Where to Begin

Generally, starting at the beginning is a good idea.  The problem is the beginning of life-as-I now-know-it seems a distant memory.  Actually it was just the day before Labor Day when Mark left for a job in DC and I was left to run our household alone.  He was gone from then until just about two weeks ago.  He came home for a visit and left this afternoon.  I wanted to talk more with no kids around to interrupt us.  I wanted to bury my nose in his neck a little longer.  I wanted to hold back the tears so he wouldn't feel guilty leaving me here alone.  I couldn't.  Then I turned around to my daughter's precious face looking at me, trying to figure out my sorrow.  I could almost see it penetrating her.  Besides, there was carpool, homework and dinner.  There was no time to curl into a ball and cry.  That is good- MOST of the time.  It could be beneficial, occasionally.

That being said, I want to jump in where I am right now.  No time for back story.  Feeling the need to share the details of how we arrived at this situation has had me paralyzed in writing the blog.  I miss it.  I feel inspired.  So here goes.

Tonight I just wanted some time away from the house and the kids.  Thankfully my new neighbor who happens to be an old friend (yes, long story there) took me to the bookstore.  Bookstores are one of my favorite places.  My friend spotted a book called The Hate Book.  It was covered with pictures of rainbows, unicorns and sunshine.  We laughed at the bizarre combination of title and cover art.  I couldn't imagine liking anything about this book being the Polly Anna, glass half-full, rose-colored glasses girl that I am but I couldn't resist just a peek.  Well, the next hour and a half was spent thoroughly enjoying the book, chatting with my friend and making my own hate list.  I didn't know just how hateful I was and it inspired me to share my random list with you.  I hope you will make your own list and maybe share it with me.  Okay, maybe just one thing you hate...as a comment to this post... pretty please?

I hate that I haven't blogged since August 14.
I hate that I have great ideas for blogs but don't stop to write them or at least jot notes down for later.
I hate knowing I would probably never go back to those notes.
I hate that my fingers are not as fast as the thoughts flying through my head.
I hate that the best jobs for Mark are in DC but we really want to make a life in New Orleans.
I hate that lots of people don't "get" New Orleans and love it like I do.
I hate that we couldn't live in England longer.
I hate that I can't speak another language.
I hate that I didn't always read the assigned books in high school.
I hate that there aren't enough hours in the day.
I hate that I can't be in New Orleans, Nantucket, New York, Paris and Disneyworld simultaneously.
I hate the way most people drive.  I hate that I think I am a better driver than most people.

I hate that since Mark left, I haven't read, written or knitted anything.
I hate that I can't remember half the things I wanted to share with you.
I hate wondering if anyone cares to read my "postcards" now that they are from New Orleans instead of the UK.
I hate cucumbers.
I hate that I will never get to sing and dance on Broadway.
I hate that I didn't realize until now how therapeutic this is
but
I
LOVE
that
I
am
writing
to
you
again.

Shall you take a turn then? (read in a British accent) :-)
Dina

PS.  I hate hitting "publish" then having to wait on comments.  I hate that I often need instant gratification.