i just experienced

a full meltdown in my house. Ethan screaming. Emmett crying. His friend that was going to sleep over wanting to go home and staring out the window saying "I want my mommy". It was a full explosion all at once and it all happened within 3 minutes of Mike leaving for the store.

I am just totally exhausted.

a minute is all my life will ever allow...

(some of you will know that reference).

I am amazed that people in South Philly actually exist. YOu see these charactures of that type on shows like Saturday Night Live, and today, when I was walking to school I heard three women talking and it sounded like an over the top spoof. But it was real.

I'm introspective and tired today. I want so much to get things done. My mind goes faster than I can act. My mind goes faster than I can talk even. Sometimes I'll ask someone a question and leave the room feeling that, in the time it takes them to digest the question and answer, I'll be back.

Emmett's friend Nicco is over right now. Here's our week:

Monday: Nicco hangs out and sleeps over. 8:00, Elis meets friend. Elis makes snack for school tomorrow.
Tuesday: Nicco goes home, my parents come over. Elis goes to class at 7. Mike goes to class at 7.
Wednesday: Emmett's friend Phineas comes over at 9. We go to Emmett's Easter show. Phineas sleeps over.
Thursday: Phineas goes home. Emmett's friend Zach comes over (tenatively, have to check)
Friday: Hang out with Emmett's friend Max and/or Alex
Saturday: Emmetts cousins come over. Go to Emmett's other cousin Isaac's birthday. Sleep over at Mike's mom's.
Sunday: Easter at Mike's mom's.

i am exhausted and its barely started.

yesterday i received a gift

for my birthday.

Wrapped beautifully, with a silky brown bow.

From my husband.

And it's a gift that will keep giving, year after year, as I tell the story of my 35th birthday gift, from my adoring husband. The man that knows me best of all who, unknowingly, has given me a fabulous story.

And here it is:

Yesterday at Ikea

I walked the whole store, starting at the As-Is and going the "wrong" way. I was going the opposite of all those little arrows they have on the floor. They want you to end at As IS -- but that's where I like to start.

As I was fighting my way through, section after section, I was really thinking about how hard it is to go against the grain. Literally, with every step I took, there was some kind of stammer from the person doing the "right" thing. But the weird thing was, people were getting out of my way for the most part. People were letting me go through. They were just shocked to see me there.

At one point near the end, I was thinking, is it even worth all this? I am fighting the flow like some kind of fish. I can't see as many of the things I want to see and everyone is watching me because I'm the only one walking toward them. It seemed like every single person looked in my cart (and I'm not exaggerating).

It was in the lighting section, while I was looking at the pathetic selection of table lamps that it all made sense. This is how I feel sometimes. And there I was, spending way too long in the lamps because I didn't feel like going back out there. Because I didn't feel like walking against those arrows anymore. Because I was tired of everyone wondering why my cart was filled with piles of fabric. And that's how I feel sometimes in my life. It's not that I'm radical. That would be easy, because when you're radical, your entire group is going against the grain -- and that's your identity. People expect it. When you look like everyone else, and you're doing these little things that aren't normal, people don't get it. You wish you could just start where the arrows start.

I got all my stuff to the register and one of the sales people spotted me immediately. She walked up to me and said "Is all this stuff AS IS"? "Everything except for this jar", I said. And she waited with me in the self checkout line until it was my turn. Then, she rung me up, giving me even better deals than my items were marked, discounting "just because". And I realized that she saw me from a mile away and she "got it". That there ARE other people that shop the store backwards, and she knew it. And it was like she rewarded me for it.

And all night I kept thinking, I have to remember to blog about this. All the times I've written about forgetting my thoughts -- this is an example of one I forced myself to remember.

So like an avalanche, this thought lead to so many other thoughts and a pride in doing it my way. My bill was $41.80. The real price would have been around $150. And the song below (my 'theme' at 27) that's really a spoken word poem, kept going in my head. (Note: Please read it. I tried very hard to find a link to it and have delayed posting this because of it. This poem made up the attitude of my late 20's.)


My IQ

when I was four years old
they tried to test my I.Q.
they showed me a picture
of 3 oranges and a pear
they said,
which one is different?
it does not belong
they taught me different is wrong

but when I was 13 years old
I woke up one morning
thighs covered in blood
like a war
like a warning
that I live in a breakable takeable body
an ever-increasingly valuable body
that a woman had come in the night to replace me
deface me

see,
my body is borrowed
I got it on loan
for the time in between my mom and some maggots
I don't need anyone to hold me
I can hold my own
I got highways for stretchmarks
see where I've grown

I sing sometimes
like my life is at stake
'cause you're only as loud
as the noises you make

I'm learning to laugh as hard
as I can listen
'cause silence
is violence
in women and poor people
if more people were screaming then I could relax
but a good brain ain't diddley
if you don't have the facts

we live in a breakable takeable world
an ever available possible world
and we can make music
like we can make do
genius is in a back beat
backseat to nothing if you're dancing
especially something stupid
like I.Q.

for every lie I unlearn
I learn something new

I sing sometimes for the war that I fight
'cause every tool is a weapon -
if you hold it right.

The dead computer reference

is because my computer is dead. When I can steal it away, I'm checking email on Mike's. This really, really stinks.

A dead computer. A dead idea.

It's this weird thing with Mike that we just came to realize. There are somethings that I say to him that he simply doesn't respond to. And I don't even realize he hasn't responded until hours or days later. An example:

Elis: "Mike -- your dad's birthday is next Monday. We need to get him a present."

(silence -- too long for me)

Elis: "Oh, and I want to get portraits taken of Emmett and Ethan, and whatever happened with..."

Then, Sunday, I'll realize that we don't have a present for Mike's dad's birthday and we never actually discussed it. So, I'm thinking, what is happening? I can't get this thing going. And in talking to Mike, the reason is because he's not there. He doesn't have ideas. He doesn't care as much as me. So the idea goes into an abyss. Unless I deal with it now, it won't be dealt with.

So, what is it? It's my effort to get something off my plate in the easiest way possible -- throwing it over to Mike. And based on this acidic conversation I had with my friend, I'm starting to think that, based on my perscribed gender roles, I have no right to get mad about something like this. I'm the one that defined it. I'm the one that has to buy presents. Even for hard people like Mike's dad.

There was a time when I did everything for myself. I was not in any way connected with gender roles and usually took on a masculine position in my female households. (I hooked up the phone wires. I hauled the heavy stuff. I was the one that figured out bills). It was the moving of heavy things that started all this off. That and driving.
I HATE moving heavy things. I was the "helper" with my dad's crazy finds my whole life. I was always helping him lug things up from the car or into the attic. I have permanent muscles from this (seriously) but I hated every minute of it. And driving. I am not into driving. I greatly prefer to look out the window and get into loud music. So, when Mike and I got married, these were my only requests. I don't want to move heavy things. I don't want to drive.

And then, as I got older, an avalanche occurred. I wanted to take more time getting fixed up. I didn't want to go out unless I felt I looked good. I didn't want to do anything that required learning. I didn't feel like learning how to use the VCR. (yes. I'm not kidding. I don't know how to work our stupid VCR). And here I am. The epitome of the primadonna I was feministly against for most of my adult life.

So how can I change it, I keep thinking. I am so in this pattern. Anything uncomfortable to me, Mike will do. I think it starts with painting pictures. The very act of making time, lugging out my supplies, making the painting, washing brushes and putting it all away is a huge pain. And it starts with sorting the basement. He can do it and I'm waiting for him to do it, but why am I not doing it.

I hated much of the feminist I was in college and after -- please don't get me wrong. And I like being into makeup for the first time in my life. BUT, I am an artist, a creator and very capable of things that a man can do (minus lifting heavy things. I am not doing that). So, I have to get back into being a partner and not a wife.

It was after a call

to my friend that's brutally critical of me that I realized that I've adapted the mentality of a Queen in my marriage. I get so frustrated with Mike for not being a leader...for doing things slowly... And my friend said to me "You're all caught up with these gender roles. If you don't like how Mike does things, do it yourself. You act like this Queen like Mike has to do it, and by no means am I saying he's perfect, but there are a lot of things he can do better than you".

I got off the phone and tried to sort through this pile of stuff we got from my mom's house -- all our stuff in storage from before we moved to LA. And I found my paintings.
And unbeknown to you, I used to paint -- specifically huge paintings. One of them, a lady offered to buy one time. I told her it was $7,000 and she offered 2,500 and I said no -- a huge mistake. I pulled them out and looked at them and realized I still like them, but I wonder how much of that is connected with the woman that wanted to buy it. So I tried to see if they would fit upstairs. They are way too big.

And I found a painting I did that I hated, and I still hate it. I started chopping up the one I hate, cutting out little pieces of it that I liked to see if there was anything salavagable. But I'm so tired, now there's all these remnants of my paintings all over the place. I'm just so so tired.

From watching Misery until 2 in the morning while Mike was out with his friends. From waking up at 5am yesterday because the baby wanted to nurse. From thinking....I get tired from all this thinking. I think far too much about everything and I can't shut it off. I need TV. It's the only thing that works.

My dad's side of the family is extremely energetic. My mom's side is sensitive and thoughtful. I am a mixture. I have a passionate desire to produce, but I have this extreme side of me that thinks about everything non-stop. It's like a goldfish that with every turn, sees something new.

Here are things that I thought or am thinking:
1. I'm a terrible mother
2. I believe in Quantum Physics
3. I get very cold because I'm Greek and belong in a hot climate
4. I'm moved in my career to the point that I won't do certain work
5. Mike and I are both into dealhunting and it's something we didn't realize the whole time we were dating -- even though that's what we were doing half the time.
6. Ethan is not as emotional as Emmett. I think I can tell this already.
7. I love feeling exhillerated
8. This time of having no time will end.
9. There are certain friends that do not read this blog that I feel obligated to hang out with. (I repeat, they do not read this blog or even know I have a blog).
10. I dont' usually wake up cranky.
11. I wonder if we're part of something larger. Like, are we in a cell of something?
12. I hate taxes
13. Why can't people hang paintings outside, like on their fence?
14. I think a person's visually appearance contributes significantly to their personality.
15. I think cooking is a waste of time.
16. I've always wanted to find my pizza stone and now that I have it, it feels like a burden.
17. I don't really enjoy eating unless I'm extremely hungry. Otherwise it's an oral fixation.
18. I think of God in a more Eastern way.
19. I think all these medications may actually be contributing to other health problems.
20. When i was sick, I really thought about someway to manufacture mucus so I could make money from it.
21. When Ethan is sleeping, I don't get enough done.
22. I'm so, so tired.