Breathe

It's been a while since I posted. My laptop went kaput, and I am wary of blogging from work computers--Big Brother and all that--but now we have an old laptop of Eric's up and running, so I am back! A few highlights from the last few months: getting a short haircut, writing various haikus about No-Leg Nola while pretending to be engaged during work meetings; getting a mite better at successfully teaching 8-year-olds; Eric finishing school (with a 4.0 GPA no less! He would be super embarrassed if he knew I put that on here, but luckily I think he has forgotten all about this blog); falling hard for a weight-lifting class at my new gym that involves blasting pop music, barbells, and various awesome poses--I am pretty much a beefcake now; hosting Thanksgiving for 21 people in our tiny house; having a pretty-much-epic Christmas that included a family kegger, the remake of a Shuggie Otis video (complete with a rather risque and quite sexy yellow rain slicker striptease by yours truly), and something called "restored beans," which is my father's new word for refried beans. It's a long story.

And here we are, about to enter the new year! This year I am setting aside the resolutions (although I really do need to drink more water) in place of a gentle reminder, an imaginary post-it-note-to-self, if you will; it's really the one word I want to keep floating around in my brain at all times: breathe. My job status is still up in the air, we are not sure where and when Eric will find the apprenticeship he needs, and as far as home improvements go, we'll just need to set our grand ideas aside for the time being.

Even so, there are a few things that remain certain, and for which I am eternally grateful: my husband is a gem of a man (a diamond in the rough, but a gem indeed), my family rocks; I am blessed with two feline friends and one little fish who never cease to calm and delight me; I have a close circle of girlfriends who are always there for me, whether I need a stiff vodka cocktail, advice on the tightness of my new jeans, or just a shoulder to cry on; and our little house remains cozy in the winter and cool in the summer, and gives us a bounty of roses, apples, and plums once the sun appears. These are the constants in my life, and with that knowledge I am confident that in the new year I will be able to remind myself to breathe.

And if I don't, please bring me a vodka and soda with a lemon wedge immediately.