Dear Roger: Run Boy! RUN NOW!

So it has been an enlightening and interesting week. I have always known that my small daughter was particularly bright and talented, beyond what my own ego imagined, but I really had no idea the true depth of her abilities and now that I do, I am more than a little freaked out.

Her school sent her to be tested several months ago. It was a long day of intense testing that had followed a myriad of interview forms about her background and family history, her teachers observations and her classroom work and a series of observed tasks and what have you. I got the results of all of this yesterday and I have to tell you that I was beaming. My daughter is,"Intellectually Gifted". Her abilities cover not just one particular thing, but the whole shebang, though she is off the charts on verbal ability. I wasn't really shocked there, after all the kid could talk an ear off a statue and she throws down $5 words like its normal for a 7 year old to do so. We play games like,"Thesaurus" that I made up where we start off with a simple word like,"Small" and come up with as many words as possible that mean the same thing. Her first word in the game yesterday was,"minuscule", so yeah....

Her teacher tells me that she seems to have a real talent for writing songs and plays as well as performing for the class. She recounted how my daughter found out about her birthday and in 15 minutes had written a personalized birthday song that mentioned her pets,and that she had even drafted 3 little boys to sing back up for her as she stood up in front of the class flipped her hair back and belted out the song and then took a bow. She is always writing songs and plays and even composing little ditties about her monkey, "Jackson" both stuffed and even the real one. Last night she was writing a new song called,"Purple pants" in honor of her favorite young mans new fashion oddity. She wrote her own song for the talent show after her and her brother had severe ,'Artistic differences" over the performing of Spencer Bells ,"Beautiful More So". Her song is about Zombie Gummy Bears and is heavy on harmonica with very familiar dance moves,(remind me to limit her viewing of 100 Monkeys videos for a little while), and is so damn funny and cute that I cant help but think she may do well just on sheer cuteness and ballsyness factor alone.

I have a lot to be thinking about over this summer. The school is going to be working on trying to develop a plan to keep her challenged in this next year, and they are already giving her special privileges in the library and I am looking into finding a music teacher for her that is capable of teaching her the musical instruments she wants to learn. I guess I am going to have to step up my game on teaching her French like she wants, though I am still trying to talk her out of thinking she is going to marry that poor boy and drag him to, "France for 6 months and then Italy so she can study art", though with her abilities and determination, she may just be able to do it and in a vastly shorter time period than I had anticipated.

Dear Roger:My Muse Ran Off With My Ambition

I dont know if its Spring fever, the fact I have been distracted by all the pretty boys wandering around, the need to find a job, or just the general mess that is constantly going on in my life, but writing has not been coming easy for me lately. I think its maybe because I miss coffee so much. maybe I need my heart to be racing along like a hummingbird on speed in order to fuel that manic maniac that is my muse, but I have been lackadaisical at best. I have revised a few of my songs/poems, edited my stories and come up with a few ideas, and actually my moleskine has been getting utilized pretty regularly to jot down my ideas and musings, but as for my regularly scheduled story updates and writing...I am sadly remiss.

I have been going to the gym pretty regularly and I am getting in really good shape. The regular tanning is a double edged sword for me. Its helping my skin and its nice to not look as pale as a corpse, but the down side is that every single scar on my body now stands out in sharp detail, especially the ones on my chest and and stomach. The ones on my throat dont show as well which is nice, but the others really glow and I am not really happy about that. I am not particularly vain or concerned with things cosmetic, after all, I dont wear makeup or go for any of that salon stuff, but I really dont like looking all scarred up. My hands are actually the worst. The are all scarred and battered and rough looking. I have seen men with more femininen hands than what I have, but I guess with the life and work I have done, its to be expected. My son actually has my hands, we noticed that one evening while we were cooking dinner and it was kinda weird to see that, he even tends to chew his nails or pick and the cuticles when he is tense like I do.

Speaking of my son...he is most definitely NOT a morning person. I get up every morning at 0500 to start my day. Its part of my routine and it works for me. It also means I usually get the first shower and the majority of the hot water. He bitched and complained and threw such a fit that I challenged him to get his butt up and shower before me. He boldly claimed that it would be,"No problem" and he actually managed to do it for about 3 days. He managed to get up and he used all the hot water and he was mighty proud of himself, but then a teenagers true nature showed through and he began whining about the early hour. He started whining and saying, "You go first", which as you know, threw off my routine and ticked me off. I am not saying I am obsessive compulsive,(not much anyway), but I have ways of doing things and when I get into a way of doing things, I do not like to deviate or change them up. It was rather loud around here for a couple of mornings and I had to threaten to break out the bag of frozen corn to get him up and moving. He repaid me by using every drop of hot water. Kids are wonderful critters.

Man hunting has been pretty dismal. The pretty gay boys are out in force, but luckily my gaydar seems to be pretty attuned to them now and I am wasting less and less time with dogs that wont hunt.

I am hoping to do some writing this week, I have a few ideas kicking around in my skull and I need to get them written down. Hopefully I will find a job pretty soon, things have been pretty slow and as usual the economy and job market is still pretty slow for me. I dont know what I want to do and that is the big problem for me. I dont see myself working around the general public very well. I had considered going back into EMS or teaching or even school, but I just dont know. I am kinda at loose ends and I think I need to take stock of things and figure out what I am going to do.

Dear Roger:Spring Forward

So with Spring supposedly being here I have been hoping that I would finally be able to shed my heavy winter gear and begin running around in t-shirts and jeans, but up here,Winter retains its chilly grip a lot longer than I am used to. Its almost the middle of freaking May and I am still wearing my layers of shirt, hoodie, and leather jacket! The warmest it has been up here was 70 one day a couple of weeks ago for an hour or two. Like I say all the time, I dont mind the rain, in fact I enjoy it, but the cold really kicks my ass. I have been going to the gym almost daily and I am seeing a lot of progress. I have muscles in my calves that are freakishly hard and my thighs are getting there. If the progress would move on up to my ass and stomach, I would be a happy woman. My progress in cardio got slowed down a little after I went out the other day to make copies of sons report for him after he killed the printer. It turns out that there is no place within a 2.5 mile radius to make a damn copy, so I had to walk all the way up to Office Max in my Summer boots to get it done. My Summer boots are not good for a 5 mile walking round trip. By the time I was done and made it back to the house, I had bloody blisters on both feet. I was limping pretty damn bad, but I had to book it home to get daughter off the bus. I gave the boots to my friend because if I cant walk 5 miles in them without crippling myself, I cant use them. I have an odd gait because of my knees and I have to be careful what types of boots I wear. Thats the first pair of Ariats I have ever owned that crippled me like that in over 1o years of buying them. Ive been tanning and its helping keep my skin from breaking out too bad and that is nice, but I dont want to tan too dark and look like one of those freaky middle aged women that look all bronzed and baked.

Im going to see Flogging Molly the end of the month and I am pretty damn thrilled to be going. Its going to be a long assed bus ride to get to them, but it will be worth it. I am looking forward to the energy that will be going on in that environment.

My social life is still lacking. I was supposed to have a date on Friday and we had made tentative plans to meet downtown and go to dinner and a club, but I really dont have much in common with the guy and hes about half my age,(which is WONDERFUL), but we haven't spoken since Tuesday and I wont play games or chase him, so I plan other things and if hear from him, I will try and fit him in. I still haven't worked up the nerve to talk to the guy I like at the Sbucks, but I kinda suspect he is gay or married or both. He has a ring he sometimes wears, and I have been doing some research on men and rings and its all very confusing now days but on the right hand on the ring finger, according to many sources, it means gay and in a committed relationship. So with my luck that is what is the situation. He is very interesting though not conventionally handsome, he has the whole,'Broody professor" thing going on and I know he is educated and that is damn sure interesting to me. I dont know what to think, soo many men up here are hard to read that I have just decided to take a,"Wait and see" approach to dating. I go to the gym, I am getting in very good shape, I am working on looking good, taking care of myself, being happy and busy and enjoying life. I dont need a man around but a companion would be nice for keeping the chill of Spring away, but I am not going to stress it because I have made it years without one and I am fully capable of continuing on in that same route.

Dear Roger; Dreams of Black Sheep

Well this was not the best of Mothers days, but then again since Robert had the bad taste to die on the holiday 4 years ago, I haven't really felt like celebrating it. I spent most of the day moping around on the couch, reading whatever drifted across my computer screen, looking a pictures of the pretty boys that I enjoys looking at, and then manically doing laundry and dishes.

The kids went back to church today. I dont blame them. They enjoy church as a social event if nothing else and that is pretty much what they come home talking about. Son went on to hang out with his girlfriends family for the day and they took him over to Vancouver for the day. Daughter hung out around the apartment, driving me right up the wall. When I am in mopey mode its best to just leave me to lurk on the couch in peace and quiet, but she insists on talking and asking me 50 questions a minute as well as dragging out everything I put away. I know she misses her brothers, and honestly, large in part of my problem today was that I missed her other two brothers as well. I called and talked to them for a little bit, but they were busy with little boy things and they aren't huge fans of talking on the phone, so it was a short conversation. I miss them horribly and the conversations didn't really help with that much.

It rained again today, but it is finally showing signs of warming up around here. I dont care if the sun shines or not,but I dont want it to be cold anymore. I am getting tanned by going to the tanning booth at my gym and I am also getting in pretty damn good shape as well, so its not like I just sit inside and mope all the time.

I was thinking about Robert a lot today. I can imagine if he was alive we would be talking pretty damn regularly on FB or twitter and catching up on things. I talk to my other cousins off and on, but we dont have quite the rapport that Robert and I had, I guess us black sheep just had a language all our own. I have spoken to people I went to high school with and I found that I had more of a connection with them than I ever imagined, oddly enough, all because of that same odd little band! The world is a very small place Rog, and sometimes it feels like the strings that connect us all are wound a little tighter the closer you get to Texas. I have been thinking about making a trip back to West Texas to visit Robert and my kin, and now I have a friend back there to maybe see as well. Ive been dreaming about driving across West Texas lately. Dont know what the hell that means, but its been recurring over the past week or so and its a bit off for me. I never drive across West Texas during the day if im on my own, I never drive a small car, and I never go unarmed and in my dream I am doing all those things headed back WEST of all things!, so I dont know what it means, but maybe I need to do some research to sort it all out.

Dear Roger: Awkward Overtures, or Trying to Meet a Man

I am back at it again, trying to show my interest in some poor fool that should probably run as fast as he can. I am really bad at it though, so he is probably safe. He comes into the Starbucks I hang out at and I find him to be pretty interesting. Hes not conventionally handsome, as a matter of fact, he looks like a ginger haired Snape, but he has the same kind of aura about him and I find that rather alluring. We have exchanged glances, but I tend to vapor lock and be unable to go beyond that. For some reason my abilities to communicate with the opposite sex revert to middle school level when I am truly interested in someone. I ought to just give up and be content with remaining manless, but I REALLY would like some company, at least on a temporary basis, but I am exceedingly picky. What I find desirable in a man has changed soo dramatically as to be a bit shocking. No longer to I look at the overpowering, strongly masculine, powerful men. Now I tend to look at the oddly slight, younger, artsy, musician, often tattooed, I could kick their asses, fey kind of men. Perhaps it relates back to my issues with my ex, I dont know, but the type of man I previously liked, makes me nervous and uncomfortable.

Its been a busy week for me. I have been getting out of the house every day so I dont just sit here and feel sorry for myself. I took the kids to see 'Rango" and we loved it. The pop culture references were flowing so fast and furious in that movie that I was rapt just keeping up with them and it was fantastic and funny to see something soo well thought out and funny. It was a treat for adults and for kids.

I have been hitting the gym as often as I can. Tanning has been helping my skin and working out has been helping not only my shape, but my mood. I feel almost euphoric when I have had a good work out, except on days when my damn knee is driving me crazy. There are a few good looking guys that work out there and I enjoy watching them almost as much as I enjoy working out.

I have concert tickets for Flogging Molly! That was quite a coupe for me and I am thrilled to be able to go and see them. Even if I end up going alone, I will enjoy the show I am sure. They are one of my favorite bands of all time and I am looking forward to seeing them as much as I am looking forward to seeing the 100 monkeys. Living in Portland is sometimes cold and dreary due to the weather, but the constant flow of things to do and see makes it all worth it. I love this city and living in it is a constant adventure.

Dear Roger: Picking At The Edges Of A Wound

I survived the meeting the other day. It wasn't particularly fun, after all, I had to ride the bus all the way down to hell and gone to get there, and that is always and interesting symphony of smells and experiences, but I got there and then filled out all the paperwork. I then had to wade through a personality survey and a psyche profile that is a "one size fits all" piece of garbage that seeks to discover just how twitchy I am at this point in the game. I was pretty blunt about things. There is really no point about trying to hide or blow smoke up anyones ass about how I feel about my life at this point, so I got all that done and I am sure they will find it pretty interesting. Not having a relationship with your parents and being pretty open about telling them you only live for your kids, is like a "BAM" this person has ISSUES kinda indicator.

I had to talk to the psychologist next. Its her job to assess if I have healed well enough from my PTSD to be able to enroll in an educational or job training program and get on with my life. Its a program with will help me get a bit of a nudge into getting a decent job as well, but I have to jump through all these hoops and some of them are a real pain in the ass. This was the worst of them. She asked me about pretty much everything guaranteed to get a rise out of me. The only thing that really got a dramatic reaction though, was when she asked about you. I still cant talk about you. I can talk about my ex and all the shit he did to me, and I can even joke about it with a sort of gallows humor. I can talk about my parents and all the crap I went through with them. I can talk about the death of G to some extent and keep it together. I was even able to talk about Robert and grandma and grandpa, but then she asked about what I did to vent or relieve stress and I said I write this mess here, and she started asking about you and I lost it. I am so tough and hard core about most things. I dont hardly cry over anything anymore, but when she started flicking at the edges of losing you and I remembered that day and that damned phone call, I couldn't breathe. She said I need grief counseling in a very serious way. Haha! Yeah, maybe about what? 16 years ago now? Its just my pain to bear. I mourn all of you and sometimes I think that is my lot in life, to be the one who remembers and mourns for you and all the ones who are gone. It seems like everyone else has forgotten.

I got through the rest of it. It was like having your guts ripped out and dumped on the floor and poked through, and then when they were done they just tell you, "Okay! we will tell you in a few weeks how twitchy you are." I stayed home yesterday and put myself back together and just did some writing and thinking. It was no surprise my back hurt, I was so damn tense all day that it was hard to relax to sleep. I must have looked pretty pissed off and stressed on the bus, no one messed with me or sat next to me and it was crowded!

Another good thing about living in Portland, I get to wear all the black I want and no one gives me a sideways glance over it. If we get to move to where I want to move to this summer, we will fit right in. The SE area is pretty funky and interesting and its where I had wanted to be in the first place. I am looking at apartments down there and if all goes well, we will hopefully find a place we can afford that is on the bus line and a good fit for us.

Dear Roger: Ignore The Blood On The Floor, Ill Be Okay

I have an appointment today that I would much rather not keep, but since the wonderful state of Arizona managed to lose all the supporting records for my umm ahem...history? regarding my issues with knives, razors, large men holding me by the throat, crowds, my tendency to react violently when Im approached in what I perceive to be an aggressive manner by a man, my insomnia and my other fun little glitches, I have to go and meet with a person who will evaluate how well or(not) I have been doing at getting over these issues. They are also going to evaluate my suitability for various career fields. How they do this is by making me dredge up all the fun things that made me the fun person I am today. I get to relive all the wonderful experiences that I had over my life for this person, discuss with them how or how they dont affect me any longer and then I get to walk out of that office, get back on a bus and come home and try to shove all that stuff back into the storage locker in my head that I had it locked in so carefully. It promises to be a fun day.

I sat up quite late last night debating how to even get to the office. Should I take the bus or the train? Should I leave early? Should I take the route that has the most walking? What if I am late? I dont have enough money for the later fare on the train if it runs past 6 hours. I just wish I could blow it off, but if I want to get into a different schooling program, I have to cooperate. I did not sleep well last night, so I am pretty jangled this morning. I have chewed my nails to the nubs and the sides of my fingers are looking like I need to be sure to carry my guitar pick with me so I quit worrying them to death. The kids know I am tense and they are just letting me be this morning so I can stew and think about things. I charged my ipod last night, dug out my 100 Monkeys hoodie,(my erstwhile security blanket) and I have changed clothes 3 times. I dont like talking about some things. I am pretty open about most of it, but these people have a way of getting under my skin and making me admit things that are hard to admit. Its weird for a former cop to admit that they wanted to kill someone. Its weird to say those words and to know that you meant them. Discussing the "Feelings" about things are the worst. I have some far from much of that. I socialize, I talk to men, I enjoy their company in limited and controlled amounts, I get out and go visit different places, but I want to put the past behind me and keep moving forward , but meetings like this keep dragging me back into the morass that was misery and it is showing this morning.