neurotic.

How do I love the movie SIDEWAYS and actor Paul Giamatti?
Let me count the ways. (I am NOT drinkin' any fuckin' Merlot!)

I wish I could write a really sappy, happy blog post. I'm worried these blog entries are starting to turn into one-sided therapy couch sessions. Or that I look depressive and/or bipolar. Or that I am oversharing in ways that will drive away readers (if I have any). Or that I appear wishy-washy and indecisive (I actually am wishy-washy and indecisive).

Friday I took a sick day to catch up on some doctor appointments. The rest of the time I spent catching up on grading. Or I was supposed to. I had, seriously, twenty 2 foot stacks of class work and quizzes to grade. Because Life. And M's birthday and Halloween. And sometimes family comes first.

However, instead of focusing on catching up on my work, C and I went to lunch and talked about some important family and Life issues.

And so.

The rest of my day was spent weeping. (I did manage to tackle the class work...now I just need to hone in on the quizzes....and take another day to enter them all into the gradebook. Jesus Mary and Joseph, this is an exhausting, thankless job.)

I would like to detail out here why I spent the rest of Friday (and some of today) weeping. All I can say is: relationships are hard; communication isn't easy (particularly for me--isn't that strange, so very odd? I write. I communicate ideas and thoughts and feelings, all the time. You'd think I'd be the world's best communicator. And yet. This is an area of my personal life I truly, truly suck at). And I don't know if you've learned this like I have but...Love isn't always enough; sometimes love doesn't save anybody.

But! We have a beautiful little girl we love a lot, a lot, a lot. And that type of Love is very deeply fierce. And we love each other. And we are friends. C is one of my life's greatest teachers. We are being kind and careful and trying to be as gentle as we can. And there is no anger (okay, I am angry, but not at him...just in general: I am a tightly coiled ball of rage at all times, if you must know, except I don't really know at what, and this will probably be something I'll focus on when I can find time to focus on it). And so we'll work through it maturely and kindly and in the best interests of one little reluctant mermaid who has some very dramatic tendencies.

That's it for this blog post. I'm going to finish a bottle of Pinot Noir now and maybe attack my flailing pirate novel for a bit tonight. (I do know drinking doesn't help or fix anything; but it blurs the edges...until the morning when I worry I'm becoming a whino and one step away from panhandling in front a liquor store.)