Losing and finding my voice

Gahkkk! I’ve been trying to write this all week, but had been getting sick and lacking energy. Last night it crossed over from ‘getting’ to ‘being’; I was sure it was bronchitis, which I’ve been getting since I was three. Today the doctor told me that it is not bronchitis; it is a sinus infection that, through the magic of nasal drip, made my lungs feel like crap. They are clear, but it seems I have a touch of asthma. So everything burns; by everything I mean, breathing and coughing and talking and being awake. I have antibiotics and a freaking inhaler and something for the cough and something for the nose. And I am missing a wedding tomorrow and had to cancel a singing engagement. Like, a paying gig. Great, great times, but at least it’s not the flu.

But enough about that.

Last weekend I took a voiceover workshop with a guy named Bill Holmes.

phantom limb at three months

I miss Joe and it aggravates me.

I have not seen him in three months. Three months! That’s not when we ended it, but even THAT was nearly two months ago.

I still think of things I want to tell him about, show him, have him taste, know he would enjoy.

I still want to ‘add to the list’ of things for us to do together, or for one of us to do for the other.

He is still more in my head than he should be. Probably than he ever should have been.

Every time I grow or change or add, I want to share it with him. And I could; he’s available for that if I just want to pick up the phone… but it’s not his role. Probably never was.

He hasn’t seen me since I started wearing fingernail polish. He never saw my new phone. He hasn’t heard the song I wrote about him. I have a medical thing I want to discuss with him. He rearranged his living space; we had both wanted me to see it.

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Even naps deserve breaktime

Home sick today.

Still need to write about my voiceover workshop last weekend. It was really great.

Oh and Thursday night I went to a full moon event at CoSM, finally.  Good times.

And there was lots of good Benjamin time. He is fun.

But yeah, today I feel like ass.

Hell stayed tight

I haven’t been writing that much about life in the city. I mean fine, okay, I haven’t been writing that much in here overall. Anyway I’ve now been working here for nearly seven months. And I really, really enjoy this city.

Last night we got a fuck of a snowstorm. I woke up this morning, looked outside, and my first thought was absolutely I don’t have to go in today, right?But I caught myself choosing the lazy kid’s default, and reworked it. They weren’t saying horrible things about the buses. So I got myself ready and took a slightly earlier bus. The commute was incredible. The worst part was going down the as yet unshoveled stairs of my aparment building. But I live right off a major highway, and the roads were fine. The bus was on time. Less people worked because of the storm, so it wasn’t as crowded, and there were less interim stops along the way.

I got to my office neighborhood really early, and did a bit of walking around as I gathered some breakfast (Dunkin Donuts coffee but no way I’m eating their food. This is my ideal when I have the time.)

Someone whose feelings you spare

Nothing.

I have nothing.

Earlier I wanted to write about how great I felt. I am back on the yoga track… this morning I did half an hour on my own, and felt wonderful. Really wonderful. Like, in a great mood for most of the day, and it could be traced back to the yoga.

Great night last night, in several arenas. Up early. Productive around the house. Yoga. Eeeasy commute. Good day at work.

And on my way home, I was reflecting on the good.

And I noticed that good-mood productive Roberta had finally not thought much about Joe today. For like, the first time. And how good that felt.

Then this one thing came into the mix once I got in the door. One bit of unpleasantry. A slight and fine mess I’ve kind of got myself into–an uncomfortable thing with a man I don’t want. Nothing tragic, but it’s a damper.

And then PBS decided (well, they probably decided before tonight) to air the recent (current?) Broadway production of Company. I’m still watching it. It is so wonderful. I am blown away by how good it is. Beautiful.

But it’s not exactly uplifting, if you’re slightly below lift level.Of course, a little ways into the show Joe texts me about the eclipse. I had missed the memo. Went outside for a bit, twice. A. Mazing.

And hearing from Joe, even just like that. Of course it penetrates. Didn’t so much lighten the load.

It’s why people cut each other off. And I just can’t. Won’t. I can tough out some penetration. It’s not like I’ll cry myself to sleep. Not in any way like that.

I’m going to bed in a few. Tomorrow, let’s start again with the yoga. That seems to be a good plan.

still trying to work out the casual-ish sex thing.

(Because it’s never casual. It either means something, or it’s a mistake.)

There’s a vulnerability. I have moments, sometimes, when I retreat. Where I feel scared and alone.

It is in those moments that it matters, utterly, that I am in the arms of someone with whom I have love and trust.

I need to remember this. This is the scenario I need to remember in making the choice about whether or not I want to be with someone.

Jill Sobule makes me happy.

Always. Go see for yourself and get happy too.

My mind goes sleepwalking

I don’t want to just write in here when I’m feeling sad. And I’m not super sad. But I have definitely lost a bit of steam the last few weeks. I think it’s the yoga. I haven’t been going to classes or practicing. I will begin again tomorrow with a new class that Jyoti is teaching, and go on Sunday and possibly on Monday (I have off) as well. That should help me feel great again.

And I miss Joe. I fucking miss Joe. But also there has been a lot of strange guy activity in my life lately. All of it frustrating or disappointing or just peculiar. And so it’s natural that I default to Joe. My mind just rests there after being guy-spun.

There have been some strange encounters with some guys who are totally into me, but the guys are wrong wrong wrong; kind of awful. And I have been ambivalent and mix-signaly ’cause the attention feels good; I attempt to ignore the wrong wrong wrong, but ultimately unable to ignore the awful. And then there have been some new attractions. And in one case (no, in two cases) the attraction seems mutual but it doesn’t get to be more because they (the ‘he’ of the equation) are not available. And one more. A crush, where he definitely has a girlfriend and I can’t tell if he’s even slightly interested or not but it’s irrelevant because there is a girlfriend but he has these giant blue eyes, as big as Hugh Laurie’s…

(and one bland date in between)…

(and a couple of rock stars)…

And when I’m fluttering over someone, I don’t think of Joe, but once I fall from the fluttershelf, I miss him.

And did I mention yesterday was St. Valentine’s Day? Really it didn’t get to me too much, but yeah, t’s a marker. I swear it’s a much more vibrant holiday to those who are single. Hugh Eyes was telling me how he doesn’t really participate. I told him that’s a luxury of those who are coupled, to just choose to pass on the whole thing. Us single folk don’t have a choice. He conceded the point. And yet at no point during this conversation did he decide to break up with his girlfriend to be my Valentine.

I signed up today for another voiceover workshop; this one with a focus on commercials. I’m just back in a rut. And the ruts get dangerous, because I don’t want to be in the same place six months from now. I am doing well at work and enjoying my relationship with this job, but even if I manage to move up at this place, that will not be enough. I need to find the other roads that lead me forward, and travel them. So I’m happy I’m taking this workshop next weekend, even though it’s a lot of money and I’m not quite caught up on my bills yet since my bout with unemployment.

The Mad Men blog is going well and keeping me excited.

I am recycling smarter and getting greener every day.

I am taking a lot of vitamins.

My focus is for shit though (can you tell?) so I look forward to reining some of that in.

I got tagged.

1. Grab the nearest book (that is at least 123 pages long).
2. Open to p. 123.
3. Go down to the 5th sentence.
4. Type in the following 3 sentences.
5. Tag five people.

And so, every week, we saw Hercules slaying the Nemean lion, or stealing the girdle of the Amazons (“That’s some girdle, eh, Callie?”), or being thrown gratuitously into snake pits without textual support. But our favorite was the Minotaur…

… On the screen an actor in a bad wig appears.

From Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides. I am reading it. Slowly, because that is how I read. I am thrilled to be reading such a rich and delicious book; I am thrilled to have brought reading back into my life.

I tag Albert, Derek, Brad, Chris, Corinna.

No, there is too much. Let me sum up.

Many of you who read Roberta’s Voice don’t read Basket of Kisses, the Mad Men blog I co-author with my sister. I understand. You love me, but you don’t watch the show.

But this puppy has been getting a lot of attention (our blog, not the show. I mean, the show certainly has, but I’m talking about us). And I thought I’d share it all with you. So I’ve provided a linky timeline. Please take few to poke around and just see how much love we’ve been getting.

Yeah starting with yesterday, when we met and schmoozed with Matthew Weiner.

2/9/08 Matt Weiner tells us he loves our blog

2/7/08 Rich Sommer (Harry Crane on MM) gets into TV Guide and gives me credit for my clever nickname for his ridiculously stunning daughter

2/2/08 Rich Sommer posts a thank you to me for writing him a birthday ode

1/30/08 AMC’s Mad Men blog features BoK as site of the week

1/13/08 Joe Bua of I am a TV Junkie gives us serious props (scroll past the YouTube)

1/10/08 Whitney Matheson of Pop Candy, via USA Today, AND TV Guide online, both cite BoK as source when announcing the Sunday midnight rerunning of Season 1

12/17/08 AMC lists (and links) BoK among those ‘who are talking about Mad Men’