for the record

Despite the current page of my blog (geez I've been depressing lately), things are good. I am happy. Positivity is slowly finding it's way back into the Dawson home. I've smudged, lit candles and spread more salt than one can imagine. The bubble is getting stronger.

We're taking Izzy to Grandma's for a week. Heading out for a relaxing camping trip and then coming home to an empty and clean house. I'm a superstitious girl (so I hope I'm not jinxing things here), but I hope to end this year on a positive note in order to bring in a positive new year. We're

Dear Ovaries, why do you do this to me?

I once worked with a girl who claimed PMS was "an excuse" created by women to excuse their bitchiness. I should have said it then, but instead I'm going to say it now: "Screw you Erin." I'm not a gynecologist, but I'm telling you, there is something to this PMS.

I consider myself a fairly self-aware 30-something and I'm positive that I did not just use the "PMS excuse" to spend $130 on groceries consisting of 2 pints of ice cream, a Betty Crocker "Decadent Carrot Cake", hair color and Half & Half. I NEVER buy any of those things. In fact, now that I think about it, I only buy hair color when I'm on my period. I'm going to say it has something to do with my self-loathing during that time. But I swear at the time I was absolutely convinced that ALL of those things were essential to my happiness. It wasn't until I got home and unloaded groceries that I thought "WTF?"

The only reason I went to the store in the first place was because I was tired of yelling at my husband. Something else I NEVER do unless I'm on my period. No excuses there, just cold hard facts. And it should be noted that he is better at predicting my cycle than I am at this point. Because I buy dumbass shit from the grocery store and yell a lot. So once again, screw you Erin. I hope you are enjoying your well-balanced personality, free of the PMS rollercoaster.

2010 To-Do List (ongoing)

I've decided to start a list of all the things I'd like to do/change next year. As most who have been following along knows, this has been my year of self-sacrifice, and honestly, this year has pretty much sucked as a whole. But to look at things optimistically and on a positive note (because Jessica insists I must do this) - this year has enabled me to really call next year as mine. Guilt free. And I'm really starting to look forward to the possibilities. So here is my 2010 list:

* Travel!! - I have trips planned to California, Portland and possibly Sedona. And if we manage to make it through the summer without completely breaking the bank (unheard of before now) - I totally plan on rewarding us with a trip to Scotland.

* "Me" time - I'm looking forward to finding some things next year for just me (as opposed to family). I'm considering a quilting class (Erin's t-shirt quilt has inspired me!), a fitness class of some kind (yoga, pilates or kickboxing), and learning to sew/knit.

* Get Crafty - In relation to the above post, I'd like to reverse my input/output next year. This year I have taken a lot in and most of what I have put out was to benefit others. In 2010, I'd like to create more. In a perfect world I'd always be working on a project. Knitting, sewing and jewelry making are on the tops of that list. I'd also like to make a stained glass mirror, some yard art and create more stuff to hang on the walls. Big goals, but it can be done if I'd just close this damned laptop.

* Get off the phone - I'm on the phone 90% more than I'd like to be. Next year I'm moving towards texts and emails as Emily assures me it should only take a year to "reset" the phone call abusers. This provides many benefits. A.) I'll be able to think before I speak; B.) My energy won't be sapped by people who like to call and say nothing; and C.) I'll have more time to work on my many projects.

* Change up social dynamics - Some of my friendships have been really "trying" this year. After several discussions and psycho-analytical sessions with my husband, I realized I've been putting wayyyy too much energy into our friendships and social circle. I'd like to bring the focus back to our family and put less energy into my friendships. The ones who love me will respect it, the ones that don't will move on. And finally, I'm okay with that.

* Get in shape - This is a repeat of above, but it needs to be mentioned again. I've been talking about it for 3 years, but I need to make it a top priority. I've been feeling tired, lazy and embarrassed by how out of shape I am. I really miss the days when I felt good about myself. It's time to finally do something about it.

* Make changes for Izzy - Bless her heart, she has no friends. I need to put her in some kind of pre-school and start her in some classes of her own. This will do a lot for her and ease some of the Mama guilt I've got going on.

Screw you 2009, Screw you.

Serenity NOW!

p.s. - Screw you again 2009.

I think I AM doing my job, sir.

Today on the way home from Izzfest grocery shopping I was stopped at a red light. I had my windows rolled down, enjoying the beautiful day, when the corner “Homeless Vet” started walking towards me. I didn’t want to be the jackass rolling up her window, so I just tolerated the rising anxiety.

“Hello there ma’am, how’s your day going?” he asked. “Good, thanks,” I replied. “Do you happen to have a dollar or two,” he asked. My anxiety rising, I said, “I’m sorry, I don’t have any cash.” Shaking his head, he said, “It’s okay. I’ve done my job, now you are doing yours.” Nervous and guilty, I started fiddling with the radio. He lingered at my window until the light finally turned green and I drove off.

It wasn’t until I turned left that I started to get pissed and have my George Costanza moment, thinking of all the things I wish I would have said. Had I had it to do all over again (with bigger balls, of course) I would have said “You’re right. I AM doing my job. I’ve just spent a shot-ton of money for my daughter’s 3^rd birthday. I don’t have any money to give you because I’ve spent my last dime on birthday presents, brisket, eggs and fucking expensive-ass jelly beans that match the color of the Seuss theme. And don’t look at me that way. I’m responsible for feeding 30+ people on Saturday. People that have taken time out of their busy schedules to come celebrate with us. People that have fed us, people that have listened to our woes over the last 5+ years and people that are working just as hard as I am to get by.” I would have continued saying, “I appreciate your service to our country, but believe it or not, due to that service you should have a lot more benefits than I do at this very moment and I really wish you’d take the opportunity to explore those benefits as opposed to making me feel so damn guilty for not having a dollar bill on me. Thank you and have a nice day.” Next time I think I’ll just be that asshat that rolls up their window…

Bad boys bad boys, whatcha gonna do? Come to Austin!

So there we were, Chris and I coming home from an impromptu night out of Pictionary and Sweet Tea Vodka’s with friends. We drove on to 35 South from St. John’s, a drive we’ve driven a hundred times by now. We were absorbed in a rather serious examination of our relationship when a Chevy Tahoe almost sideswiped us. “Son-of-a-bitch,” Chris cussed, before slowing down to let the Tahoe get ahead of us. It was then that we noticed he was drunk. Really, really, really drunk.

It was just a couple of weeks ago that this same scene played out before us. Again, coming home from the same friend’s house at the same time of night (1:45am). And just like last time, we dialed 911. It didn’t take long to realize that this guy was far drunker than the last. As I talked to a 911 operator, the guy swerved across all three lanes of traffic, barely missing several cars. “I’m not kidding,” I told the operator, “this guy is going to kill someone if you don’t get an officer here soon.” We made this call at the intersection of 35 South and 8^th. The operator assured us she’d inform the police and dispatch someone immediately.

Meanwhile, drunk-driver is swerving across lanes, slowing down to 20 m.p.h. and then speeding up again. Chris and I both agreed that we would follow him until the police came because we were worried that he would hit someone and help would be needed. So away we go down 35, waiting for the police. And waiting. And waiting. And waiting. At several points along the way it appeared he was going to exit, only to veer back onto the highway. And there we were, veering with him (albeit far more cautiously). By this time, 8 (or so) minutes had gone by and I called 911 again. I gave all the information again (only this time reading his license plate the “police way” – saying 125-Victor Charlie 9), and again expressing how crazy this guy was driving. “We are going to follow him, because this is not going to end well,” I tell the operator. “That would not be advisable,” she says, “you will become a liability.” Exasperated I say, “then you need to get someone out here quickly before he kills someone.”

Finally drunk-driver made a hasty exit onto William Cannon (about 10 miles down the road for those non-Austinites). We follow and suddenly see 2 police cars speeding down the exit ramp behind us. “Finally,” we both yell. Chris turns on his hazards, pulls over and rolls down the window to motion to the Tahoe. And just as quickly, both cop cars speed right by us as drunk-driver takes off through the light. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Chris yells. And off we go to follow. We drove down the feeder to Slaughter (where we witness him driving off the road, completely onto the grass, then back on to the road), then follow him into the SouthPark Meadows shopping center and right into a Jack In The Box drive-through where he abruptly stops. I call 911 again, informing them of his location (along with repeating everything for a 3^rd time). Again, they say they’ll send an officer out. And again, we wait.

4 minutes into waiting (because now I’m timing this shit), we see a security guard driving around the Walmart parking lot. We flag him down and inform him of the situation. At the same time we notice that cars are not able to access the drive-through because drunk-driver has apparently passed out in his car. We wait another 5 minutes (with another cop car driving right past us), before someone manages to flag down an officer who happened to be at the Whataburger next door. Turns out, she had received no calls. As we were giving our statement, she asked why we didn’t call 911. “We did – 3 times!” we said emphatically. She then said they would attempt to “find our calls” and attach them to the report, “should this guy be arrested and taken to jail.” My jaw dropped a little and I said, “Oh no, you can’t let this guy get back in the car. Seriously. He will kill someone.” And she assured me it would be “taken care of.” We drove off, without seeing the outcome of the situation.

Seriously, is Austin having some kind of police officer shortage? This wasn’t some slightly drunken individual who swerved across a lane or two. This guy was all over the place. He passed out in a drive-through for fucks sake. It was 25 minutes from the time we made the first phone call to the time the officers finally showed up. 25 damn minutes! I dated a cop for a (very!) brief time when I was still living in Baytown, and their response time was supposed to be 4 minutes or less. Most cops could make it completely across town in 2 ½ minutes (I had the pleasure of witnessing this on one occasion), and per Wikipedia, Austin is only 7 times larger than Baytown. I mean, come on already.

Either way, Chris and I did our good deed for the evening. Thank goodness he didn’t run over anyone along the way. Though, had he, I would have been prepared with my fancy Emergency Roadside Kit complete with bright orange triangles. ‘Cause lord knows, the Austin cops would have needed them to find us…

ode to friendship

At a time when I’m questioning a small number of friendships, I’m also experiencing a deep and huge appreciation for my true friends. The last couple of months have been trying for me. Old friendships are going sour. New friendships are being put to the ultimate test. And I find my compass spinning wildly.

But the love I have for my solid friends has grown exponentially. They have advised me well. They have loved me through it. They have fed me literally, mentally and emotionally. New friendships have grown deeper. Distant friendships have come through in a crunch. It upholds my idea of friendship at a time when I could be questioning the whole thing.

This isn’t Baytown. We aren’t stuck together based on environment and circumstance. We have chosen one another. Based on similar philosophies, lifestyles and goals. We have thrown down and mended. We have walked away and come back. We have torn down and built back up.

Being a friend is tough for me. I’ve admitted as much since coming to Austin. I’m flaky, I’m opinionated and I’m outspoken. I’m sometimes a hermit and goodness knows I struggle with the concept of being quietly supportive. But once I consider you a friend, I will be there for you on a deeper level. I may flake out on shopping, but I will stay up into the wee hours of the night helping you work out daddy or relationship issues. I will feed you, I’ll let you borrow my car and put a clean blanket and fluffy pillow on the couch for you. I will hold your hand when you need a hand to hold. I ask for nothing in return except for you to hold my hand when I am in need.

And my friends have been holding my hand a lot recently. It’s not lost at all on me. In fact, I am drawing strength from each and every one of them in different ways. Their calm, their wisdom, their wit, their grace and their fight. I am humbled by these friendships – something I’ve never experienced before. And it’s worth all the nuttiness to experience something so worthy. Thank you to the 100^th power.