling forward onto the seat. They take turns pretty well, and the boy will even compliment his sister. "Nice one, Mauwa!" He also, I swear to god, said "I need assistance" the other night. No lie.

My kids may just rule the world one day.

Ah, how I love this radio program. This music just lifts the spirit.

I spent most of the day packing and moving boxes around in my house. Borrowed a friend's truck so I could take a few things to my storage unit, just to have them out from underfoot. I feel like I got a lot boxed up, but it concerns me how much still ISN'T boxed up.

And really, I'm just itchy to get to Baltimore again! Tomorrow afternoon I'm going to see my Irishman perform in Hamlet, and then we're going somewhere for dinner. On the phone last night he was half-apologetic that it would probably be something casual and low-key versus fancy. I assured him I just want to spend time with him that I'd be happy eating fast food on the sidewalk if I as doing it in his company. Yeah, it's like that.

And as a bonus, I'll be swinging into town early to meet up with another Balti-dwelling friend, Wendell, for lunch! I think I got enough done today to earn this free day...I may even get up early and go into work for a bit first. (Grr, work. The week ended with a bump, a rough conversation with my boss that left me scratching my head, but I think I am okay with it now.)

Now, though, I need a shower (went for a run, almost three miles), then to return my friend's truck, grab some beer to take to Wendell's tomorrow, then maybe a bit more packing. Then I want to read for a bit before bed. If tonight is like last night, my Irishman will wake me up sometime after midnight with a phone call. And this is me, SO not complaining.

All right, time to get my sweaty self clean!

Details were requested...I don't know. I don't want to jinx this...this...whatever it is. But okay, fine.

BAck in May I started noodling around on plentyoffish.com, to see what there was to see. Met a nice guy, that turned into very real and sincere friendship. He's the one I went on vacation with, in fact. After that, I went on a few more dates - one came to naught, one, some of you may recall, I had high hopes for but they were dashed like a cheap clay pot on concrete. One more date, that simply led to hedonism for a week or so, and then...the Irishman.

On plentyoffish, you can see the name and profile pic of people who have viewed your profile, even if they do not contact you. Well, in the midst of a long spell of being viewed and contacted by people I was really not interested in, here is this B&W photo, a professional headshot, of a striking fellow with an impish grin and sparkling eyes. Oh, my. I had to investigate. His profile was a book! He's a decade my senior, which was actually a draw for me. There were several long paragraphs, a warning about his being a handful, don't bother if you're plain vanilla, here's the way I see the world, I'm an actor, on and on, each sentence drawing me in more than the last.

So I said hello. A brief reply of intrigue. I get a response - tell me more, he says. Back and forth a few times, til I brazenly suggest meeting. He agrees...serendipity comes into play and we manage to meet up, with no cell phone contact to solidify it, at a bar in Baltimore after his rehearsal and and the show I went to see both ended. Hours later I drove home on Cloud 9, and have been there ever since.

Another Balti visit, again combining my own plans with post-show meeting. Again, home in the wee hours - it was properly morning, in fact, by the time I left that time. Then his visit up here which was divine, even though it involved back-breaking labor. We laugh, we crack each other up, we talk about family and feelings and spiritual matters and music and pie...I actually baked an apple pie for him. And he loved it. I was more critical of it, of course, but he said "This pic fucking rocks!"

Plans to see him - and the play he is in - this Sunday. After that, not sure, since I am moving next week (ack!). But we have agreed that this is exclusive, but ot entirely serious. We're enjoying each other tremendously, and not worrying too much about the future. Or the logistics of living 75 minutes away from each other.

It just. feels. good.