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I can't remember what I've posted and when. So, quickly, my husband Mike just donated a kidney to his son, my step-son, David.

Both guys are out of surgery. Mike is very woozy and a bit nauseous. I'm going to stay here in Ann Arbor for a few more hours and then head back home; I have to work tomorrow. Sylvia is coming tonight and staying with Mike through tomorrow. She'll come back to Lansing on Thursday night and we'll drive together back to Ann Arbor on Friday.

I'm tired and dragged out by the stress of sitting in the OR waiting room, waiting and waiting. Also, I went out to get Mike's bag and my computer from the car and couldn't find the car. Bleh. I'm going out to look for it again, and if I can't find it, I have to go to security and one of their guys will drive me around the parking ramp, looking for it.

Mike looked tired and sore and beautiful. Very beautiful.
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Mike and I, talking about our relationship:

Lisa - I haven't changed that much.

Mike - You've changed a lot. You're much more annoying now.

Lisa - (musing) Concentrated... Distilled ... Evaporated?

Mike - Yes, I think some of your brain has evaporated.
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Me: Tell me something about myself that you love and hate.
Mike: When someone says that you can't have something, you take two.
Me: (throws hands over face) Oh, god!
Mike: (kissing my fingers) My poor baby.
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So, we'll see how today goes.

Yesterday, Mike and I went down to Wisconsin to pick up another Festiva; the frame of my last one rusted out. On the way down, he helped me rough out the plot of the next
story and I came up with a setting for the one after that. When I have those two done, I'll have my first (level? ring? platform?) done, and I'll move up to the next level. Sometimes I think of them as North, South, East, West and sometimes I think of them as Sunrise, Midday, Sunset, Midnight.

It was five hours down and five hours back, plus an hour at the guys' house and a stop for dinner. We didn't get home until after 11pm, and then I had to run and get milk for the shop. We turned in around 12:30, and I couldn't go to sleep. Finanlly fell asleep around 2am.

And got woken at 3:30 am by the police, who said that the drive-through windows of the shop were both wide open. So I got up and dressed and went down there. Nothing looked out of place. I'm pretty darn sure that the windows were barred when I dropped off the milk. Either I'm wrong, or someone climbed very carefully through another window that I'm pretty sure *was* open. And didn't disturb anything. I actually can imagine one of the crew that hangs around my place "breaking in" and stealing an ice cream cone. I dunno.

So the police and I looked around, I closed up and went back home and fell slept from about 4:30am to 5:45am and now I'm here. Yay. Today's schedule is 6:30a-2:30p at the shop, and 3p-9:30p at the home aide job.

edit: Carl says he forgot to close the windows. *yeesh*
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This is true: Daily sex with Mike is good for me.

There is something about having sex with Mike, I don't know if it's Mike or if it's me and Mike or what, but there's something about the actual act of sex that reaches into my head, flattens out the wrinkles, and tacks down all the loose corners. It makes me want to do biochemical analysis of his ejaculate and his spit; it's definitely not the conversation.

Weird. In a not-weird way.
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I was talking to Mike tonight and got this very odd feeling.

He attended a marriage ceremony today -- his friend, ex-gf, housemate, Dawn held the ceremony in her garden. He talked about working with Dawn to get the garden ready, and how beautiful the ceremony was, and he was on his cell phone, describing the garden to me "and there's a bank of roses, hedge roses, all in bloom, a mass of reds with the dark green leaves; there's raspberries ripening, I can smell them...

And I realized, all of the sudden, that I'd probably never be able to give that to him, that kind of simple beauty and tranquility of space and time, that I'd never have it together enough, never have the patience and the willingness to be in the moment to produce the small, individual beauty of a garden. I wanted to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, trying to imagine a future where we'd be in the same place, trying to imagine that he would ever be happy with me; I wanted to tell him that I couldn't be ... that, which is so lovely and gracefully able to spend so much time making beauty in that small, sacred, private place.

Sitting here, right now (long after I should be sleeping), I know that he knows all of this. He knows -- but I wonder if he is maybe pretending that I could be that way (he's told me that he thinks I could do anything that I really want to do, and really, that's rather a scary thing in itself, isn't it?) or if he is really ok with this me (and how ok would I need for him to be?)

Certainly, there's a part of me that pines for that Alt!Lisa, who can feel the moments stream by, like water flowing across her fingers, and just be. Right now, as I type these words, there is that part of me cynically pointing out that I am only playing at all of this, indulging myself, in love with the words, playing with the fey -- that it's all an affectation, and I need to get over my bad self. Right?

I just ... the stars are singing, there is the taste of texture and the smell of sound. How can I turn away from that? There is only so much time to be who I've finally become, and I've started so late.
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I read the WIP to Mike at lunch today and he wept. I wept when I was writing it.

And this is odd, but I am writing very fast (for me); I've got 5533 already and started, what, 2 wks ago?

One problem of the WIP is that there's a large cast of named characters. The beginning setting is a small sailing ship with a crew of 24. I wish I could tell readers to just let the names flow over them.

After lunch, Mike dropped me off at the forge, and I smithed something that looks like a 2-ft long railroad spike with a twist in the middle. I started with a 2-ft bar of 1/2 inch square stock and did three things to it: upset (thickened) one end to 1 inch, tapered the other end to 1/8 inch and then twisted the middle. The upset was the hardest thing to do. And I kinda screwed up the twist because my hands were getting cramps. I shoulda waited, and done the twists later. It really looks alot like this.
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I have no idea how other people negotiate and communicate about their poly relationship issues. This is how Mike and I did it in an IM conversation this morning: )
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Last night, coming home from Len's and buoyed up by his loving, I decided to go and get things over with Keith. He plays pool Wednesday nights and his van was there at Pasquali's, so, taking a deep breath, I parked, scurried across the frozen parking lot and pushed open the door. )
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Well, Mike said that we are un-invited to Dawn and Jerry's. *sigh* Of course, not in those words. It went something like, "Sweetie, Dawn and Jerry are having another guest show up after Christmas, so there won't be enough room for all of us. They really want to meet you, but it's gonna have to be some other time. Maybe in the spring, when they come back from Florida."

I feel... I dunno. Let down, relieved, like Roseann being told that the Huxtables didn't think it'd be all that good an idea.


Nov. 19th, 2006 12:53 am
ljgeoff: (Default)
I should be sleeping. I will take a shower, and then perhaps I'll sleep.

Mike had been living with his kinda-girlfriend, Joyce, but she kicked him out. He came home the weekend before last. When he went back last Monday, he just lived in his car for all of last week- a fact made more interesting because the car is a Ford Festiva. He's trying to buy a mobile home, and he's waiting for the credit stuff to come through.

Last Friday (yesterday), he met someone through PolyMatchmaker and they have charmed each other. I'm relieved that Mike doesn't have to deal with Joyce's stuff, and very relieved that he's met someone who's experienced with poly relationships.

I miss him terribly, and I'm envious of both him and her - that he has an exciting, new relationship, and that she gets to see him much more than I do. He says that she and I have a lot in common, which, if true, will be a first for women that he's gotten involved with. She has written to me and was very sweet and nice.

Today, I received a letter from NMU. After TEN MONTHS, they have finally assessed my credits from U of M; 59 credits transferred. I am amazed. I thought that, they being so old (early '80s) that only six or twelve would transfer. Now I need to talk to my advisor and think a little over what exactly I want to do. If I continue with my current plans, I will have 84 credits by the beginning of next fall. One possibiltiy is to finish my psych BA (I'd need 120 credits for the degree) and get an LPN certificate (about an 18 mo program); the other is to just get the BSN (registered nurse - an additional three years). A third option is to get my LPN, my BA, and then just get the RN certificate later, which would be another 18 mos. The advantages to getting the RN later is that I can work as an LPN while I'm getting my RN, making about twice the money I'm making right now.

Off to take a long, hot shower.


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