I’m not exactly sure how I packed so much in a weekend that involved praying to the porcelain god, but at the tail end of it, it seems to have been a pretty busy one.

Of course, my time-sense must be skewed by starting the weekend on Thursday night. Honestly, I didn’t mean to do that, but after I’d sat at work for an hour on Friday and banged out a post, the world started seriously spinning. I had to go take care of one thing with a contractor (who may not have known why I was listing to one side, but I bet the truck driver did.) You’d think I’d have permanently learned the “don’t drink when you’re sick” lesson by now, but my memory, she is short and I have to relearn that one every five years or so. I wasn’t as over the flu as I’d hoped, and the hangover brought it back with a vengeance.

Fortunately, my ex owed me for the previous weekend, so he just kept the kids instead of exposing them to whatever bugs I may have had and the pathetic sight of their mom turning green. I missed Friday night’s game, which really chapped my hide, especially since they won.

I made it to Saturday’s game though. They played Seamus’ (undefeated) team from last year, and got beat again, but they gave it as good as they got for a few innings this time. Some other parents flaked on the snacks, so I volunteered and found myself surrounded by ten swarming children looking for ice cream at the snack bar. Fortunately, by then vertical was a possibility.

I’m getting so into this baseball thing that it’s a little ridiculous. I’m not quite turning into a Little League parent. I can’t put my time as a junior rodeo official behind me enough to hassle the umps (I yelled back at parents and I wouldn’t blame them if they did too.) But I know all of the kids’ names and I seem to be working the snack bar tomorrow evening after work. I’m going to miss it when the season is over. Hmm, I may have to look in to summer league. I hope he wants to play!

But then all of the quiet at home got to me, so I called up Eric. We’d left it at dating when possible, but not pursuing a relationship. He wanted company too, so I spent the night with him.

It was awfully nice to be able to go to someone that I like just because I was lonely, and it’s also nice to be able to put the pressure of finding someone new aside. I don’t need someone new; I’m seeing someone that I like. But if I do run across someone else that I’d like to go out with, I’m perfectly free to pursue that too. It’s kind of liberating, and I like it for now. I’d be unhappy if I wanted more time from him, but as it stands, this is good. If we stop being happy to see each other, then we move on; as simple as that.

So that left me with Sunday to fill, and with a whole stack of jobs that I should have started on last weekend. I got at least ten of them done before I started to get tired and make dumb mistakes, and only have three more to worry about next weekend. Of course, those three are restaurants, so I have to get up ridiculously early to catch them before they open, but that’s next week’s problem. For now, I’m caught up. One guy even paid me in cash, which sort of made up for his talking me down on my price.

So a three-day weekend for the price of two. Not bad, not bad.

•••••

 

Urff.

I may have just the smallest hangover.

I may have toasted “not having cancer” one or four times too many.

At least I did remember the lesson that whiskey hurts way less in the morning than the equivalent amount of beer. I could do with another two or seven hours of sleep, but the headache’s not all that bad really, compared to some of the hurling mornings-after that I remember from my wilder years. Well, wilder year (singular) really. 30 was a good one!

Anyway, since we were at a fancy-pants brew pub, I thought I give it a good college try and have a fancy-pants beer. Nope, still don’t like fancy beers. I’m doomed to be a cheap beer date for the rest of my life. I can live with that.

Our friend Mel didn’t come, so it was just me and Marci. (Hi Marci! *Waves*) We met Jeff and hung out with some of his regular entourage. He’s moved Redneck Karaoke night to this new place, which is nice and all and has a much higher tooth to person ratio but doesn’t seem to have the number of cowboy hats that I like in a bar. It wasn’t packed, but it was fun. I became my usual mellow grinning drunk. No, I did not sing. There doesn’t exist enough alcohol in the world to make me sing karaoke. I pass out long before that point.

I did learn that I’m not as anonymous as I’d like to think, driving around town. Someone said that he’d been waving to me for years, but apparently I’ve been my oblivious self that whole time. He even knew that I switched trucks. Hmm. Might be the giant antlers pasted on my windows. After all, I recognize other people’s logos, and that is what it’s there for. I should pay attention, I guess. The things you learn in bars.

All in all, a nice night. I needed that!

•••••

 

In the spirit of wrapping things up, I called Eric one last time last night.

And he answered, for a wonder.

Once he figured out how long it had been and that I really was sort of perturbed about it, he apologized all over himself. He had all sorts of excuses, but what it really boiled down to was that he’s too busy for a girlfriend and (unspoken) was obviously not into me enough to make the effort. Which is fine; I was wrapped up in my own stuff anyway.

I told him that this wasn’t worth pursuing a relationship out of, but I wouldn’t be adverse to a date now and then, although I wasn’t going to sit by the phone. I might or might not be available when he finds the time to go out. He is a nice guy, and someone that I could see casually dating now, but no more than that.

It was nice to be able to tell him what I felt. Usually I don’t get that chance with the ones that just walk away.

I don’t know if I’ll bother putting the ad back up for a while. I was so disillusioned on the whole internet dating thing that one sort-of success doesn’t quite make pimping myself worth it. I may change my mind (hell, I probably will) but for now, I’m just going to lay low. I’m not really in the mood for drama, even if it does make good journal-fodder.

•••••

 

And with that, it was all over.

No cancer; not even precancerous whatnot. What a relief!

Man, it’s been a long month. So tomorrow night, if I’m not hacking up a lung, my girlfriends and I plan to go out and hoist ourselves a few. I even have a new buddy to hang with. I like her enormously even though I haven’t yet met with her in person or even chatted online. But she’s M’s friend and sounds really just like us, which is a little frightening. I’m looking forward to hanging with her and swapping stories about ridiculous men and bad dates; between the three of us, we’ll have enough to talk all night. Not that that’s ever been a problem with the two of us.

So, in a word, whew.

•••••

I went down and got poked with a giant needle today, just for fun. Watching the ultrasound part was interesting, but when it came to showing GIANT NEEDLES in my FLESH, well, I did have to look away. I was all numbed up, but the whole concept was just ooky.

Eight times, I got stabbed. No, wait, nine. Five times in the suspicious one, one failed needle aspiration in the new one, and then three more pokes in that one. Yeah, I’ll be sporting some Technicolor tan lines for a while.

And why is it that people who mean well seem to be commanding me not to feel emotions about this? I can accept an occasional, “You?ll be fine” as the reassurance that it’s meant, but my landlord just popped his head in to say that. When I responded that I knew in my head that I probably would be but I was still scared about it, he came back with an angry, “Well, don’t be scared!”

The hell? Sure, I might as well stop breathing. Of course I’m going to be scared about this, and I don’t think that there’s anything wrong with that. I’ve shut down emotions about it as much as I can, to the point where other emotions may have been casualties as well. It’s getting to where I don’t dare admit around here that I’m upset about it because it just upsets other people. I shudder to think of the fallout I’d have to deal with if I actually do have something. I can’t just tough it out all the time; I am human, after all.

It’s going to be a very nerve wracking few days, especially if I’m not allowed to talk about it. Stupid people.

•••••

 

See, this is what retail therapy, a credit card, and the internet get you:

 

 

 

 

Don’t they look pretty?

Sure, the truck needs a washing, but I don’t really care. It’s still mud season anyway.

Actually, I don’t really care about a whole lot of things lately. I’m awash in apathy.

Cowboy didn’t call (and I also found out that he didn’t actually go fishing - which makes that the first time he’s ever lied to me) and do I care? No, not really.

Eric also doesn’t call - that one doesn’t seem to get the whole ‘making an effort’ deal. Do I care? No. Not enough to either call him or confront him on his behavior. Whatever, dude.

I don’t get tested until next week? Not worrying about it, which is actually sort of a relief.

The kids are off for vacation and one is still grounded. I think that particular punishment was a little harsh for the crime anyway, so I have no plans to enforce if this weekend.

I’m not a complete blob; at least I’m getting my work done, but the dishes are piled up in the sink and the floor needs vacuuming and I do not care. I’d spend the weekend curled up on the couch reading if I had a decent book, but I don’t. Am I going to go down to the bookstore though? No, probably not. I’ll just watch Tivoed episodes of Good Eats and old DVDs and be lazy.

I just do not give a damn.

•••••

The doc seems to still think that it’s nothing, but oh, hey, the MRI shows something on the other side as well. That’s not nothing; that’s a vague something.

I told him to prove it, so I’m still going in for a biopsy, only instead of just getting one side poked with a giant needle, I may get both, depending on what the ultrasound of the other side shows. I’m getting very anxious about the whole thing and I would like to just get it over with.

•••••

 

A little retail therapy seemed in order, so I succumbed to the latest Victoria’s Secret catalog and bought some fancy bras and new tires. Well, I think that’s where I got the tires. There was a lot of clicking going on at that point. I may also have adopted a foreign baby; we’ll have to see what I get in the mail in the next few weeks. Internet shopping is dangerous, man.

•••••

 

I also took myself to the rodeo on Sunday, the first one since Cowboy left. I should have waited until I had someone to go with, because it was just melancholy watching by myself. It just reminded me of how much I miss that whole life. I want to be able to go behind the chutes and hang out in the early morning and watch the slack. I want to watch it with someone who knows what’s going on, so we can both wince at a bad throw at the same time. I’d really like to cheer for step-son and his friends, and be part of the after-rodeo beer review.

Why didn’t I go with Eric, you ask? I sort of wonder the same thing. Apparently he doesn’t like crowds. Enough to refuse to go to something that I am really into. Yeah, not so much with the impressed there. I may continue to see him now and then, but he’s turning out to be someone that I just don’t see dating long-term.

•••••

 

Seamus had his second game last Saturday, so I played photographer. I brought out the big guns and took pictures of all of the kids at bat to give to their parents (who were most appreciative when I passed them around last night.)

My folks came down to watch too, and it was a really good game. Sure, they lost, but they had a fabulous time doing it.

 

   

 

 

My little jock.  

He’s so much better than last year that it’s really much more fun for him. It started raining during the game last night; we were ahead, so half of the parents didn’t want to call it until at least the fourth inning, where it would count as a game and not have to be replayed. The kids were all troopers even if the other half of the parents were whining about being wet. And I was not impressed with the guy who pulled his kid because he wasn’t getting to play enough—there are more kids than positions, and that particular kid complains no matter what position he’s in. Whatever dude. Way to encourage your boy.

I finally got that half-roll from February’s sanity trip finished and developed and now I’m jonesing for another one. I should just buy a season pass to Yosemite this year.

 

 

 

  Angus and I started out in Anderson taking a walk. With mud and snow on the ground, it was a good time to look for tracks. I think this was a small bear, but I forgot to put something down in the photo for reference. Could have been a cat, looking at it, but I don’t think I would have continued the hike if I had thought that then. 

edited to add: while changing photo hosts nearly two years later, that is so obviously a cat.

 

 

     

This one was clearly a buck. Good to know there are still some up there, and right where I like to hunt, too.

 

 

 

    

Angus’ first time in snow. There was a lot of leaping and running.

 

 

 

     

Looking back over the valley from the road up to Five Corners.

 

Then it was on to Yosemite. These pictures speak very well for themselves.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Winter is the prettiest time up there.