Currently

  In blogging you make so many grand plans.

"I'm going to post everyday! *and then reality sets in* "I'm going to post every other day!"

And then you don't.

"I'm going to revamp it and make the layout so aesthetically pleasing it will look like an actual legit blog!"

And then you don't.

"I'm going to network more with other bloggers and get to know the community!"

And then you don't.

I haven't. For awhile. And that's life, there are ebbs and flows and unfortunately I found myself in an ebb. Creatively, I wasn't feeling it. Time-wise, I wasn't feeling it. And frankly when you're a tiny blog in a vast blogging ocean sometimes you think "what's the point?"

But I've been blogging in some form or another since I was fifteen and it's become such a part of me that I'll never completely let it go, even when it feels as though I am due to inactivity. Sometimes you have to remind yourself that just because it isn't on the page or screen doesn't mean it's left you.

Anyway, these Currently posts have been circulating the blog world like mad and I actually like them. It's good way to get little snippets of life out there and it seems manageable so I think I'll try it.

Currently-

Watching- Lots of horror movies and American Horror Story. It's the time of year that favorites scary movie junkies and I love it. It would seem as though Jack got my genes in that realm as he has been asking me to watch "scary movies" all the time. I'm excited to get to share in this more in the future. Our Halloween's are going to be awesome.

Reading- The Rolling Stone. My roommate has a subscription and I've been thumbing through them when new ones come in. I forgot how much I love to read magazine articles. I used to want to write a column or be a journalist for a music magazine and reading articles in the Stone reminds me to keep working on writing no matter what I am writing for. It also reminded me that I haven't watched Almost Famous in awhile which I may remedy today.

Thinking about- Everything. There is absolutely no time in my life to be bored. I'm either working, thinking of the future and the process I must go through to make it a reality, and trying to stay present enough to enjoy actually going through the process. Things like future careers, finding and making a home for the three of us, finances, co-parenting Jack in harmony, taking better care of myself- these all weigh on my mind most waking hours. In between the heavy I think about how excited about Fall I am and all the activities I want to do because of it, revamping my closet, and how much a vacation sounds like just what the doctor ordered.

Loving- These two. We have been finding a happy place in bedtime stories (I've been trying to work with Jack more on reading and writing with kindergarten right around the corner. Holyshitballswhatthefuckhappenedtomybaby?!??!) lately. Jack really enjoys the ritual of it and it's just one of those things that brings a pause to the day and allows you to enjoy being close to the people you love. My favorite so far has been Frankenstein Makes A Sandwich. It's hilarious and I actually just discovered the author, Adam Rex, lives in Tucson. So obviously I must recommend it for its extreme awesomeness.

Listening to- The Walkmen.

Making me happy- All of the above. Oh, and coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.


Here's to finding the flow to the ebb.

-Amanda

   We spent our six monthiversary in a way wholly our own- drinking a couple cocktails while doing the New York Times crossword puzzle in the back of the Tucson Weekly as our friends called us disgusting due to the excessive amounts of affection we generally bestow on one another.

We are not one year in, or ten years in. Not twenty-five or fifty. But we don't care. We celebrate.

We celebrate because both of us know how the world is and how seemingly impossible it felt before.
We celebrate because neither of us has ever smiled so genuinely.
We celebrate because the future is suddenly worth celebrating.

And we keep on celebrating.

                                             These two people will beat the everloving shit out of you on Scene It. 




To many more, my dear.

Words like candy

I have been, for some inexplicable reason, compiling a list of my favorite words. What are yours?

An Ever-Expanding List

melancholy

glockenspiel

perturbed

nuance

serendipitous

juggernaut

argonaut (apparently I have a thing for "-nauts")

banjo 

turpentine

lupine

chartreuse

ruminate

eviscerate

masticate

bereft

haphazard

maudlin

chasm

subtle

wane

esoteric

generator

acquiesce, also followed by...

dissent 

suspend

livid

jubilant

schedule

smitten

Bisbee

  Since Zack and I started dating, Bisbee has been our reprieve from the Tucson Blues (sometimes you just have to get out of town for a day). A mere hour from Tucson, we find weather at least ten degrees cooler (it's still in the nineties in Tucson), delicious food and spirits and a relaxed atmosphere that keeps us coming back as often as we can. I'm sure the copper hued town will be a frequent guest on this blog, as I hold it near and dear to my heart.

More is more

 I have decided I need more of the following-

More tattoos.
More tights.
More coffee.
More nights spent outside.
More cooking in the kitchen, kissing in between measuring out spices and dusting crumbs off of countertops.
More peach lemonade before it cools down and the climate changes my taste buds again.
More morning sunlight and open windows.
More rolling over because it's too hot and then finding each other while still asleep because it's us.
More us.
More walks.
More drives out to our favorite copper hued town accompanied by music and talks of nothing and everything.
More talks.
Of hope.
Of the future.
Of children.
Of houses turned into homes.
Of old age.

More of that.

Sunday Funday?

    It's been a hard couple of days. Zack is out of town, Greg (Jack's father) and I have been having some tension, I came down with a sinus infection, finances are tight and I got less than what I would have liked on a test (likely due to all the aforementioned stress). All within about 48 hours of each other. Needless to say, when I got home Saturday afternoon I was ready for a cocktail, but given the being sick thing, I think I may have to wait until next week.
  Luckily, I have the Worlds Greatest Roomates who got pizza, made me tea and doled out the appropriate meds for my head and congestion, and made pancakes for Jack and I in the morning. My nose won't stop running but at least my heart is starting to feel better. Thank god for some people.
  I am going to cuddle Jack, watch movies and kiss Zack when he gets home tonight.

May you all have a beautiful Sunday.

In two

    I had a bit of a meltdown yesterday. After Jack was dropped off, after the shoes were removed and snacks were had, after the crayons were dumped on the floor and the cars and helicopters were found- I had a meltdown. It was small but it hurt the way some realizations that manage to find the bruises in your heart that remain just below the surface, unseen to the human eye, hurt. Jack is a child of divorce.

    Jack is a child who sees one parent and not the other, some times and other times. He is growing in an environment that was once demolished and is being reconstructed. And he is beautiful. And smart. And intuitive and kind. And I only see him half of the time. When I find a new characteristic, when a new mannerism emerges that wasn't there before, that I wasn't present for when it was discovered, I can't help but feel defeated at times. At time. Time, It, who is incredibly unforgiving.

   Watching your child grow up is bittersweet in and of itself. Cutting that time in half is a pill that is harder to swallow. Yesterday that pill got caught in my throat, again.

   I don't want him to be lonely. I don't want him to think that because I'm not there physically sometimes, that I care less.

 I miss him before he leaves up until he comes back. Depending on the serotonin levels in my brain I either leave his toys out to remind myself that he's coming back to pick them up again, or I put them away immediately so that I don't come across them in moments of melancholy. In the back of my head there is this reoccurring thought, or maybe plea, that One Day things will change. One Day I'll wake up  in the same house with him there, every day. One Day things will be Normal again.

In the meantime I try and soak up the time he's here. I stare at him more when he isn't looking, committing every hair and freckle to memory before it changes again. I drink up the "moms" that come out of his mouth like it's a protein my soul is deprived of. And when he leaves I put my sails back up and tread water until that lighthouse turns back on again, when crayons are dumped on the floor and stories are read at bedtime.