I've Forgotten How to Blog.

There are many things I want to say... many strange things that I am feeling. But I think I forgot how to blog. That's strange in itself, isn't it? Perhaps it will pass...

I had a nice weekend. It included a three hour choir rehearsal and an overnight visit to my parents house. My choir rehearsal was an alto sectional and we really got down to the dirty work. We are in the process of learning (and polishing) a modern piece-- crunchy chromatic music, coloring poems by Dickinson, Yeats and ee cummings. (It's by a female composer and we're singing its premier!) The experience... the music... the lines... it was simultaneously warming and unsettling.

Colored... and coloring...

I colored in a coloring book this weekend. After that, I drew with markers on construction paper. Why? I sketched with my stepbrother. My mother bought a brand new box of Crayola crayons. When I was a little kid and I used to list my favorite things, a new box of crayons always neared the top of the list. I loved having sharpened points on every color of my choosing. I used to know the 64 colors (and their order in the box) by heart. They have a lot of new ones now, and many of the colors were listed in English, Spanish and French. Maybe I'm getting old. Well... at least I'm getting older.

In any case, I'm a pretty good artist and as for my stepbrother-- he used to have a skill for drawing. I wanted to see if it was still there. I thought drawing was something "different" I could do with him. He watches too much television these days. Anyway, it was amazing-- he still had remarkable eye to brain to hand to page coordination. Of course, he could not create a very accurate picture, but that part of his brain clearly still functions, and I saw it working. It's really important for him to tap into as much as is left of his brain. And so, I think it's something we can return to-- something on which I can work with him. He was tired after one drawing. We both drew a ceramic chicken my mom has in the kitchen. I was happy to do it with him. As sure as he is here, he is a living miracle.

Tonight I have a date with TT. It's the lasagna dinner that was originally slated for last Thursday, but I was sick. He was very gracious about my cancellation and texted me twice to check up on me, offering to bring over some chicken soup. It's a strange feeling for me to have him treat me that way after all of this time with Narc. So, I'm looking forward to the date (in a way), but it's also very tempered by anxiety and sadness. I'm sad about Narc. I'm sad, but-- what's this? I'm also filled with something new... a strange indifference. (Is "indifferent" a word I EVER thought I'd use when it comes to Narc?)

I haven't heard from Narc (not a text since Thursday, nor a voice communication since I saw him in person a week ago Saturday). I haven't called or texted him either. Something is changing within me. Death is in the air. No... scrap that. Maybe it's new beginnings that I'm feeling. I'm unusually anxious. I couldn't sleep last night. I haven't had a drink since Tuesday. It's Monday now. Does that make a difference? Did I ever love Narc? Do I still?

I don't know, you guys. I just know that I really don't feel like myself right now, and I don't know what else to say about it. Blogging is hard today. Perhaps I need to wait for the psychic dust to settle.

There is a post brewing in me about my mom, though. I may be able to handle that when I have a moment.

Oh... and there's a major battle about to ensue in my family over guardianship of my stepbrother. It's the calm before the storm right now, but it's coming. And it sucks that it has to come to this. More on that later, I suppose...

I hope you all enjoyed your weekend. And to my American readers-- I hope you guys have the day off today too! :)

-h-