I just read that Julia appears to be pregnant with twins. I am holding my breath with anxiety: Twice as many things that can go wrong. Twice as many miscarriages that might happen. Twice as many babies might die.

I keep reading her because her writing is so lovely. She is like a wonderful secret that the publishing world hasn't discovered yet, my very own Lorrie Moore.

And yet, she makes me anxious. I want to drive to Minnesota and slap her. I am so glad that she is pregnant, but if she loses them and if she does this again, I will do it. I will drive up there and slap her.

I said that last time too. And the time before that.

But twins.

I just found a rather large sliver of wood on the floor right next to my foot. As I bent over to pick it up and place it on the coffee table, I was briefly tempted to jam it into my foot, hard, so I wouldn't have to go running today.

We were walking home from the Kum & Go tonight and I was smoking a cigarette. But I started to feel breathless, so even though I hadn't smoked very much of it, I tossed it into the street, and shifted our bag of chips, dingdongs, candy bar into my other hand. If he noticed that I had tossed my cigarette away, he didn't remark on it. I looked at the puddles on the street, leftover from many rains today, and wondered what would have happened if one of them had been gasoline instead when I flicked the butt away.

I can't sleep tonight. Again. Probably because I had to lie down at 5, so very tired. We had sex and I came for a very long time, and I felt like I could have cum for an hour. But I thought he probably wanted to get to sleep at some point.

I have a phone interview with a recruiter tomorrow morning. That was pretty stupid. I don't want the job. I am not planning to relocate. But I couldn't let the ego stroke pass me by. Or something.

Tonight, lying in bed, I was feeling restless, bored. I want to be noticed, I want to be famous or loved or just seen somehow. I want someone to feel some curiosity about me. I know the best way to get this is just to live my life and have it be as full as it can be: at the point that I no longer care whether or not I am seen, I will be seen.

I worried and fretted in my bed earlier that I am not fully present in my life. I am half-way into the computer world all the time, at every moment. I can't stay offline, always moving from site to site, checking, checking, seeing, seeing. I don't do anything anymore. I don't eat out of my fridge. I don't feed the cats. I don't cook dinner. I don't fold the laundry. I hire someone to clean. I am no longer fully engaged in my physical world. I have managed to eliminate the need to do anything but hold the laptop and type.

There is something seriously wrong with this. I need to unplug more. I must. I must get out to the studio and use the paints. Think about things that I can do with the children so they will learn to do more than just look at computer screens. This is a sickness. I need to fully engage, do the laundry, vacuum.

This morning, I cooked eggs for the children and made hot chocolate and last night, we all went to baseball. I ran four miles. Today, we walked to the gas station at midnight. We made love. I started a book. It isn't as bad as I'm making it out to be. But it certainly could be better.

Jen Doesn't Live Here Anymore

Now, I live here.

molly!

I was worrying, thinking, sure that nobody would read this.

Snapshots

As you may have noticed, I am back at blogger, my old friend, because Iki is hard at work fixing my blog and updating my Movable Type! Thank you, Iki!!!

Friday: Going out to dinner with friends, eating Mexican food, drinking frozen strawberry Margaritas. Going to the DuKum and not caring about the music, going downstairs with my gin and tonic and talking out on the patio with J.

Saturday: Going to Home Depot for the first time.
Jen: "When I was a child, I would have thought this was the most boring place in the world. It would have made me feel like I wanted to go to sleep."

Dash: "And now that you're an adult?"

Jen: " This is the most boring place in the world, and I want to go to sleep."

Saturday: Going on the most stiff-legged run ever for four miles.

Saturday: Taking a bath with Dash, and singing Bohemian Rhapsody, just one phrase over and over again, loudly, while pouring water over his head: "Mama, life had just begun! And now I've gone and thrown it alllll awayyyyyy... Mammmmma! Oooohhhhhh! Didn't mean to make you cry! If I'm not back again this time TOMORROWWWWW, carry OOOOON, CARRYY OOOOONNNN, cause nothing really matters to MMEEEEE."

Sunday: Lying in bed in the darkened room and finishing Eragon. Feeling tired from the past week's insomnia. And fully sick of the computer for the first time in years. Trotting off now!

Caloden