Restaurant Week

Someone stop me...or schedule me 4 hours per day in the gym.

It's Restaurant Week in DC, and you know I'm celebrating that. Kevin and I hit an amazing lunch at an Indian restaurant plus met some friends at a stuffy DC steakhouse on Saturday for amazing bargain three-course meals. It's such a great chance to try all the expensive, pretentious DC restaurants we don't normally frequent.

Unfortunately, when you add a couple of glasses of wine and some gin-and-tonics, it's really not that much of a bargain...

BUT STILL...

It's awesome. And I just found out a few restaurants are extending for another week...and, tomorrow a friend and I were going to have lunch anyway, so why not the full, three-course lunch?

But get this...I asked the "restaurant people" I work with where we should go and they totally scoffed it.

"Amateur Week," David said.

"It's for the hoards and you don't get the full restaurant experience," Dustin said.

Can you believe that...scoffing Restaurant Week? The greatest idea this city has had since they decided to finish the Washington Monument?

The "full restaurant" experience? Please. The one that costs $300? Thanks, I'll take my twice-a-year, low-end restaurant experience with the hoards for a third of that...thank you very much.

I've been waited on before...it can only get so good.

Beyond the Pale

Recently I was working with a soft-spoken Christian co-worker on a Saturday and her brand-new husband came in. It was very slow, so the three of us got to chatting.

What a perfect, fresh-faced, quiet Christian couple they are. I had to turn the music down to hear him, he was so humble and careful with his words and I'm always having to repeat what she says to customers, they never hear her.

We were talking about church and I gave a very cursory explanation about why I don’t do church anymore. It always does get me a little shaky, talking to Christians about why I no longer am one, because I know they aren’t going to get it. I wouldn't have a few years ago either.

They gently agreed that many of my points were valid, but then said all the things I would have said, a few years ago, about how it isn’t about works and how you can’t do it alone and how I must not be viewing it right.

Basically they didn’t hear a thing I said.

I’m used to it, but it’s a little hard to take--being outside the pale now with so many people I know. I remember explaining it to my brother--we were outside around a fire for hours discussing it. I was trying to keep my voice from shaking, as I tried over and over to get him to understand me. He did not.

The shaky feeling comes from knowing they'll never get it, stepping out there and explaining it anyway, and knowing where I'll be at the end in their minds--beyond the pale.

And, because I used to be in it, I know that it’s worse that I was so involved and then left, instead of just being a life-long, full-on heathen--I used to be able to quote the scripture that supposedly says so. And I know my co-worker and her man have taken me to their small group as a prayer request. I know they are looking for opportunities to bring up the services they provide over there at the church, the ones that would meet my “needs,” since now I've admitted I have some.

I guess sometimes I wish I could go back, when it all feels so difficult and unclear out here, and it used to be so easy to view life through that lens--especially when I'm messing up. I used to be able to confess, get forgiven and start building a record of good behavior to make myself feel better. Now I just have to feel the reality of my weakness.

But I don't really want to go back. Couldn't live with their mindset anymore. I see them working pretty hard at doing the "right things." They're heavily involved in church, going to events they don’t really want to, going to Bible Studies, trying to get people to progress, trying to make themselves better people and trying to be super-nice to everyone in a really sincere way. I bet when they feel they've messed up they go through a whole cycle of guilt and condemnation before swearing off sin for awhile.

I don't miss any of that.

Truthfully, it pains me. They think I just don’t see it how it is because of my experience and I think they just haven’t come to the end of it yet, and probably never will. We’ll never truly meet.

If we could talk about things of God, life, love and philosophy apart from Christianity, I bet we’d have some amazing discussions and not even realize we are far apart, if we even are. But the parameters of Christianity, the language I know all too well, the buzz words, the stuff I know they’re really saying, my gut reaction to it all--all these things prevent it.

It’s a shame really, when Christianity comes between people.

Found It--II

So I yelled at Dustin about my key.

He says he didn't move it, but please, it's been months...like he's going to remember.

I told him he was ruining my look because now I have to keep my phone and my keys in my pockets while at work and he said,

"I know. You look like a lesbian now."

Too Much

I always say I don't mind being alone, and most of the time I don't. But sometimes I get the feeling I want someone else's take on things I'm dealing with, things people don't just talk about in easy conversation.

I spend a lot of time and effort being low-maintenance to people in my circle. I'll share my bunk with them, but usually it's after the fact, if we happen to be talking about real stuff. I typically won't pick up my phone and call a friend when I'm really feeling the need. I still have that old "you gotta be low-maintenance" attitude.

So, I'm very aware--and recently it struck me again--that even my best friends and loved ones shouldn't have to deal with all of me and all my bunk--and, truthfully, they probably don't really want to. Even though I know this, I'm shocked every time this realization hits me in the face--Remember, I was raised to think I was "the shit." My bunk is damn interesting and I am super-deep and fascinating when I'm working on my problems...

Yeah, well, maybe not.

I think it may be a part of growing-up to realize that all my shit...all my SELF...all my bunk, well, maybe it's too much for anyone. No one wants to hear it all, no one wants to have to deal with too much of me. It crushed me the first time I saw it, when I realized even my own parents were worn out listening to me. Now I just have to be reminded every so often that's the way it works, and I'll quit wearing on my people, buck up and deal.

(In fact, it's surprising you're still reading this--Feel free to quit anytime.)

That's why now, when I feel alone, I know I'm actually growing up. I have people who love me and are absolutely there for me, but I've learned I have to have that lonely feeling, I have to deal with my bunk, alone, in my own way, if I'm going to progress and develop my soul.

I don't get to have someone understand all the ins and outs of my thoughts. I often am tempted to connect with a friend instead of deal with my self--Wouldn't it be so much easier to have people and friends to deal along with me? I used to think this is what Jesus was supposed to do for me...make me healthy and okay, never needy and absolutely fine on my own. With him, wasn't I supposed to never be alone?

Turns out it works a little differently than I thought, and, I might be a little too much to handle.

That's okay. I understand the deal, and I absolutely know how to do low-maintenance.

Measured Hope

I have a friend lying over in Bethesda Naval Hospital who is surrounded by people who will be ecstatic if he survives today...If today, in his fight for life, he doesn’t lose ground.

In recent days they’ve been hoping for more than that. They've been hoping to see him open his eyes, to see recognition dawn on him. They've been longing to see him smile one more time. Wouldn't it be something to hear him laugh again?

Hopes can soar if we let them, but when we're scared and desperate, we don't dare.

Right about now, he's undergoing brain surgery.

So today, they’ll hope for a lot less, and they'll be so thankful if they get it.

Today they just want his heart to keep beating...
They want his chest to continue to rise and fall...
They want all the numbers on the monitors to stay in a range he can live with.
That’s all they’ll ask for, all they’ll hope for, all they'll look for.

After today, when tomorrow comes, they just might allow themselves to hope for a tiny bit more...but not too much...we don't dare hope for too much...let's not even think about tomorrow yet.

Why do we think it works this way?

Are we all just walking around hedging our bets? Cutting deals?

It sure feels like we are....

His daddy told me he'd switch places with him if only he could...anything to trade to see his boy up and healthy again. Actually anyone who knows my friend would pitch in for that....

It's gotta work differently than we think it does, than we act like it does. There's got to be something more to it, more of a reason, more of a purpose, more of a plan.

Still, even with my penchant for hope, I'll be ecstatic today to hear he's still in the fight.

Hope

Some people have to be reminded to keep hope alive, reach for it out of the mire, believe it’s there even when they can’t see it...

Not me.

I’m a sucker for it, an idiot over it and will bite at the first hint of it.

I am addicted to hope, and I search for it everywhere. I assume there will always be a big fat bunch of hope around. When it gets thin and scarce I get a little edgy and start scrounging for more, demanding for it, begging for it...

When I finally give up (if I every really do), and convince myself I can live without it I’ll see some tiny evidence that there's still some reason to hope and I’ll lunge...

I don’t even wait for it to actually show itself...a shadow is good enough to keep me going....

Problem is, I'll hold on in spite of all evidence to the contrary. It can be a crushing adjustment when I have to deal with reality.

Maybe it's because (as my husband recently reminded me when talking about how perhaps I was expecting too much at work), I was raised to think I was, in his words, "the shit." So since I'm "the shit", won't life the hell work out for me?

Well, a girl can always hope.

Found It

Last night I found something I lost months ago. What a great feeling.

We have only two keys to our car. One is an electronic clicker, and one is just an old-school, stick-in-the-lock key that doesn't even open the trunk. We keep them in a dish by the front door, so whoever is using the car can have their pick. If I'm driving somewhere to go for a run, I will often take the old-school one. It's smaller and will fit in my glove or tied in my shoelaces. Otherwise, who wouldn't want to take the clicker?

I think it was in October or November, that I misplaced the clicker key. I knew it was me, but I didn't feel it was really lost. It seemed like I went somewhere, realized I had both keys and stowed the clicker somewhere safe, maybe in a bag or pocket...I knew I hadn't dropped it or really lost it. Surely it would turn up.

I always have that attitude. My husband will lose something and say, "Chances are slim-to-none we'll ever see it again." I always say, "I bet it'll turn up", and I'm usually right. I especially felt that this time, I really felt I had put it in a responsible place...

Over the months we've had to use the old-school key, and it's been a pain. I searched every pocket, bag and the inside of the car thoroughly, still feeling like it wasn't really lost. My husband has gotten irritated with me about it a couple of times...especially when we drove the car to NYC, with only one key, and once when I couldn't produce it for a few minutes.

I decided yesterday to order him a new one, to the tune of around $300, and give up hope. On my way out the door to work he asked me where something else was I was responsible for, and I couldn't find it either. It reminded me of the lost key, and I was tired of feeling bad about it. I drove to work vowing to get the new key and to be more detail-oriented instead of driving my man crazy...

We had a long night at the wine bar. It started out really slow--only a few regulars. Then a friend sent a text asking if I was working, said he was on his way...so I had him to chat with awhile, then suddenly we got very busy. I almost recruited him to open a couple bottles for me, and I know I gave him the worst service of anyone...but that's what we do to the ones we love, right? Ask them to suck it up when it gets tough on us?

Anyway, I had to kick people out after 10pm (we close at 9), and finish cleaning up. The owner was at a party across the street, so I was alone and searching through a basket of wine stoppers we use to save the open bottles. We'd opened so many bottles we were one short, so I thought I'd really search through the whole basket before asking the owner where to find more. (He always finds stuff in plain sight I can't seem to see, and I'm tired of THAT feeling as well...) As I got to the bottom of the basket I saw it. The car key.

For a second I was too afraid to hope that it could really be ours, but sure enough, it was. Unbelievable. It had been there all these months. Not out where someone could see it, or claim it, but in the bottom of a basket of corks and stoppers.

Even in my incredible elation I knew who to blame...

Dustin. The Saturday night bartender. He is so getting an earful from me...not that that is unusual...

First of all, I absolutely love Dustin, he is funny as hell, great at his job and reminds me of my beloved Greggy. We overlap for about an hour every Saturday. I open the coffee shop early, then he comes in to set up for the wine bar in the afternoon. It's usually a pretty busy time, we still have my coffee customers who want to zone out and take their time over the paper, and there are always a couple people trying to get a glass of wine early.

Typically Dustin blazes in there late, with his nervous energy, rushing around trying to set up candles and menus. He is anxious to get his tipping wine customers settled and clear the coffee drinkers the hell out of there. He gets especially irritated when people have the audacity to buy a cupcake next door, then bring it in and eat it with a cup of coffee.

Apparently he had to clean up the outside tables of icing and crumbs once and claimed there was a Starbucks cup there too, that the people hadn't bought anything from us, just used our tables. He was an absolute Diva about it, threw a fit so that the owner went next door and caused trouble, and put up a sign saying not to bring in outside food. If people bring in cupcakes, we're supposed to say something and blame some health department rule.

Whatever. People absolutely love our coffee with a cupcake and it doesn't bother me. I overlook it, but I know I'm going to have to run interference with Dustin should he see this act when he comes in.

We argue about it constantly...he says it's like bringing McDonald's into a nice restaurant...I say it's not the same thing at all and it's not hurting anyone...he says I'm wasting my work-energy having to clean up crumbs and icing...I say I'm here to serve customers, who cares...he says I'll give away anything for free, that I might as well be out on the sidewalk inviting cupcake carriers in...He says I'm from California, too laid-back and all about "free love" and who knows what else...I say he's damn right...He says, "It's like you're saying, 'I'm Earthynia--feel free to bring in your cupcakes...It's free, like the earth, water, air and your spirit.'"

(They do think I'm a California wacko...I suppose it's true, next to them...people are so worked up here. Why do they call me Earthynia? Not really sure.)

The truth is Dustin is a restaurant person, and a Diva. All the restaurant people are so over this cupcake craze, they think it's a fad, and they go around saying the cupcakes aren't even good. I think the whole thing makes us look like we think we're the precious, fancy wine bar that's above everyone else. It's always better to compliment others and be easy-going, we should just roll with it a little and be gracious.

Anyway, all this to say when he comes in he bustles about all perturbed, moving everything and everyone out of his way so he can set up, and he MOVES MY STUFF. Last week I realized it--"Dustin, where is my cell phone and checkbook?" They were on a top shelf practically out of reach. I would have never seen them.

So, months ago, while I was trying to leave work and get out of the Diva's way, he put that key in the basket of corks and stoppers...It's lucky I ever found it, and it was ONLY because the other bartender quit and I'm dealing with the wine now... ONLY because we were as busy as we were and opened so many bottles...ONLY because I stayed late while the owner was across the street at a party....

Thank heaven, I was right all along and it turned up. And, bonus, it wasn't entirely my fault. Whew. Apparently I did have both keys that day, and did put one in a safe place behind the bar.

It does seem that in my life things finally change when I'm forced to give up on them, let loose of them, quit fighting for them and let them be what they are. Only then, and when all the stars align, the key finally turns up.

I wonder if there's some kind of universal law about that?

Who Knew?

Who knew I could still be this jazzed to be living the lifestyle I have built for myself here?

I feel pretty great about my life right now, I’m kind of amazed because I'm not fulfilling any dream or accomplishing anything. I’m NOT in the perfect job feeling my perfect passion and role in life, I'm just living a small, normal everyday life. I’m actually surprised that the vision I got when we pulled into town is still working for me and feeling so right. The other night I got a huge lift riding home on my bike, reflecting on my day of writing, working-out and a full shift on my feet...

I’m still not making much at the coffee/wine bar, but the Thursday night bartender quit so I’m getting more experience talking wine, pouring wine, chatting with customers and almost being a bartender…plus I’m making more in tips, so that’s a bonus. Regardless, I do my three-plus shifts a week over there and I work hard and stay engaged and time usually flies by. I don’t know why I like it so much...maybe it's because I’m so engaged with people and I'm learning about wine, business and my adopted community. Or maybe it's because the work there is so clear and doable, and I see that I have an effect…

Also, I’m in a New Year’s boom with my Pilates sessions…I have a bunch more people and classes, and am suddenly bringing in respectable cash, which makes me feel good (see "Money" below). I’m enjoying it right now as all the new people are so excited and motivated, and, again, I am having an effect…

Who knew that these jobs would actually "buy" me this writing time here each morning? It is such a great feeling, one I wasn't expecting. Call me dysfunctional, but I think if I wasn’t working these jobs, I could not sit here for 2-5 hours each morning spending this time on myself…wouldn't happen. I would always be thinking I needed to be producing here to show it was worth something, or I would be needing to get some things done around the house or our lives since I wasn't producing anything.... But somehow, because I work actual hours somewhere else, and earn actual cash, I feel I am earning this time. And whether I procrastinate, get distracted, just journal or actually get some writing projects accomplished, this time is gold for me. It’s absolutely the place where I am growing, changing, dealing and getting centered (or at least working at it) for the rest of my day.

I’ve learned that at least--I must have time--quiet, alone time, to live bigger and better. I’ve always felt it and have taken it when I was frazzled and feeling the need--in fact,I used to do it every day just to try to get right with God. But now, to come here every day, regardless, and sit and at least try to engage with God, self, life, love, ambition, marriage and relationships is so what I need to do to move forward in life. I don’t even care what, if anything, comes of it, writing-wise…I really don’t. The feeling I have walking away from this desk every day is more than enough.

Of course it doesn’t feel this good much of the time…often it’s like pulling teeth to get me to sit and focus, and other times it’s like watching paint dry, and sometimes I blog about nothing just for the sake of keeping in it (kind of like yesterday and today actually...). It’s very much like going to yoga class—it’s hard to get there, it’s mostly un-enjoyable, but I know the strengthening and stretching is good for me, if painful. It often brings me close to tears...but walking out of there I always feel a little relieved, open and unbound.

Just a Day

Today should be good, just regular life. I'm expecting no big highs, but also, hopefully, no incredibly sad lows....

This morning I built a fire since we were both going to be around awhile--and because it was snowing. Snow always make it seem like it’s worth building a fire. Kevin made breakfast and I did some journaling.

Now I'm squeezing in a little writing time, but I’m about to go walk that little dog of mine…I should run her really, but we’ll see--I’ve slacked a little this week working out…Then I’ll have to make a quick turn to get to work.

It’ll just be me and owner today I think, tidying up and chatting with customers and each other, shelving wine and filling the coffee bins. We’ll crank the music a little if it’s slow. I like chatting with him, I always learn a little something. He has such a great vision for the place, he always has new ideas. It takes a little work to understand him though, we don't really speak the same language or have the same sense of humor.

I need to make a quick sandwich or something to take in and sneak bites of in the kitchen. Wouldn’t want to take a lunch break or anything….

I don’t think I’ll bike there, even though it's sunny now, it could be slippery…plus my brakes have frozen up I think! I only know they aren't working too well.

I’ll hit the library on the way home…I'm going to read “Life of Pi” again. I suggested to the girls I work with on Saturday mornings that we do some reading and have discussions when we’re slow. We’re all three masters-degree educated, you'd think we could bring a little something to the table in discussion while we're working in a damn coffee shop. They were all for it. I'll probably end up checking out about 10 other books as well. Always happens.

I’ll enjoy walking the dog again when I get home...It gets me outdoors and thinking and breathing after being inside all day.

I have two Pilates sessions tonight. And yes, it’s still on apparently, the New Year’s resolution madness at the gym--I am busy with lots of new people. Usually I say people drop out by Superbowl Sunday, but not when you spend a bunch of cash on Pilates sessions apparently…

Dinner, will be late, at least after 8:30…I should have some kind of plan, maybe I’ll pull something out of the freezer before I leave, or maybe my man will put something together when he gets home. Whatever it is it'll be warm and good and I might have a glass or two of wine with it. I'll sit awhile, then I'll probably have to spin the block with the dog late, which I probably won't enjoy, (only because it will be freezing but I won't feel like bundling adequately), then I might do some reading before we all fall into bed.

To me, that's a good day.

Yesterday

Yesterday I woke up working on life, and how to connect with it, trying to figure it out, trying to acknowledge my own feelings and not cover them up--acknowledging the ache, pain, disappointment and the joy….accepting it all...it was hard, but it was real, and I was moving forward....then, after awhile, I vented and raged about life, how it doesn't work how it should…then I was exhausted and locked up, like I was in need of a big fat crying session, which I didn’t want…and I found I was suddenly fading and about to nap…but I got a call and heard some incredibly sad news about a friend--incredibly sad…and I found myself clutching at the pain and breathlessness in my chest, trying to resist it….then I felt pity and compassion, and the presence of that hard, dark dysfunction my friend must have been wrestling with, and I hated it…and I felt how it is too much to ask some people to deal with it, how they are no match for it….and I thought how I need to know this and be compassionate and love more and be prepared to freaking kick it in the teeth when I see it, because I'm the type that can, and not let it win…yet, sometimes, there’s not a damn thing I can do about it, and I fearfully have to let it be, hoping it will run off when the sun comes up…that the landscape will look at least somewhat as it before the darkness….then, surprisingly, after some time went by, and I had to think about other things, and fulfill obligations, something struck me funny and I ended up laughing….I was laughing and laughing, and for a few minutes I couldn’t stop, I had to let it out of my system….then I was good, then I was just me….then I was just being, living, and not working on anything…and I was satisfied that I had felt it all, all the day had for me.

Snowflakes

Really...No two are alike...?

In the entire history of the world, every snowflake that's ever fallen from every snowstorm or flurry is different from every other one?

I'm wondering if anyone ever checked more than just a few.

Where did we get this? Science class, wasn't it?

No way that's science...that's faith.

And why can't anything ever be both?

Today

Today I know better.
Today should be great.
Today I don’t have to be anywhere.
Today it is not too cold.
Today is sunny and beautiful.
Today I get to decide almost everything.

Today I should feel free, good and alive…

But...

Today I know better.
Today I feel wistful, wanting.
Today there’s an ache in my chest.
Today I am fearfully inadequate to make my way through the dysfunction and delusion.
Today I’m dragging my feet.

Today I just want to stay here, on the fringe of life and hole-up.

But...

Today I know better.
Today I’ll take a step or two--
Today I’ll thrown down a little with life.
Today I'll write a little something.
Today I'll let tasks and busyness carry me.
Today the view will change and the ache will ease.

Today I will try not to expect too much.