Mid winter

Today is cold (relatively) and grey (relatively) so I’ve taken up hermiting in my room while the boys play Roblox. I think we’d all agree this is an ideal Saturday.

It was a rough week. No word from old contractor - he’s supposed to be drawing up a contract to pay us back some fraction of the money he owes us, but of course hasn’t done it yet - and, far worse, I got a call from the new contractor who is our neighbor that someone broke into our place and stole our $400 wood burning stove. The old contractor left it out there. And of course with the place not visited for two months, someone was going to break into it. It was an ugly reminder of how dangerous it is out there and how this could be our undoing - that our place could be constantly robbed, and I could get fed up and sell it. All of which was always a possibility, but seems even more so now that it’s started actually happening. I don’t feel good about it. 

I also had a bit of a scare when I got an announcement that an international package had been delivered to me, but never showed up - I thought for sure my wedding dress had gone missing. Thankfully the company in Russia said they hadn’t sent it yet, but it was a tense couple of days before I knew for sure. Who knows what that package actually was. It’s a similar situation to the cabin in the desert - it’s been a fraught ride with this dress, and it’s all taken far too long, and when I actually get it I may not like it and may have to start all over again. 

I got myself completely blocked and paralyzed doing days upon days of research into rental companies for wedding stuff - bathrooms, lighting, staging, backdrops, chairs, tables, place settings, succulent tablescapes, bar set up, etc etc - until I finally begged off and asked the wedding planner to walk through the space again with me, preferably with a rental person in the area, to make a list of exactly what I need, exactly where it’s going to go, measurements, etc etc. I just can’t picture it right now and I desperately need help. So I may drive out there by myself on a weekday and do the final walkthrough for placement. Last time was really just about deciding if the place would even be suitable. As much as I’m scared that time is ticking by - we’re four months away now - I think this meeting is the only way to move forward. 

I took a deep breath and contacted the hotel where I hold my event, just letting them know I’m planning on opening registration on May 1st and am optimistic about this coming year. They enthusiastically responded saying they have recently had a few large scale events that have not become super spreaders and that they’re excited to welcome me back. It’s the first step towards my event this year - although nobody knows it yet, we’re now officially “on”. Honestly, I thought I’d be full of dread at this moment, but I’m actually not. Like it or not, it’s what I do - as natural to me as eating or sleeping or breathing. It’s a scary time and re-entry may be bumpy, but I’m here for it. 

Off to court

It’s been a tense couple of days as the F has been negotiating with the first contractor on how to close out this part of the unfinished project. Not surprisingly, he’s become very defensive and trying to turn the blame on us (mostly using the defense that he gave us a second story, which we didn’t ask for, but that doubles the square footage of the building and therefore should double the price). The F is today going to try to get him to sign a contract agreeing to pay us back $12,000 at $300 a month and if he doesn’t, or then doesn’t live up to the agreement, we take him to (small claims) court. It’s all futile - we’ll never see a dime. It fills me with rage. Also, he has a bunch of stuff out there, next to my $400 stove, and I’m a little afraid he’s going to go out there and fuck everything up. Burn the place down? Sigh. What a mess. It’s been very stressful. I would have been bolstered by the fact of the new guy starting in a week…but it turns out he can’t start for another month. Goddammit. 

In good news, both boys tested negative this week, so we get another week of school. Somehow we made it through school reopening with no class closures or quarantines. I still expect this to end at any time - next week could still be the one where we all catch it. But I’m grateful we’ve made it this far. 

I asked the boys what they want for their birthdays, and I think I finally have a plan I can live with. My big fear regarding the boys’ birthdays this year is, having been isolated for two years, not knowing who their friends are anymore and not knowing who the parents are. And with covid still going, what if no one shows up? I think we’re past the “invite everyone you know” phase, and since the boys want the trampoline place we used in 2019, I think I’ll just do that. Have a dual birthday still (for cost & sister’s visit reasons) but have the boys just invite a few people (the people most likely to prioritize it and actually come) and have a small version with maybe 10 or fewer kids rather than a giant group. I like the no fuss aspect of it and the reduced cost, and even better, it’s what the kids really want for their first birthday back. I’m hoping by mid-March numbers will be reduced enough that people will feel safe. This whole “emerging back into the world” is weird.

I’m plotting to get B an Apple Watch for his birthday. Some of his friends have them so I don’t feel out of step, and it looks like I can get one free with the addition of the new line (don’t know what that will cost, though), and we need it if the kids are going to start walking home from school around that time. They’ve been asking about walking home lately - I’m glad it’s something they want to do and not just something I want them to do. But they must have a way to get a hold of me. It’s going to be profoundly weird the first time I don’t have to get in the car to go pick them up and they just magically show up at the door.

Decisions

After a reassuring call to my sister about the feasibility of her elderly parents (her dad - my mother’s first husband - and her step mother) navigating the boulder gardens, and a call to the caterer in which they assured me they could make it out there, I decided on the boulder gardens as the wedding spot. Deposit has been paid, same date, different place.

I had a moment of joy at the relief of this decision being made, and also in the knowledge that after six months or more of being jerked around and given false promises that our cabin situation is very likely to be resolved soon. But for some reason today the joy dissipated and I’m not doing so great. 

An elderly dance friend died (not covid related) and for some reason I couldn’t put together more than a sentence or two for him, while others are able to formulate beautiful and lengthy tributes. A friend called to ask for support after an unpleasant audition and all I could do was tell him how much I hated being in show business as a kid and how I don’t understand why anyone wants to do that with their life. Sigh. Sorry. The well is just fucking dry right now. I feel like I have nothing to give anyone. Why is this?

I would say “it’s the kids!” but honestly, the kids are barely a blip on my radar at the moment. They’re both fine - mostly - although my worry about them potentially getting sick at school is a river of anxiety that runs deep. Yes, the F has worked late the last three nights which has been unpleasant for me, but that’s not the main thing going on with me. I think it’s just good ol’ covid exhaustion, I really do.

Every time I read an article about the struggles of other people - the kids who lost caretakers, those with long covid still suffering, the parents with kids too little for the vaccine who are repeatedly sent home from daycare due to exposures - I get so full of rage at the unfairness of it all I can barely see. How are we still going through this. Is this ever going to fucking end. How can things be exponentially worse now than they were two years ago. It was supposed to get better. We’ve been lied to. Betrayed.

Everyone feels just like me. I take some small comfort in that, actually. I know I’m not crazy or overreacting. And yet we all just have to sit here and take it. Which also fills me with rage. Somebody just fix this. Somebody make it stop and make it all better. And yet. 

My mother died in unimaginable pain and horror all alone in a Brazilian studio apartment, and that’s how her story ended, and nothing will ever fix that. I can’t tell her I didn’t hate her after all; there will never be resolution there, ever. My friend of 25 years decided she didn’t want to be present at my wedding and I’ll never know why and we’ll never speak again. Life is unfair. In the scheme of things, these scenarios are small - I’m not a child who lost both parents to covid and am now in nightmarish foster care; I’m not an Afghani refugee watching my home country descend into madness from a Canadian hotel room. But these things are currently happening, and they are unfair, and life, for how much we desperately cling to it, really sucks sometimes. 

I have to get up and take the kids to school tomorrow, and once again hope this week’s covid tests come back negative. The teachers are losing it - I can tell from the lack of homework being assigned and plaintive messages begging for patience with technology issues for all the kids stuck at home. I don’t know how anyone in healthcare, service jobs, or teaching don’t just constantly have nervous breakdowns right now. I think if I were in that position I would seriously start doing drugs on my time off because fuck it. 

I would say I have nothing to look forward to, but that’s not true. I have the wedding, for one, and possibly my event later (not that my event, or even my wedding, will be “fun”, but they will definitely be social). I have the fun of decorating and starting to stay in the cabin. I have the very real possibility that this is the last time in our lives that covid will be this bad and disruptive. This really could be one last dramatic send off before life gets better, for real this time. And like any nightmare the day will come when we can’t hardly believe we ever survived this. My grandmother survived the 1918 pandemic, then the depression, then WWII, then an alcoholic husband. And yet I’m convinced the Trump presidency would have done her in, had she lived that long. Are we just soft? I ask myself this often. I guess I’m just having one of those moments where I’m having a hard time focusing on the positive. Maybe I’m just not exercising enough. 

The long weekend

We spent the weekend in (surprise!) a wacky Joshua Tree compound. You know - space alien themes, twenty plugs in one outlet, hoarder’s trash strewn around the sandy yard in attempt at whimsy - the usual.

First - it was wicked cold. I definitely underestimated how cold it gets out there, especially as the sun goes down. We basically froze our asses off. The house had only space heaters, and one stopped working by our final night. Our first day we spent in the National park, to visit some of the places we hadn’t seen yet, thanks to Bobby’s free fourth grader pass. As always the boys enjoyed rock scrambling. It’s always a bit of a heart stopper to see your kids disappear into boulders - and yet they always manage to materialize (and not fall and hurt themselves). 

The next day we saw one venue (raw open desert performance space, definitely not worth the thousands they were charging), then went by the property with the cool art that has not answered our emails, then went by the cabin to assess the land as a wedding venue (also a no - just not pretty enough). 

Monday was the day I finally met my wedding planner (nice but spacey Gen Z-er) for a marathon of venue viewings. I realized putting a day like this at the end of an already pretty tiring trip is not a great idea (I believe it was the only day she had free, however). We saw first our boulder gardens place that we love. We definitely saw more potential in it than last time…but also more potential for disaster. As we were driving down the seemingly endless bumpy dirt road to it, I kept picturing our guests and vendors and wondering what they would think - would they hate us? Would it seem worth it once they got there or would they just be thoroughly freaked out and annoyed? What if someone breaks down out there where there’s no cell service? Is this thing that we think is so cool actually just really too far out of everyone’s comfort zone? What if the vendors - mainly our taco truck - inform us halfway there that they don’t think they can make it and have to turn back? All of these thoughts plagued me as we set out for venue #2, the one recommended by our planner and more of a safe bet, with two small houses to stay in and lots of infrastructure. You do, however, still have to bring in bathrooms, generators, and in this case, have people shuttled in, which is a huge headache and expense I was hoping to avoid. But the place is nice and there’s a big hill I can pop over for a “reveal” as I walk in, which is important to me. In this space, our concept of a long camping weekend would be out. We visited a possible camping space after, but decided it was too dystopian (great for us - for others, not so much). So really we’re down to two choices, unless we find others - our hippie bolder place (probably cheaper up front but a lot of work to dress and with lots of scary unknowns), or the second place which would be fine but I’m not sure has the effect we were hoping for. We have to ask ourselves, in making people drive 2 1/2 hours, is this worth it? Or could we just have rented some place in Chatsworth? 

Then the F spoke to the old contractor on Saturday - the story is the same; he wants to finish but doesn’t know if he ever can (he had to take a full time job recently), and says he could pay me back but it would have to be monthly small payments. I wish we had just agreed to #2 on the spot, but the F gave him a week to think about it. So now I have to go back to the second guy (who thankfully couldn’t start before then anyway) and fill him in. God I want this resolved - I just hope we can get the new guy on and get the old guy making payments. Even though I can guarantee the payments won’t last long. We also have to decide how much of the remaining work we want done by the new guy and how much we can do ourselves. 

I am so completely overwhelmed by big financial life changing decisions right now that I don’t even know what to do with myself. I am utterly drained mentally. For weddings - we have the easy choice that could feel sort of meh, or the awesome choice that could be a disaster. For the cabin, I have to navigate this personnel shift and shell out tons more money while at the same time hoping I can get some back to recoup my losses, plus having to make a million and one decisions on how this place should be built. Oh….it’s a lot.

Add this in to fear of kids being in school and all of us inevitably getting sick. Oy. Although…it may just be wishful thinking and late holiday reporting, but there is a slight chance California’s epic wave is finally rounding the curve. I figure we’ve got maybe only a week or two more of rising numbers even if this isn’t the case. Here’s hoping. Being on constant high alert is doing me in. 

Waiting

I feel like everyone in the world is waiting. Waiting to catch covid, and/or for covid to be over, or over enough for things to more resemble the “normal” we knew last spring for what seems like a minute. 

Theo’s class is half empty. Bobby’s teacher is absent for a week - for what I can only assume is covid. And yet, kids are going to school each morning and returning each afternoon. They were tested yesterday. I’m going to assume anything they would have caught the day before wouldn’t have showed up by the next day, so I don’t know if we can trust those results. But as of this moment, Thursday night, we’re all a-symptomatic and in my mind, don’t have covid. Knock wood. 

I’m in that weird in-between of having called and emailed and messaged everyone I can about every conceivable topic, and am now just sitting and waiting while no one gets back to me about anything. I’m bored and frustrated and anxious. Still no estimate from the new contractor even though we met almost two weeks ago. I’m not sold on shelling out $5000 right now on a storage container; I was thinking about having this hulking monstrosity on the property and am questioning if that’s really in keeping with the small footprint we want to keep out there. The F wants to put it smack against the cabin and re-route the wash behind it; this is all starting to sound way over-complicated, when all I wanted was a little classic outhouse. I found a wedding venue that looks absolutely amazing but they haven’t answered my emails. I’m trying to coordinate visiting five different places this weekend, and just this morning the F was shocked we’re leaving tomorrow and not Saturday, also shocked that it’s a three day weekend and no, we’re not returning until Monday night. Even though we’ve talked about this several times. I’m always amazed by people who have no concept of when national holidays are. Still not sure if he’s going to be able to take work off for when I want him to. We may end up leaving Saturday and missing the one day we had free to hang out in the park. Boo.

For this new year, with everything being so unpredictable and out of control, I wanted to learn one new thing that might make me feel better about myself, so I bought a flat iron and have been attempting to learn how to style my hair. So far it’s going kind of ok. It’s definitely something that takes a lot of practice and technique. I think I’ve been trying to use the flat iron when my hair is too damp. I’ll spend maybe 20 minutes-half hour on it only to feel like my hair looks pretty much the same as it did before. It’s a huge effort for very little results. Still determined to keep trying, though. I think next time I’ll try bone-dry hair and see if that helps. 

Speaking of huge effort for little results, I’ve been having some thoughts about weight loss. I had started the 5:2 diet in January of 2020 when I weighed about what I do now, and lost about 13 lbs in the weeks before everything went to shit in March. I stuck with the fasting until about November of last year, and was pleased that, despite nearly two years of pandemic, I only gained back about 5lbs. However, after slowing down exercise and stopping the 5:2 entirely, I gained another 7 lbs by Christmas. And I thought this would just keep going, as I’ve been eating whatever I want and exercising intermittently ever since. However, it’s now been 3+ weeks and I haven’t gained a pound. Which goes contrary to my previous theory that if I stopped fasting I would just gain weight forever. It really makes me think that, unless you do something extreme, like severely over-or under-eat, your body just picks a weight it wants and sticks there. Unfortunately my nearly 50-year-old ass has apparently decided this is its happy weight. And I’m not mad about it - I’m enjoying snacks and treats and not counting calories and not fasting and yet still think my body looks ok and can fit into most of my clothes. My sister said, when I was bemoaning my ten pound weight gain since two years ago, “be kind to yourself”. She’s right. I’ve been so hard on myself to try to stay skinny, and for what? To be a lousy ten pounds lighter which barely makes a difference? Is it worth starving two days a week for weight loss that doesn’t even really look like anything? Everything is awful - there’s no gigs or social activities on the calendar; even for my wedding I’ve wisely chosen a non-form fitting dress so I don’t have to feel pressured to lose weight right before. And I’m old and smack up against menopause and it’s really fucking hard to be girl-skinny at this age. Do I just give up? Do I just accept myself at this slightly overweight weight and throw up my hands and say, “I guess this is it”? No matter what the long term answer is, the short term answer is yes, yes I do. I need my small comforts right now, things are very stressful, and I just don’t have it in me to try intermittent fasting again right now (especially when I was only losing and re-gaining the same three pounds over and over again for the last 22 months). Maybe at some point later I’ll be motivated to suffer for two months straight just to lose the lousy 7-8 lbs I gained over the holidays. Or maybe I’ll just say the hell with it.

Last day of vacay

The kids are as usual playing video games in their pajamas, but for the last time for a while, as school starts tomorrow. LAUSD is very determined to keep schools open, and I support this decision. There’s been some talk that closing schools for over a year really didn’t do anything - anything except disrupt kids’ education and mental health. We’ll never know for sure, but I cling to the hope that at least at this point in the pandemic we’ve learned that complete shut downs don’t actually accomplish anything. 

We haven’t heard from the new contractor as far as rates, but I have been in touch and he says he hopes to write something up this week. The F, who is determined to have ATVs at some point out there, had the idea to get a shipping container for use as both a bathroom/shower unit and storage for large things, like ATVs, solar panels, a water tank, etc. I think it’s a great idea, and the contractor confirmed that most likely it would cost about the same to buy/deliver/modify a shipping container for this purpose as it would to build a structure, and you’d have the bonus of the secure storage. So now I’m on the hunt for shipping containers - but of course there’s a shortage. Sigh. I really wanted to be signed on with the new guy and building by now…but it was not to be.

Shocker of shocks, we got an email Saturday night from our fabulous wedding venue that their permit for hosting events has been pulled by the county and they have been forced to cancel all weddings. So…as of this moment, the wedding is off. As you can imagine I’ve been in a mad, adrenaline-fueled scramble ever since. Fortunately we had already scheduled a visit out there for the long weekend next weekend to meet with our wedding planner to walk the place, so instead now we’ll be touring new venues. I had assumed everything would be booked for our weekend, but thankfully there are a few options; for some, we may just have to get creative. I’ve circled back to the Boulder Gardens, where we first fell in love with the desert; we had decided last summer that it wasn’t suitable because there weren’t really any flat areas, but I think it’s worth revisiting with our planner to see if she has any ideas beyond our capability. They have the weekend open, and as I recall from last time, the rates are good. We’ll look at a new venue she recommended that looks terrific, but would definitely be just an in-and-out one day deal, if we decide to go that route. Then there’s also project X, which would be having it on our land. My only concern there would be a) ground too rocky and full of bushes to be suitable, b) pissing off neighbors - of course, they won’t be there in June though. But it would be FREE, people can come to camp, no capacity limits, no shut down time, and did I mention FREE. It’s worth considering, even if there’s some clearing/cleaning of the property to be done first. Many of these venues require bringing in literally everything - even the Boulder gardens we’d have to bring bathrooms, all furniture, generators, etc. Then there’s also a basic performance space we’ll tour on Sunday and I’ve reached out to the neighboring wacky bohemian glamp site for housing (we almost visited in the summer, but cut our visit short. I don’t know if this place is possible but it could be pretty awesome). So, I’m not too panicked because there are options, and it looks like we can keep our date. We’ll see what happens next weekend. I’m glad I didn’t have real invites printed yet. 

Here a covid test, there a covid test…

The New Year was rung in with fear and trepidation as all parents’ eyes turned to the rapidly approaching return to school, and, slouching towards Bethlehem, we hied ourselves to the local high school that was offering covid tests for all LAUSD students in the area. 

Numbers are breaking records everywhere. Those who started school this week (not us) have, in many cases, already stopped. Bobby and Theo passed their PCR tests - I told them both they got a 65. Ha. 

I have had two negative at home tests but I wouldn’t be surprised if I have it still. An announcement was made that someone tested positive from our NYE gig. I’ve got some minor throat irritation going on. Is it covid or is it allergies? Who knows. We’ll never know. I do know that they posit that if your threshold of virus is so low it can’t be detected on a home test then odds are you aren’t contagious. And NYE was almost a week ago to the day. You’d think the kids would be positive or I would be showing signs at this point if I picked something up from either gig. 

My sister is visiting. I’m spending these last days off school entertaining her and making sure the kids brush teeth twice a day and occasionally throwing food at them and cuddling with the cat while watching long hours of Love Island UK because that’s exactly where my brain needs to go right now. Romance, sex, gossip, heartbreak, betrayal. I’m here for it. Anything but trying to calculate when we’re all finally going to catch covid. Anything but that.

We went to the desert Sunday and met with the neighbor that could be our new contractor. It was strange to see the odd oblong box that is our future vacation home. The neighbor appears very competent and willing - I’ve waited all week for some kind of broken down estimate to finish the job - bathroom structure built, door and windows, porch, roof finished, stove installed. I can’t make any decisions until I know what he’s going to charge. We may do the more cosmetic stuff ourselves. I have had no contact with the original contractor. I am crossing all fingers that we can work with this new guy. I don’t think there’s much escaping the fact that I am going to have to pay twice over for this place to be built. There will be no justice here, I’m afraid.