I am She

I'm still working on that novel. It's pretty stupid, but like I said before, since there are a lot of stupid people in the world I'm thinking there might be an audience.

Or maybe it's for a stupid audience of one: me.

It is quite a dose of therapy. As the autobiographical crap keeps slipping in there, I'm faced with the many ways in which my protagonist is like me. But she's separate enough for me to be a bit more analytical and honest about her than I might be about my self.

When I think she's boring, it's usually because she's not being very proactive. I need to fix that to make her more interesting and to make her more capable of fulfilling a healthy, satisfying character arc.

Fixing my protagonist can be a simple matter of de-wimpifying her dialogue and giving her a kick in the pants when it comes to confronting her antagonist. Shouldn't the same work in real life?

What can Bridget say to Todd that might improve their chances of making things better, more honest, healthier?

This novel may be just for me.

Drinking and Blogging

I'm going to be utterly profound... because I can. I was about to post some of the things I've been thinking on my public blog, but then I remembered some good advice the voices in my head gave me... not to drink and operate the internet. But you know me. I like to live on the wild side. But, I can be cautious, too. So I thought it better to log off my real facebook before saying anything that might prove to be too great of an embarrassment. So you get it all here...

And no emailing boys til I sober up either.

So, I'm listening to a recording of piano music played by the boy who replaced the Spawn of Satan in my young throbbing heart several decades ago.... and I truthfully heard voices. They weren't telling me to throw myself from a bridge or to commit any crime or anything like that. In fact, I couldn't tell what they were saying... just that they were human (or at least human-like voices) and they were emanating from the music itself. That was pretty cool. Not exactly profound, but cool, nonetheless. I'm not going to email Piano Boy, though...

...no matter how much I want to tell him that the sound of his fingertips massaging the keys of a piano cause me to hear the utterances of angels...

...no matter how much I want to thank him for rescuing me from that bridge (okay, I don't know what the keyboard angels were saying, just as I'm sure they weren't telling me to jump, and I did get the impression that they didn't want me to jump.)

I'm still working on that novel. I know it's totally stupid, but there are an awful lot of stupid people in the world these days, so I'm still hopeful that it will find a market.

Don't know what I'm drinking. Decided to just grab one bottle at a time without reading the labels. My eyesight is going downhill anyway, so I figured this would be a taste of things to come.

I'm not much of a drinker. A real light weight -- or as Todd used to say, "a cheap date." Cheap date... I should have seen all this coming. Not going to go there, though. When I started in, I thought this was going to be one of those morose depressing morose redundant depressing drunken episodes that make me feel like listening to Patsy Cline's "Crazy" and putting my hair in rollers and imagining myself dying in a plane crash... but this has actually been a happy time (mostly).

Shoot! I had something profound to say and I totally can't remember it now! Sorry to make you read this without any satisfying conclusion. If you're disappointed, please have a few drinks and then feel free to leave a drunken comment.

(sign above can be purchased here)

Arrghh! You're turning me into a pirate, Todd!

I'm tired of nagging. Twice a month, I have to nag if I want to avoid the insufficient funds charges on our household bank account. Twice a month, the big unavoidable automatic payments go through. And twice a month, we (often needlessly) pay these fees because Todd doesn't transfer money into the household account.

He has been working, so I don't think its a matter of not having the money (but then, I wouldn't know that for sure because his business account is as secret as the illuminati's iCalendar). He's just too darn busy to get around to transferring it to the family account so we (I) can have a little peace of mind (and use of that $34 a pop that's going down the drain every time he's too lazy to manage his money as a supposed business owner).

He's too busy. Poor boy. Putting in three to six hours on the job site (including commute time) and then having to watch football on TV when you get home can be so demanding!

In a couple of weeks the property tax bill is coming due. I have no idea how we're going to pay it. Last time I was able to pay it all by myself by sinking my entire writing advance check into it. But I still haven't finished the project that was an advance for, so I'm tapped out.

My gut has been all tied up in knots. I woke up this morning and I could hardly move -- the pain was so excruciating. I've cleaned up my diet to the point that it shines like the top of Mr. Clean's head, so I don't think it's being caused by food allergies or additives or preservatives... I think this time it's just good old stress.

He bought me some expensive probiotics to try to take care of my problems. I wonder if it ever crossed his mind that such things might not even be necessary if he would just take the time to transfer funds on time?

At least Todd is able to sleep at night and eat without fear of what convulsions that might send his digestive tract into!

Arrghh! That's about all I can say.

Todd Apologized

I don't have time to write a blog right now, but I did have to take a moment to say this:

Todd was being a real @$$#*!% last night while we were getting ready for company. Big deal. Nothing out of the ordinary.

What makes it blogworthy is the fact that later, after the guests had left, he actually apologized. He said, "I'm sorry for being snippy earlier."

I was speechless. I could have said, "It's okay," but I didn't because that would be lying. It wasn't even the apology that blew me away as much as the fact that he NOTICED that he had behaved inappropriately.

That's all. Nothing clever. Nothing funny. Nothing Profound. But it's as if the world shifted on its axis.

Novel Idea

I'm working on a novel that, although it is definitely fiction, has a lot of autobiographical stuff in it. It will be interesting to see where it goes if I get any publishers interested in it.... Will I be able to let Todd read it? or will I keep it a secret from him?

Within the story, I'm tackling some of my deepest fears. If a person cannot be honest with another person about her fears, how are they supposed to have a relationship? And yet, how Todd would react if I were to share that sharing my deepest fears with him IS one of my deepest fears.

This novel could end up being the true test of our relationship.

I'm tired of being fake, and yet I want to feel safe. Is there a place where a person can be both genuine AND safe? I would run there so fast my running would turn to flight.

Brother Husbands: What I learned from my Fauxfile

A lot of crazy things have been going on lately. I feel like Alice, and I just stumbled into a rabbit hole that dropped me smack-dab in the middle of the weirdest soap opera ever conceived.

Where to start? How about the proposal? Yeah, that might be the place.

So, I found out a guy I work with is a polygamist . . . or at least a wanna-be polygamist. Evidently the first gal he and his beloved wife were courting didn't work out. She moved in with them for a while, but (he says) they never consummated the relationship. Now, he didn't say that to my face, 'cuz he doesn't know I know. When I heard about it, I had to find out for myself, so I created a fauxfile (yep, it's becoming a habit) on the same polygamy dating service where he and his wife were registered.

I proceeded to drop the bait--say the things I knew would peak his interest. I wanted to dialog to be sure it was really him and not just someone impersonating him in an effort to sully his reputation. It didn't take long to confirm that it was indeed my colleague. The problem at this point became the fact that I don't really exist. I know this guy, and I'm not out to destroy him or to lead him on, or to break his heart or anything like that. I just wanted to know. (I felt I needed to know because the nature of our working relationship could be interpreted as implying my endorsement of his ethics.)

Now I know, but that knowledge didn't come without it's "baggage". . . the by-product of my investigative performance was an invitation--you might say a proposal--to move in with him and his wife and "try it out." He said he wanted to spoil me and the baby. (Did I forget to mention that I told him I was pregnant? I had heard that he wanted kids, so I thought that would be a nice touch.) Once again: "Oh, the tangled web we weave . . ."

How has this affected my real life interactions with Bradley (we'll call him Bradley. I don't think I've used that name yet.)

Well, I must admit it's been a bit awkward. There have been times when I've thought I slipped up and some hint may have seeped though to reveal my ploy. The crazy thing is the emotional contortions that have accompanied all of this. I've had to deal with my thoughts, feelings, beliefs on the issue, and they have been all over the map. Maybe I'll get into the depths of the issue in a later blog, but for now I just want to say that I have problems with it. Or perhaps I should be more specific and say that I have problems with polygyny (the most commonly practiced form of polygamy--in which one husband has multiple wives).

In researching the subject, I discovered that it's not just Mormons in America who are into this practice for religious reasons. There seems to be a movement of spiritualizing polygamy among people of varying religious persuasions. I used to think it was just a matter of "baptizing horniness," but I've stumbled upon supposedly deeper reasons people have for condoning and pursuing this practice. The reason I find most disturbing is the one they use to answer the objection critics raise regarding jealousy. When asked, "Won't the wives be jealous of each other because they have to share such an intimate relationship with others?" the pious polygynists rave about the benefits of learning to overcome this "sin" of jealousy. Apparently this is a problem unique to women because they are the ones who must be refined by this process, while their men bounce blissfully from bed to bed.

WHAT? If anyone needs practice in overcoming jealousy it's men. They are freaking territorial! I mean, they would pee on their doorsteps to mark their territory if they weren't afraid of "the look" they'd get from us (the keepers of the vaginas). They are green-eyed monsters when it comes to sharing their women! How about some religions in America that focus on overcoming that little character flaw?!! [*10/13/11 -- see note in comments below for clarification]

Some argue that men aren't naturally monogamous. But they think women are more so by nature? Without religion to direct us, the only reason women appear to be more bent toward monogamy is that we get tied down by rugrats so it's not as practical to roam. That doesn't mean we aren't ever tempted ourselves. Remember the temporary insanity with Charlie, when I said I didn't necessarily want to leave Todd and break up our family, but "I fantasized about having two houses next door to one another--one to house one of my families and one for the other. In one I would only be a mommy and in the other I would be both mother and lover"?

I've been joking for a long time about starting a polyandrous sect (as in Brother Husbands). In theory, that would allow us to be a multiple income family without me even needing to work . . . I could invest more time with the children, delve into all the hobbies I've longed to spend more time on--my art and poetry, get pampered at the day spa, and never be short-changed on sex due to football season (make sure there's at least one who doesn't like each sport).

Work-aholic husbands? No problem! The more the merrier! Just bring in the bacon and I'll never whine about "You're not there for me enough" -- I've got Pierre and Johnny and Byron to keep a smile on my face, so I'll be happy when you do manage to find time to come home from the office.

Sounds like a much better deal to me than sharing the house with Sister Wives. I mean, women can be real bitches to live with. But the woman who is treated like a goddess tends to act like one, too.

Staying with Problems

I came across a quote today that left me feeling just a little bit proud--or at least "in good company."

Perhaps this is why, even when things get difficult, I'm able to keep a generally cheerful, positive attitude:

“It's not that I'm so smart, it's just that I stay with problems longer .”

~ Albert Einstein

Some say that I've stayed with Todd too long. Perhaps. However, I do feel that in spite of the discomfort, I have gleaned a lot of wisdom (and empathy) that I wouldn't otherwise have. So, that's good.

The Einstein quote made me smile. "I stay with problems longer." It had never occurred to me that I'd gain marital counsel from Albert Einstein.

When we look at academics, it is abundantly true that there is great value to staying with those problems--to keeping plugging away until we understand.

The persistence that leads to a student truly grasping a concept is not the same as being apathetically content with the status quo. It is a resolve that "I will not flee this problem--I will not give up--until I understand the very root of it, so that I can apply the principles to other problems in the future."

That doesn't mean that I will spend the rest of my life reducing fractions or diagramming sentence structure.