Stuff to do to have a life right now.....

Learn to play the guitar

Take tap dancing lessons

Work on landscaping the front yard

Find a yoga studio

Hang out more with Camille, Paige, MariClaire, Gini, Sarah, Sibyl, and anybody else who seems fun

Finally get more family pictures up around the house

A cheat

1. FIRST NAME? Jenny not Jennifer just Jenny

2. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? No, my mom liked the name

3. WHEN DID YOU LAST CRY? Almost every day at work, last big cry at the Therapist

4. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING? Occasionally

5. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT? Prociutto

6. KIDS? No, working on that like a bunny in heat

7. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU? Yes, I'm a hell of a lot of fun. I also have loads of self esteem.

8. DO YOU HAVE A JOURNAL? Now I do

9. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT? Yes, but only to be funny. Sometimes it works

10. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS? Yes

11. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? Only if physically thrown over the ledge

12. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL? Wheetabix (it's English) with soy milk and berries

13. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF? No

14. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG? Absolutely

15. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR? Pistacio

16. SHOE SIZE? 8.5

17. RED OR PINK? Red

18. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? Controlling and bossy

19. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST? My Dad

20. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? Nick and Nora blue PJ's with strawberries and matching slipper

21. LAST THING YOU ATE/DRANK? My one cup of regular coffee with soy milk (I'm not allowed any more by the accupuncturist)

22. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW? NPR

23. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? Indigo

24. FAVORITE SMELL? Pumpkin, Lavender, Rosemary

25. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE? Kevin, My sweetheart

26. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE YOU ARE ATTRACTED TO: are they sort of geeky, I just love that!

27. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? Yes, my high school correspondent, Becky

28. FAVORITE DRINK? Rose Wine, dry, but only in warm weather

29. FAVORITE SPORT? College Football, Go Beavers!

30. EYE COLOR? Blue/Green/Grey

31. HAT SIZE? Medium

32. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS? Glasses for distance, and they are Kate Spade!

33. FAVORITE FOOD? Restaraunt Food

34. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDING? Happy Ending

35. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED AT THE MOVIES? The DaVinci Code (for the second time) at the Blue Mouse Theater

36. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING? Blue with strawberries

37. SUMMER OR WINTER? Summer, Fall, Winter, Spring

38. HUGS OR KISSES? Kisses, preferably with tongue, but only if you're family

39. FAVORITE DESSERT? Pavlova with fresh fruit and Moscato

40. WHAT BOOKS ARE YOU READING? Just finished The Expected One by Kathleen McGowan, have a few others waiting on hold at the library. Also have 8 Weeks to Optimum Health by Dr. Andrew Weil and a fertility book by Dr. Alice Domer

41.WHAT'S ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? It's a boring free one

42. I WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT? Nothing because I worked all day then went out with the fun nurses, but Kevin watched Dark Angel, again.

43. FAVORITE SOUNDS? The Six Perfect Words, Kevin saying "I Love You, Here's Some Money" Or "Let Me Take Care Of That."

44. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES? Neither, make mine The Travelling Wilburys

45. THE FURTHEST YOU'VE BEEN FROM HOME? England

46. WHAT'S YOUR SPECIAL TALENT? I am a great nurse, and I give wonderful unsolicited advice. My husband is particularly fond of that.

47. WHERE WHERE YOU BORN: Grants Pass, Oregon on a day so popular my brother used it two years later. But he never forgets my birthday!

48. WHO SENT THIS TO YOU? The Lovely Becky

I noticed this morning

I noticed this morning a disturbing trend. And I have little faith that it will improve.

It's dark outside when I get up to go to work.

Bummer.

Happy Birthday Mom!

We celebrated Mom's birthday on Saturday at The Melting Pot with the grandparents. It was their first experience at a fondue place, so it took a bit of explaining to figure out what five adults were doing for dinner. Our darling waitress, Sarah, said happy birthday.

Mom: I just turned 35!

The waitress looks at me, the woman who has been calling her "Mom." I'm clearly just a touch older than 15.

Grandma: So that would make Jenny...

Mom: I was promiscuous.

Hope, feathers and all

I had a GREAT day today.

Boy it feels so good to write that down.

I saw my chiropractor, and tomorrow (thanks to a cancelation) I'll see the massage therapist. Such is the suffering in my life to start my day with a backrub. Paid for by insurance! And while Cessalie, my wonderful chiropractor, won't be there, I'll settle for seeing her darling husband and cohort, Robert, to adjust my neck and back. Sigh.

Then I spent a million hours with my best in-town college girlfriends and their combined six children at Lena's house. Mattias and I bonded over the swingset when he graciously allowed me to push him on the swing. We had a FINE time.

MariClaire joined me for dinner at A Taste Of India, then we had drinks (well, tea) at Mandoline Cafe. We discussed lots of important current events and didn't spend any time at all gossiping about our men, dogs, friends, friend's men, houses, yardwork, romance novels, sex lives, babies, and crazy assorted family members.

Overall, a very good day. And I'm going to work damn hard to make tomorrow good as well. While I've come to understand that challenging days will occur and be dealt with, I can use everything in my arsenal to make things as good as possible. Therapy, hopefully, will help.

My friends are the best, and so is my husband, my mother, and my wicked stepmother. And those brothers, too, are pretty great.

Thanks guys. Some battles just have to be faced alone, and yesterday was one of those days.

With much Love, my neverending gratitude.

But don't forget about the presents.

:)

Today felt like being trapped in a well.

Stuck treading water just to stay afloat with no progress made. No sign of support. Alone and dreading the unknown, wondering just how in the hell I'm going to get through this.

It has occured to me that I'm not doing nearly as well as I had hoped. That my journey is going to get much darker before the end.

I feel like this journey is taking over my life. Happiness is more about distracting myself from the emotions that remain all too close to the surface.

Anger
Bitterness
Fear
Grief
Lonliness
Jealous
Guilt
Shame

And while working with pregnant women isn't the easiest thing to do at this time, the bigger challenge is my friends, both at work and home. Many coworkers are pregnant, most have children, some are celebrating the arrival of grandchildren. The nurses desks, the break room, the locker room are filled with conversations, baby gifts, and notices for showers. The majority of my close friends have children, some are pregnant as well. There is a great sense of shame involved when, on one hand you are so very happy for your friends' good fortune. Yet the jealousy and anger can be so very overwhelming. We are sincerely joyful for you, only so very heartbroken for ourselves. Unless you have walked this path, you have no idea how intense, complicated, and enveloping it is.

So, my friends, if you do not have a baby chances are I will want to have coffee (decaf please) with you sometime in the very near future.

From about 10am-3pm I cried today. It was a bad day.

(please send presents to my home address. thank you.)

To Whom It May Concern

Dear Lena: Thanks for calling the other day and offering to carpool to Emily's house. I really need that support this week. Looking forward to our "Glory Days" party of three!

Dear Cindy: Thanks for letting me monopolize the conversation today. I truly appreciate your indulgence with my nonstop MeMeMe focus. Tomorrow you can do all the talking.

Dear Kevin: Thanks for letting me spend money on new plants. I'll try not to kill them. But the porch/patio really needed improved fung shwey.

Dear Emily: Thanks for letting us come over to your house on Thursday. And for feeding us.

Dear Alicia: I'm so glad your vacation didn't end with a newspaper article beginning, "And among the injured are...." Let's escape for an hour and have coffee!

Dear Cessalie (my chiropractor): Thanks for letting me cry in your office. My neck feels much better.

Dear future baby: Where are you? Hurry it up!

Surprise meetings

I met Renee and Joel today. She knew me, but I had long forgotten her.

But she didn't mind. Renee quickly reminded me of our single meeting, five years prior.

I was still working part-time at "The Other Hospital." Renee was 40 weeks pregnant with her first child. Her doctor, a nice man but traditional practitioner, scheduled her for a labor induction because "she was due." Renee, wanting to be done but reluctant to induce for convenience, showed up at the hospital. She met me.

Renee said that I told her that she and her baby were fine. That I was unaware of any medical reason for the labor induction. That she didn't have to be induced today. That she could just go home and talk with her doctor about a plan they both felt good about. Renee said she walked out the door. And she came up with a plan, as well as a whole different doctor. She delivered her baby at "My Hospital" with no induction. She was thrilled that she trusted herself and her body to make a good choice.

So I'm walking my dogs home when a tan Ford Explorer pulls up and a pretty redhead waves at me, jumping out of the car. This is Renee.

"I've seen you around town for years and I've always wanted to stop you and thank you for telling me I didn't have to be induced."

Today was a good day to receive such a precious gift. Thanks Renee.

So Mom was over at the house. I was excited to show off our new acquisitions: the hand-me-down kitchen table from Jakki, the IKEA entertainment center, the new Botticelli print from Art.com.

"Oh! She's nekkid."

Mom, it's Botticelli's Venus. It's a nude, a classical famous nude.

"Look, her breast is showing! She's nekkid."

Later on, Kevin pointed to the leftover curtain fabric covering half the painting.

The nekkid half.

small blessings when the waves swell

My husband washed all the dishes. I came home to a neat house.

A new mystery from the library is surprisingly engaging.

Fresh heirloom tomatos from Metropolitan Market sprinkled with sea salt, pepper, and olive oil.

Frosting straight from the can.

A bubble bath that smells like oranges.

Reading in the sunshine after 12 rough hours at work.

"No matter how many losses, or how deep your ocean, you still must cope one wave at a time. Grief, in and of itself, isn't something that will come, last a period of time, then go away. It's like an ocean, sorrow coming in like waves, then receding and coming back when you're not watching, hitting you full force in the back, or slamming you straight in the face. Then, it recedes again. You take it one wave at a time. Eventually, the tide will go out and the waves won't be so high, nor the current so swift. But the ocean will always be there. "
F.L. Mills

Gorgeous weather and I'm on my way to work. That ALWAYS makes me sad. Mom's been in town the last two days. Such a doll, she drove her sewing machine all the way to Tacoma to help me hem curtains. And I only really helped on the last one, because she didn't trust me to do it up right. But they look brilliant! We've been feeding her well as a thank you. Kevin cooked up some fish tacos (with Mahi Mahi tuna, because that man don't cook with cheap ingredients), and we made a field trip to IKEA yesterday for lunch and window shopping. Then Mom was hit with inspiration and put us to work again recovering my ugly dining room chairs with leftover curtain fabric. Looks amazing. She'd love to crack the whip with more home projects, but she has a tennis game today with Cindy/the other ex-wife/the wicked stepmother. So we're safe for now.

And Mom, known as the last person alive to read The Da Vinci Code, check out Dan Brown's website with all the great pictures.

Happiness is

leaving your husband's 24 hour old dirty dishes (plus some newer ones for freshness) all over the house where he left them.

Baby, they are all yours in the morning. Have at it. I'm going to bed.

Dreams

For years I never had dreams worth remembering. Oh, the occasional nightmare as a child about "strangers," of which I had been well drilled in the dangers by my parents. But my sleep was easy and undisturbed. Patterns changed my last year of college. Suddenly I was waking constantly from dreams filled with unease and anxiety.

I had two recurring themes amid mostly unpleasant dreams.

One, where my teeth would fall our of my mouth in chunks. I could feel them crumbling before I spit them into my hand. This would usually occur in a social setting, like work or school.

Two, I discovered quite casually that I could breath underwater. I suppose this is a variation of the flying theme. These dreams were thrilling.

Chase family lore had several dream tales, most of which I've forgotten. But I remember my dad talking about seeing his grandmother by her bed the night before she passed. He woke up, saw her, and went back to bed. When she was discovered in her home, she was wearing the dress he saw.

I dreamt the night before my dad died. I knew he was getting sicker. I did not expect him to survive, although how long it would take was unknown. David was flying out to be with him. In my dream, Dad looked young and healthy, like I remember from childhood. My dad at his very best, before disease and addiction took over his body. His hair was dark. He wore a black t-shirt and khaki pants. We were talking. People were going to come over to talk about him.

"They need to figure out what to do. I don't know what to do."

I walked over to my dad and wrapped my arms around him. Dad was sitting, and I stood over him with my arms around his shoulders. I rested my chin on his head.

"It's OK Dad. I love you. You can go."

I woke sitting straight up in bed. David called me 20 minutes later, to say Dad was on life support in the ICU and the family was talking about what to do. He died later that afternoon.

I still dream about my dad. I like to think he's visiting me. In my dreams, we both know he's dead, but we rarely say anything about it.

Jerry sent us a letter by Jeff, who just lost his wife, Sarah. He shares with her the last moments of her life. In this fashion, he generously allows her friends and family to share in that as well.

The morning before you died I had a dream. You were in a new body and you were on a green hillside in the sunshine. You were marveling at the beauty of your new hand. Then you just laughed and started dancing. You finally got the new body you so longed for in this life. It is a beautiful, whole body and it is eternal.

Perhaps he was visited as well. I like to think so. Maybe he does, too.