Sorry I haven't been around much. Other things going on. Sometimes I wonder how much MORE I could get done if I didn't spend so much time here on the computer.
I check blogs (though my blog-field has narrowed quite a bit lately), and I check in on FaceBook regularly which is reconnecting me to some people from my past.
I also think I'm not as much fun as I once was (though I might be kidding myself about that "once was" as well). I ruminate a lot. I'm pretty busy doing pretty mundane things like cleaning and parenting and working. Even my goals for myself are pretty mundane - lose this weight, get healthy, blah, blah, blah.
Blah is a pretty good word to describe me these days.
As always, there are projects being discussed and contemplated. I'm hoping to finish the kitchen project at Mom's by Spring Break. I'd like to start my own kitchen project soon (of course that takes money, so who knows?). There is the music project with my husband, but so far, we're all talk. He's got a little action going, but nothing to really show me yet.
And I never was much of a party girl. I don't smoke dope (puts me to sleep), or drink (because I hate the feel of my face sliding down my neck after half a glass of something), or even smoke cigarettes anymore. Mostly I don't do those things because I don't like how they make me feel, but also because they can kill you after a while and I have a few reasons to want to live. They're much more important to me that going out to party. Besides, you really don't want to see me dance.
I suppose I'm not much fun. But I'll take it because even though I am duller than dishwater, I'm pretty happy too.
I have an aquaintance. She's always asking me if I'm having fun - and I always say yes. But in the back of my mind, I know that MY idea of fun is nothing like hers. Recently divorced, she's hitting the bar scene and the bottle pretty hard. She's relishing the "cougar" status she's attained. And doesn't really have much time for anyone who isn't having "fun" the way she is. But when I look at her, I don't see "fun." I see desperation. A fear of missing out on all the things she might have done when she was young, only now she's not young. She's in her late forties and the lines are getting deeper, the hair grayer underneath the youthful dye. She never had kids or really seemed to be attached to anything.
Maybe I'm not as much fun as I think I used to be, but I'm happy. And my family is happy. And that's really what fun looks like to me these days.