Sunday, December 18, 2011

The Only Way Through is Through It

I haven't written in this thing for a long time and I have no other excuse other than I have not wanted to rehash the suck that has been my life lately.  Wow, start off right away with negativity right?  Not really, just take it in a tongue in cheek way as it was (and still kind of is) the truth.  I'm not going to lie, my life has been kind of not great in the last few weeks.  A lot of shit has gone down and I had the neither the want or need and definitely not the energy to recount the bad shit.

First, of all let me just say a lot of the bad shit was made a LOT worse by the Mirena IUD I had inserted.  I cried all.the.time.  Non-stop.  Sometimes up to four or five times a day of real, honest to God sobbing tears.  I couldn't talk about anything without my eyes welling up with tears.  Good or bad, any emotion I felt brought on tears.  I was like a walking, talking adult sized fucking newborn.  I was hungry, I would cry.  I had gas, I cried.  Oh was that a smile?  Nope, just fixing to cry.  My mother suggested I had it removed because she noticed that I couldn't get through a sentence without choking up.  This was not an exaggeration.  Look, even before the IUD, I was the kind of person who cried just knowing a scene in a movie was coming up that made me cry before.  I can't think of the Hunger Games Trilogy without sheddding a few tears.  I see a commercial with a cute puppy or  a cute kid, I get a lump in my throat.  The Mirena made it SO MUCH WORSE.  But, I will say although it hasn't gone completely away, it has lessened quite a bit.

The main thing was a very costly car repair that has put me in a real ugly spot.  I'll survive, but that one thing has sent me into a constant state of anxiety and panic.  I can't help it.  Even though the problem is solved, I still feel sick to my stomach almost constantly, filled with thoughts of "What if?".  What if scares the shit out of me and What if can make or break a person and What if makes me lose a lot of sleep at night.

I try to tell myself that I lived like this before, where I was in a constant state of panic, and I survived.  I kind of laugh at that other girl who thought her life was so shitty.  Wow, girl you had NO FUCKING CLUE!! and I try to remember that when I feel like it just can't get much worse.  There were lots of times back in the day that I thought it just couldn't get much worse.  I have a lot of affirming statements that I say to get me through the day... "Everything in this moment is as it should be"  "I'm giving it up to God"  or my favorite "Fuck it, there's not anything I can do about it anyway."  and I try to move on.  TRY.  I'm not very good at it yet.

So where's the silver lining?  Well, even though I always knew my friends were amazing, they have really stepped up to the plate and helped me out in many ways.  They've bought clothes for the kids, helped with Christmas presents for the kids and treated me to dinners and coffees and all kinds of things.  Mainly, they are there for me 110 percent.  Today, while shopping with my friend Roxie, I was crying (SURPRISE!!) and she said "I am so happy to have you in my life, Sandi." and that... that was just the best thing anyone had said to me in a long fucking time and it didn't cost her a thing.  Because, at the end of the day, we all need to know that we're loved and appreciated, even if we show up empty handed and deflated and a little beat up. 

Monday, November 14, 2011

Blue Christmas

I've been really down.  I don't know if it's because of life in general or because of the Mirena I had put in, but there's been a noticeable change.  I'm having a hard time finding the positive in much of anything anymore.  The things that brought me comfort in the past are no longer doing it for me. I'm still functioning. I still get up and go to work and clean up and cook food and stuff like that, but I spend an insane amount of time wishing I could be back in bed and when I do have time off it's spent usually in bed.  Not like, holed up in bed neglecting all other things. Just, in my room watching TV.  Then again, what else is there to do when you really think about it?  I'm a single mom with two kids. Partying isn't high on my to do list.  I've always been anti-social in general, add my life situation right now, am I really that surprised?  Before, I would have been playing video games for hours on end.  Is watching TV in my room that much different?

When I moved here, I started off so optimistic and I want to be that optimistic again.  With the pressures of my divorce (WTF do they need ALL THIS PAPERWORK FOR?!?) and the holidays and trying to figure out how I'm going to get the kids gifts this year, I really just feel like hibernating the winter away.  I miss being home with my kids.  Previous Christmases I would have my nice little Christmas fund money and I'd spend hours online shopping for the best deals and making all their little dreams come true.  Like I was telling a friend the other day, my savings plan?  It's a coffee can in my kitchen full of change.  You can't imagine how much this bothers a complete control freak like me.

Before this divorce, our lives together was starting to get on track.  We were both kind of lost in the sea of adulthood for many years, with one financial mess after another.  We both contributed to it, but we made it through.  Once I became a stay at home mom, my focus was to get our act together and I did.  I made sure our bills were always paid and that we never had to scramble.  We were able to buy a house and be normal adults.  That lasted a year before everything went to hell and I'm a little bitter about it. Now, I'm back to square one after all my fucking hard work.  Do you know how hard it is to monitor a grown man's spending?  People used to give me shit about how on point I was about our account.  How Tony could never surprise me with gifts because I would know. People don't realize I HAD TO DO THIS because if I didn't, we were in trouble.  It was my job and I did it well.

So, feeling like I have no control now drives me up a freaking wall and I'm not handling it very well.

Friday, November 11, 2011


As a single parent going through a divorce, it's almost as if you're not allowed to bitch about how hard it is. Other people can't handle it.  You may have one or two friends who will let you vent, but you don't want to use them too much. What people don't realize when you're a single parent who happens to be the custodial parent as well, you can do a LOT of venting.  Like, hard to find the positive in ANYTHING, kind of venting.  I've become so hyper aware about it, that I've pretty much stopped talking to a lot of people just to not put anyone out.  I can hear it in their voices, or see it on their faces if I go there.   They don't want to hear it, and they don't know what to say.  I'm expected to be super optimistic and show only my fiercely brave side.  Heaven fucking forbid if I cry.

I think people are so used to seeing single parents on television and they kind of have a skewed vision of what it should be.  It's the mom who managed to keep the family home, and who can still afford to be a stay at home mom, or it's the plucky mom who works during the day, and goes to school at night, all the while maintaining a spotless home and feeding her kids a hot meal every night with a weary smile on her face, one strand of hair falling out of her ponytail and into her face.

Even here in my own personal space, I try not to be too negative.  I don't want to be judged for not being able to "keep it together."  It's almost as if I complain, I'm somehow losing the single mom game. 

So, you think, lean on other single moms right?  Vent to them?  Umm, that doesn't really work out either, because then it turns into a pissing contest of who has it harder.  I've had people tell me "You get HOW MUCH from your ex-husband?  Lucky."  with just a hint of bitterness, or they say I'm lucky because I get two weekends "off" or whatever, or tell me how much more they're sacrificing to make it work, and if I could always do better.  It's very frustrating.  But, once again, women like  to tear each other down instead of building each other back up.  It's always that way.  I do have one friend I commiserate with regularly,even though her situation is shittier than mine, she never makes me feel bad about my frustrations.

So, with all that being said there are certain things people say when the subject is brought up that drives me bananas.  I know they're usually trying to be helpful, but usually I just get frustrated and don't know how to respond.

Here are the phrases I hate hearing the most from people:

"Count your blessings"..... I get it. I have two great kids,  I have a roof over my head, food in my tummy, a job, a car and boundless blessings.  I know. I KNOW!  You know what else I have?  Pain, confusion, worry and frustration.  And I just want to LET IT OUT without you trying to make me be positive.  I want to let it out so I don't fucking explode. Is that too much to ask?  I know I'm lucky, but in this moment, I feel like shit and putting on my rose colored glasses isn't going to make it all go away. It's unhealthy.

"At least you know now that he was cheating.".... Again. I get it.  Yes, you're absolutely right.  Now, I KNOW and I always kind of knew.  Kind of?  I knew for sure.  He denied it.  He called me crazy our whole marriage. He made our friends doubt me.  Once, my very best friend pulled me aside and said "You got to let this cheating notion go. He'd never do that."   Worst of all, he made me doubt myself to the point of depression meds and therapy.  He really made me feel like a terrible person.  But, that moment of "I KNEW IT!" is just that.  A moment.  After a while, your "told you so moment" is replaced with feeling like a fool.  A total and complete fool.  It's replaced with pain.  It's replaced with the knowledge that your worst fear that you tried to squash for many years is very, very true.  Ignorance is bliss. 

"The kids will realize this when they get older and it will affect their relationship."....  This statement is very true, but it's very sad to think my children will see their father for what he really is and it may not be so great and that's probably going to mess with their heads.  This upsets me.  Again, it goes back to ignorance is bliss.  I don't push issues with him not to make his life easier, but to make sure their lives are a little bit easier. 

"Well, make HIM......"  This one bugs me the most.   Make him pay for daycare, make him do parent teacher conferences. Make him.  Make him.  Make him.  How in the world do you make a person who hates your guts do anything?  A man that has already proven that he can't see past me and look to them.  Perfect example.  Aislinn probably needs glasses.  I texted him to tell him that we needed to at least split this cost.  No response. More than one person has told me to make him pay.  How do I make him pay if I can't even get him to ackowledge there's an issue?  I don't know if he thinks that I'm lying to score $50 for hookers and blow, or what.  He just can't see that his daughter needs glasses and as her parent, he has a moral obligation to ensure her health is taken care of.  He just sees he writes "that bitch" a check every  month, and raising kids can't be that expensive, why can't I pay for the fucking glasses.  


That was cathartic.  I feel much better.  Sometimes, bitching feels good. 

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Broke the Dude Fast. Sorta.

Last night I was in sinus pain hell, and I was in bed watching tv when my phone buzzes.  My phone always buzzes.  Between texts, Facebook, Words with Friends, and various other apps, it's a wonder the battery doesn't drain a lot faster. 

It was a Plenty of Fish message.  Now, when I get a PoF message, I get excited but not for the reason you think.  Pure entertainment value on my part.  Seriously.  I check them because I figure either I'm going to laugh at their pathetic attempt to woo me (Hello, or Hey, you're hot or, What's up, Sexy?)  be mildly disturbed by their message or profile, or I can laugh at their pictures.  Something.  Or it could someone that's kind of cool and something could come of it.  Usually not.  I've only met two decent guys on there (And come to think of it, those two guys I've had the longest encounters with. Hmmm) and I'm still on my dude fast, and my face hurt and I needed a giggle.

It was a guy that had messaged me when I first moved here.  He has your typical jaded, why am I not with anyone yet and I'm sick of this shit, profile.  A long lists of things he DOESN'T WANT and he WILL NOT ACCEPT ANYTHING LESS and when you read his profile he pretty much knocks out most women that would be in our age group.  It's super long and rambling and he attempts to sound super intelligent, he's balding, has a goatee and looks all around kind of creepy.  He's a Scorpio, which is a big hells to the nah, ya'll,  and he's just unpleasant.  My thing is, if you can't even be pleasant in your DATING PROFILE, well I'm sure being around you is a joy, pure bliss.

So, even though I am on my dude fast, I messaged him back, and politely told him we had exchanged messages before and it did not go well, and I hoped he had a good night. (I didn't really hope he had a good night, that's just something you say in polite society,)  I assumed he didn't remember as it had been almost a year.  When I got his message the first time, I pretty much shot him down from the jump because of his profile.  I explained to him that his profile seemed negative and that wasn't something I was looking for in my life, and he then sent me a rambling manifesto on why I was incorrect in my assumption.  I just responded something snarky like oh yeah, because this message proves to me exactly why my assumptions are incorrect.  To which he proceeded to send me 2 more messages despite me not replying anymore, trying to convince me, quite poorly, I might add, on why I should date him.

See?  Pure entertainment.  Because you know I told everyone about that shit.

Here's the thing.  When I mentioned that we had spoken before, thinking he hadn't remembered me.  HE HAD.  He knew exactly who I was, and said that he didn't think our conversation to be all that bad.  Wow, sir.  Just. WOW.  Which would mean, if he does the typical PoF thing, then he has probably sent a bunch of messages, and out of all of his encounters, mine was one of the better ones.  I didn't bother to reply.  This guy will be lonely forever because he can't make allowances, as per his profile.

After I've read his last message, I start looking at my matches. Again, I'm on a dude fast and therefore I shouldn't even be ON this site, but my face hurt and I always like to giggle.  So, there you go.  '

One guy kind of catches my eye.  Tall, glasses, red head.  Older than me, has kind of a hipster vibe.  I was tempted. So tempted.  But, then my list came into play and smacked him down in my head.  He has a goatee, he wears a ball cap in every picture, he has two pictures of himself holding an alcoholic beverage.  Blah blah blah.  One or two of those things I could handle.  But, three? Four?  I move on.

I'm no better than Mr. Rude Guy.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

No Money, No Problems (Ok SOME Problems)

I was a stay at home mom for eight years, and this has benefitted me more than I can express now that I'm a single, working mom.  I realize that my financial situation is slightly better than a lot of woman out there, but it's still a struggle.  I've had to do and say some things in the last few weeks that have really just kind of sucked the air out of my lungs and made me cry a bit.

In those moments, I think two things... if he wanted to come back, I'd probably be embarrassed by how long it would take me to say no, and now I get why woman hook up with some random loser so fast.  Help financially.  I refuse to do that.  I want to be with someone becuase we love each other, not because his money would help me breathe easier.

Also, what many people don't understand is that I'm REALLY careful with my money.  I am not at all frivolous. I've given up damn near everything, from my K-cups, low carbing, shopping, buying new books for my Kindle app buy in bulk (Something I really believe in) , fast food. I buy cheap shampoo, soap, laundry detergent and coffee and Splenda.  I mean, like off brands on things I swore I'd NEVER buy off brands on when I was married. I used to only buy Gain and Tide.  Now, I buy the Dollar General stuff.  I used to only drink Folgers or Maxwell house, now I drink Wal-Mart brand.  When I think of the amount of money I would spend on SHAMPOO?!?  Omg. It's embarrassing.  I used to buy $40 body wash. FORTY  DOLLAR BODY WASH.  But, it was really good body wash, I won't lie.  I just shake my head.  The funny thing was, while we were married I was always stressed about money. Always.  It was never enough.  I was an idiot. 

I think the biggest mistake people make is this.  They get too excited that it's pay day.  Seriously.  To me, pay day is another day.  I might breathe a sigh of relief because I have $5 in my purse and I need gas, but I at least still have that $5.  I see people at the credit union all the time, people making a lot more than I am, come strutting in on pay day, excited, smiling talking about all the fun things they're going to do that weekend.  Those are the same people that come back a a week and a half later with a cup full of change, wondering where all their money went.   I'm not judging, but I realized when I was a stay at home mom that rich people?  They never think about pay day.  I adopted that same attitude as best as I could, but sometimes it couldn't be helped.

I think realizing that you're not going to need as much  money as you THINK you do really helps as well.  This is something I did my whole marriage. I'd think "Omg! We only have X amount until pay day, I better go and withdraw money before things start to hit"  and then we're playing the overdraft game.   It's harder to judge when you have someone else out there needing money, too.  Was he going to need money for cigarettes, gas and food?  Who knew?  Now that I'm the only one spending the money, it's easier to control.  So, no more drastic measures to make sure I have "enough to get my through".  I have found that no matter what, I still always manage to have a couple of extra bucks at the end of payday without floating a check or overdrawing the account or having to exchange the change in my coffee can.  

This last pay period was tough, the kids needed clothes and any extra money I had went to that and the beginning of the month is always a tough time for us, too.  But, I know if I needed to, there are measure I can take.  I find if I tell myself to just hold on, to wait as long as I have to and that if I HAVE to, I can turn in my change, or whatever other thing I have to do.  Just knowing that the safety button is THERE keeps me calm enough to think rationally, to not go into panic mode and do focus on what I DO have and not what I don't have. 

It's hard.  I won't lie.  I know though, it can only get better.  People often ask me if I regret not going to school.  Financially, sure.  Sure, I do.  But, what's done is done and I can't change it now.  School was never my thing anyway.  I would have probably wasted a ton of money and never finished.   There is a movie called "Accepted" with Justin Long.  He is a smart kid in the movie, just not conventionally smart. He gets average grades and doesn't get into any colleges at all.  He tries to spin this to his parents as a positive he says (I'm paraphrasing) "The average cost of college is about 20K a year.  Four years, that is 80K.  The average amount of money a person can make without a degree is about 20K a year.  The way I say it, I could SPEND 80K or MAKE 80K.  Seems like a no-brainer to me." and I TOTALLY get that.  I don't know why.  I just do.   Maybe because I just don't know what I want to be when I grow up, and I until I know for sure, for sure?  I don't see the point in wasting the money.  If I think times are tough NOW?  How would I swing it as a student?

Anyway, another little tip from me, talking about your finances is always tricky. We never want to talk about how much debt we have, how much money we do or (As in my case) we don't have.  It's a very taboo subject.  Growing up, your parents never discussed with you what was in their checkbook.  You never dared take a peek.  You maybe saw your mom scribbling figures on a back of an envelope (My mom did this all the time.) and you saw a worried look on her face, but there was always food, water, clothes and good times. Always.  Talk about it.  At work we had to take a class about some program we offer our members for free and the instructor talked about this very thing.  We hide our finances in shame if we're in a bad spot.  We don't want to look bad in front of our friends and our loved ones.  We don't want them to pity us and we definitely don't want them to judge us.  By talking about it though, it frees you from the stigma of it all.  It allows you to be open and honest with yourself more than anything.  Since adopting the attitude of being honest about my situation, I have had a lot people help me.  Not with money, but with advice, with their own stories, with suggestions and so forth.  People WANT to talk about it, they just feel like they can't.

Even though, I'm so "po' " I can't afford the extra letters in poor.  Even though I'm so poor I can't even pay attention, I am HAPPY.  I know that sounds crazy, but having less money has brought me less stress in the long run.  Having less money, has shown me that little things can make me just as happy as big things and being honest about it as freed me from keeping up with the Jones' , something I struggled with while married.

Saturday, November 5, 2011

The Reason for My Dude Fast

Another weekend alone, and it's been about two weeks since I started my dude fast.  I'm going to explain exactly why I decided to do this.

So, what? Like three weeks ago a relationship I was in ended.  I was upset about it as anyone would be, but not like devastated.  The first weekend I had to spend kid free and alone was kind of hard.  So, there I was bored, lonely and kind of miserable.  No boyfriend, all my friends are married with kids, so no one to hang out with, as they're always with their families doing family things.  I was just down and blue.

Cue That Guy.

I'm not going to get into the history of me and That Guy, but That Guy likes to text me under the pretense of being "friends"   After breaking up with the boyfriend and having a shitty week in general, he texts me encouraging words.  "Chin up!" and all that other shit.  Of course, my wonded ego eats it up.  We had an all day conversation back and forth via text.  Nothing special, just a friends right?  He made hints about coming over, but I just blew them off. Just assumed they were talk, not serious inquiries and even if I had known they were serious inquiries, I would have said no.   Me and That Guy had a one night thing and I have no interest in haivng another night, you know? 

Anyway, he was really there for me, or so I thought.  He made my Saturday a lot better.  More tolerable.  Then Sunday rolls around, and I don't know how we got on the conversation, but he said something like "I asked to come over like four times yesterday." and I answered something kind of passive and whatever and then next thing I know, he's telling me how much he wants to perform oral on me and he doesn't need anything else, we don't have to have sex, just perform oral on me and leave.

I. Was. Pissed!

And offended!

And the truth hit me in the face. 

All that being friendly was bullshit.  BULLSHIT.   He didn't care that I was bummed.  He saw me being bummed as an opportunity to get laid.  He was doing that good guy friend thing as a WAY TO GET LAID.  He was was ok with USING ME.


I told him that anything between us was never going to happen. EVER. He responded with some short, terse answer.  And guess what?  I've not heard a word from him since. Not a single fucking word.  This is a guy that nearly PLAGUED me with messages on a daily basis.  Like, kind of roll my eyes when I'd see he texted.  And now, nothing.  Some friend, huh?

Good Riddance.

(Actually, I just realized after writing this that we're still friends on Facebook.  I fixed that problem)

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

My Dirty Little Secret

I'm not being a parent tonight.

Oh, ok.  Who am I kidding?  Of COURSE I'll be a parent tonight, but I'm gonna really phone it in.  Like, bare minimum, because I'm tired and crabby. *pout*

I've been kind of in a shitty mood, but it's expected around this time, if you catch my meaning.  I feel bad for the kids because they got a LOT of chocolate yesterday and I'm TOTES going to raid their bags when they go to sleep.. See?  I'm being a shitty parent tonight, I told you.

If I had three wishes, I wish I would like vegetables, I liked to clean and I could drink alone.  I know that drinking alone seems weird, but it's something I can't do.  It seems.... sad.  Now, if someone ELSE said they had a glass of wine or a beer alone, I wouldn't think twice about it.  Kind of how I feel about like... kissing another chick.  I don't mind if YOU do it, I just don't feel comfortable with doing it myself, you know? 

Instead of drinking, I sit in my room, alone and in the dark.  I don't do it often, but the kids know if I go right to my room, and leave the light off, I need some me time and they're pretty cool about it.  I have pretty amazing kids who are pretty self-sufficient.  I'm pretty old school.  I'm not your cruise director, your activities organizer or your entertainment.  I fully expect my kids to FIND SOMETHING TO DO.  I think more parents should do this.

Now if the head phones come out, they definitely know I need to be alone.  But, I haven't had a yearning for headphones in... whoa probably six weeks.  I'm kind of proud of msyelf for that.  The headphones are for when I need to drown out EVERYTHING my own thoughts especially.

So, despite my shitty mood right now, which is really only shitty because of biology,  life has been over all pretty decent.   The dude fast?  Best decision... EVER!!  Seriously.  I can't even begin to express how liberating it is to choose not to talk to people.

 Here's the thing, there is a guy who I usually pine away for. I have since the beginning of my seperation.  We had two dates since I've moved back. (One was a date the other.. well.... ahem)  All my friends are like "Seriously, he's a douche leave him alone" and I would defend him and say "Oh, but we're just FRIENDS and I enjoy his FRIENDSHIP and I don't have any illusions about us being a couple."  But, I TOTALLY had illusions of us being a couple.  I'm talking, I had full blown fantasies that felt so real they made my heart ache, illusions about us being a couple.  Then I watched that movie Bridesmaids and the beginning scene where she tells that guy who she is sleeping with that she isn't looking for a relationship either and that she wants what he wants, and he doesn't want her, but he says just enough to keep her hooked?  Yeah, that was me and this guy.

WE had an amazing connection.  We DID, I will never deny that.  The first kiss we shared was probably the best kiss of my life.  Seriously.  The second was just as mind blowing, months later.  The sex?  UH-MAZE-ING.  I really felt this guy was my soul mate.  I still kind of do. (Shut it, Teri!!)  But, just because someone feels like your soul mate, that doesn't mean he's good for you.  Maybe, my soul is in a shitty place, and it's attracted to this kind of shitty guy.  I read about pain bodies, and now I truly believe our connection was our pain bodies, crashing into each other and hanging on.  We were both sad and miserable and it felt GOOD to both of us to know someone out there cared.

I know if he texted me right now, my heart would leap into my throat and I'd want to respond as if I wasn't on the dude fast.  I'd want him to tell me all the funny, sweet things I know he'd tell me, and I know we'd eventually start sexting (really his whole purpose in texting me usually) and I'd feel like shit tomorrow because I fell for it again.  I'd wait by my phone with baited breath tomorrow in hopes he'd throw me some little bone so I wouldn't feel so shitty.  And he probably wouldn't. 

If he were to text me right now, I'd explain to him about my decision to be on this fast of sorts.  He'd be alll "whatever" about it and I'd go on. Because I CAN'T FEEL LIKE THAT ANYMORE.  Especially over a guy who has made it crystal clear that he's just not that into me.

What's amazing to me is that I think I am having a harder time getting over this guy I never had anything with than I did with my ex.  My friends seem to think I use this guy as some kind of crutch, a surrogate "love" because it's easy and convenient and I never have to deal with an actual relationship since there isn't one.  That I feel the need to love, therefore I choose him knowing I can't have them.  I think maybe they're right.

I think that maybe, I can see that now and I'm not doing it anymore.

Saturday, October 29, 2011

I Wish I Could Be One of the Folks That Goes Nuts

The St. Louis Cardinals won the World Series last night.  What was I doing?  I was reading and fell asleep and at ten was woken up by loud fireworks.  I grinned, tried to stop my racing heart and go back to sleep.  Then after about thirty minutes, I got a little old lady shaky fist pissy at the fireworks. I had been up since about five am, worked ten hours, drove the kids to Lemay and back and I was fucking exhausted!!

So, no I did NOT watch the World Series.  If you were to ask me why, I'd say it was because I wasn't allowed to.  This is actually true. I started to watch a game and we lost that game.  Even though I was given "permission" to watch it the 7th game, I cared enough NOT to watch.  Just in case.  I come from a very sports fanatical family and some things have rubbed off on me and had I watched and had they lost?  I would have felt the need to jump off the MLK bridge.  Seriously.  I know it's fucked up. 

But, do I CARE if they won? OF COURSE!!  But, not like most people.  It didn't bother me too much that I couldn't watch.  Because I can't watch.  The sitcom was made for people like me.  Extremely short attention spans, who need constantly dialogue to keep me reeled in for 30 minutes.  I can occasionally do an hour long drama of some sort if the content is interesting.  I have ADD people.  And it's not a thing I say to be cute or funny.  I REALLY have ADD and sports, well unless I am at a game or playing it, I lose interest.  I've always known this about me, so I never get invested into something I know I can't enjoy.  People stopped asking me to sports parties a long time ago because I'm there to socialize, it's people that I'm interested in.  I'd talk through the whole thing.My family always had me over (out of obligation I'm sure) but, both my sisters are in California and my mom developed this weird ritual where she had to watch it alone. Even my dad had to watch it in the basement away from her. Their energy made the game fun and that's when I would like it.

 It's why the only sport I enjoyed playing was basketball.  That is an ADD kids best sport.  There is constant action, tons of running back and forth from offense to defense.  I loved it. 

I'm not trying to be all Darlene McDouchenozzle and be all "Sports are for rednecks" or anything.  I wish I liked them as much as the rest of the world does.  I wanted to watch, just not alone.  I love being around people who REALLY LOVE IT.  Fan actually make me feel a little verklempt. Especially, St. Louis fans because they're fans win or lose.  That's pretty amazing.   They make me see I'm missing out on something, but no matter how hard I try, I just can't get into it.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

The Club Can't Even Handle Me Right

Title courtesy of the song on the radio at this moment.

My whole life right now is based on when I don't have to go into work again.  Is that normal?  I don't know.  I just get up thinking... "Ok, Roark (Because in my head, I'm already Roark)  you have 3 more days until you're off.  Get it together.  Get out of this bed.  Get in the shower and get a move on."  This is after playing sleep math with my alarm clock.   I always wake up about an hour or so before my alarm is supposed to go off.   Then, I turn off the alarm and set the timer for an hour and whatever change is left until I ACTUALLY have to get up.  Then I spend that hour and a half dozing off and on and waking every fifteen minutes hoping I have more time to sleep than I do.  Then around 6:00 I berate myself because, even though I have 30 minutes until I need to get up, I could just go ahead and get up and why lay there wasting time for an extra few minutes of sleep that aren't going to do anything for me anyway.

This is EVERY FREAKING MORNING.  On those rare mornings I actually sleep through until the alarm goes off, my whole day seems off.  I need this crazy, fucked up ritual to set my tone I guess.  I'm weird.

Today is my parent's 35 wedding anniversary and other than Christmas, this is the hardest day for me since my seperation.  It's not like I'm curled up on the floor in the fetal positon, but it's just a reminder that I failed at something that I thought I was good at.   They are like night and day and make it work.  I couldn't.  I suck.  The end.

Yesterday, I had to do something pretty gross.  I had to pull Jonny's loose tooth.  Usually, I do not believe in forcing something like that, but there was something seriously wrong.  The adult tooth was almost all the way out, the baby tooth was like on top of it.  A weird smell was starting to develop.  Now, normal parents would have taken the kid to the dentist.  I'm kind of like my dad. If a home remedy will work, then I'm going to do it.  Why pay someone money for something you can do yourself.  I went back and forth about it.  We tried wiggling it, but Jonathan is do I say this without sounding like a terrible mom?  Cautious?  Yeah, he's cautious.  And if there is a teeny bit of pain, he'd stop.  So it just SAT there.  Finally, I had to do it.  I'm pretty squeamish by most things, so I wasn't even sure I COULD do it.  So, I made him lay down on my bed, and wrapped some dental floss around it, and gave a quick yank, not even very hard, and it came flying out!  Boy, did he bleed.  It was so gross!!  The tooth hit me in the face, and we had a hard time finding it.  When we did, I expected long roots, but there weren't any roots at all. They had disingrated.  I don't even know how it was staying in his mouth to be quite honest.  He cried when he saw the blood, but he does that when the tooth falls out on it's own.  He said it hurt for a second and then stopped.  Today, no weird smell and he says there's no weird taste in his mouth either.

Things we have to do as parents huh?

I'm looking forward to Halloween.  I love walking around with the kids. It's such a fun time.  I know I'll miss Louie on this walk.  Every year I dressed him up.  I miss him more than I can ever express, but it was really the right decision.  Life is  much easier now and I feel a lot less stressed.  But, that little warm body next to me in bed is sorely missed.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Dude Fast. Day One. Then, Other Stuff

Well, day one was easy.  Probably because no one texted or called me.  It may get stickier when that happens, if it happens.  I'll just cross that bridge when I get there.  What was nice is not worrying about why so and so hasn't called or texted, or FUCK why did so and so call or text?  It was stress free and I loved every moment of it.

Anyway, lately I have had a hard time writing.  I kind of made myself commit to try and at least write once a day.  Why?  Fuck if I know. Probably because it's the only hobby I have left in my crazy, hectic life.  Well, I still have reading, but the stuff I read is pure shit.  I mean, I'm re-reading the Percy Jackson series,and loving every moment of it.  Maybe I should clarify, writing is the only "smart" thing I've ever done.  It also keeps me balanced and sane and it gives me something to think about during the day, even though I get about a billion subjects a day I'd like to write about, then I forget.  I've been doing it for years and I enjoy it.  I guess that's why I make myself do it.   It's been my one constant, I don't want to get in the habit of NOT doing it.

The kids are doing well.  Both are doing well in school and seem to be happy for the most part.  Aislinn is definitely turning into a teenager.  She spends a ton of time in her room with her ear buds jammed in her ears acting anti social and angsty.  It's cool.  I get it.  I was the same way.  Was?  No, actually I AM the same way.  Jonathan is in desperate need of some male exposure.  I'm starting to worry.  I think it's great that he loves Lady Gaga and stuff, but it's kind of freaking me out.  I'm actually going to introduce him to the wonderful world of wrestling on Monday.  Just to expose him to some testosterone.  He has had some exposure to manly things, he wants to be John Cena for Halloween, which is what gave me the idea of letting him watching wrestling. 

Everything seems to be going well.  I feel good.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Dude Fast

I used to be an avid low carber.  One day I woke up and I decided I was just done. I was just done with  my dependence on sugar and carbs.  I was done with feeling like shit both physically and mentally.  I don't know what made me make this choice, but I did it and for after 8 months and a 40 lb weight loss, my life was changed forever.  My relationship with food has changed so much.  I used to think about food  Seriously.  Now, I don't thing about it nearly as much.  I eat to survive.  I eat fast food, but only for convenience and I usually don't enjoy it.  Where I used to be super picky about what I ate, now I'll eat something just to fill my belly.  Even though I no longer follow a low carb plan, I still carry the lessons I've learned with me even now.

I bring this up because I've decided to go on a "dude fast". 

My original intent was to go on a "man fast" but a quick google search showed that there is a religious website with that very name. I got far as "sinful sexuality" before I left the site.  So, man fast has lost it's zing to me. I'll go with dude fast.

So, why the dude fast?  I don't know.  I don't want to use the word "dependence" but I think that sometimes, I do have a need to always have a man or two in my pocket.  It's usually under the guise of "just friends" but I realized after this break-up that I was using them to boost my ego. 

One might ask, well what's wrong with that? Sounds like a pretty sweet set up.  Well, I just don't want to want that anymore.  I feel like I can't get to know me until I remove all these penises from my life, at least for a little bit.  It takes about 3 weeks to change or dispose of a habit.  I have proven this several times.  I just want to give myself at least 3 weeks to see if I can change this about myself.  If I can get through a week without having some guy tell me how amazing I am. 

There will be exceptions of course.  My best friend, Mike and my dad of course.  The husbands of my girl friends. Any male family member.

I'm really looking forward to this.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011


My dad made a comment the other day that I must feel right at home with "all those girls".  He was referring to the J-O-B.  He said it and my natural instinct was to say "Nah, not really."  but, my dad did the impossible, I actually paused in my talking and thought and said, with something akin to shock in my voice "Yeah, yeah I do.  Very much"  My dad, is well my dad, and he doesn't really know how I am outside that little house.  He sees me with my mom and my sisters and how we're all BFF-y and stuff, so he just assumed I was comfortable around all women.

This, was not always the case.

I don't know. There was always something about me growing up that screamed "Hey, you popular girls.  Yeah! You!  Yes! With the cool hair and effortless style.... hey.. could you, I don't know?  Terrorize me?"  I reeked of "victim" and let me tell you, girls can smell it miles away.   They're like wolves closing in on a kill.  Girls never work one on one, like boys do.  They work in packs and they will eviscerate you at the slightest whiff of weakness.  I learned very early on that girls should be avoided at all cost. 

Over time, I developed a hard shell to combat other girls.  My whole high school career was spent acting like I didn't care about having friends and shunning any attempt made.  In grade school I was picked on so much, I couldn't allow myself to put myself out there, not realizing I was entering a school where my class had 1,000 kids in it, and that if Betty BoobsAlot  didn't like me, maybe Maggie Mae McJiggletits would.  You don't think about that when you're school life was spent with like the same four girls every year.

 (Random aside, apparently on my phone I've used the term "McJiggletits" before and now my phone wants to auto-correct  anything that starts with Mc to "McJiggletits.  This is my life, folks.  Don't hate.) 

When entering a new school where no one knows you, you have two choices.  You try your damndest to assimilate and make friends and be all YAY FRIENDS! or you can walk around like your shit don't stank and looking down your nose at everyone, and I did just that.  I never pined for friends or anything. Remember, I never really had any, so I didn't know what I was missing.  It was easier to just not have any.  I still get people coming up to me all these years later (and by coming up, I mean like... messaging me on Facebook) telling me how mean I was.  It's kind of embarrassing.

My social circle was the friends that my ex had. He has always been a social creature and I kind of hated that about him.  Because I was so fucking emo before there was such a thing, and I was like "No we SHUN societal norms like friendship and good times and chain restaurants.  We do cool things like wear berets and wear black and snap our fingers at poetry slams because we're too fucking COOL to clap and we then we have dirty, nasty sex." 

I guess I've always been a bit of a hipster.  Shit.

All his friends were, of course, dudes and I was comfortable with that.  Guys are just so fucking honest.  They call each other names, they talk about bullshit that's not life altering.  They never say shit like "Oh My God. No one talk to Bob today ok?  He KNEW I wanted that ball cap and I was saving up the money for it and he went and BOUGHT IT." or anything like that.  They had simple life goals.  They just wanted to smoke and fight and fuck and skip school and hang out at that Burger King on Grand. 

Those same guys suddenly settled down and got girlfriends who eventually turned to wives, and it was hard on me.  It was hard to tread that line.  You don't want to offend the girls, but these were my friends and I wanted to be able to call them  names and make jokes without pissing anyone off.  I was resentful that it was expected of me to now not hang out with my friends, but with their wives just because we had the same plumbing.  I didn't want to talk about cleaning products and diaper cream. 

As I've gotten older though, I find myself hanging more with the ladies.  I realize now that we're adults, that cattiness is still there, but it's not nearly as prevelant as it was when we were kids.  I finally have girlfriends I can call and gossip and laugh with.  Although, my very best friend is a guy, he's really the only guy friend I've held on to over the years.  I have found a lot of girls out there like ME who were picked on, and those girls usually end up being pretty cool.

So, yes dad.  Being at work with the girls is all kinds of fun, and even though I don't regret all these years without girlfriends, because it has made me the person I am, I will most definitely enjoy them now.   

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Cuter Than an Aloof and Disdainful Speckled Pup

The best thing about having your own blog is that you can say whatever the hell you want in it.  I can be as vain and self centered as I want in this thing, because it's my own vehicle to make me feel important and special.   Would you expect anything less from someone who OWNS A BLOG?!?  The word "blog" actually comes from the Ioway tribe's word "bloggia" that means "big blow hard who has nothing better to do"  I'm not lying, but um.. don't google it.

One of the best compliments I ever got was "I had never seen a girl who dressed like that before, who had that style, and I was like WHOA and it made me nervous."  Isn't that a great compliment?   As a fairly attractive woman, who happens to ooze an insane amount of sex appeal (What?  Well, I DO!)  I've heard my fair share of compliments.  Mainly 'You're hot" or "You're smokin' hot" or "You're so damn smokin' hot" or "Damn you're so sexy."  Of course, I get the generic "You look nice."  or whatever.  But, I'm actually to the point of getting insulted by the word hot.  Hot means "I want to get in your hot panties." and I'm kind of sick of it.  Yes, yes I know.  My diamond shoes are too tight and my purse is too small to cram all these $100 bills into it.   Oh boo hoo. she's whining about being called "hot".

Once, I was told that I was "So damn cute" and I was kind of embarrassed by how giggly this made me. I realized that I've never been called "cute" by someone before and it hasn't happened since. Even I know that I'm not, by definition, "cute".  This is not me being down on myself.  I'm more...well anything I say right here makes me sound like an arrogant asshole. So, I'll explain why I'm not cute.  Cute, is like bubbly and petite and heartbreaking adorable and it makes you want to care and protect and handle with kid gloves.  I'm none of those things and I'm ok with that.  So, to know someone saw me, in that moment, as cute.  Well, it just went right to my ovaries and spoke to me in a way I never thought it could. 

I've been told I LOOK cute.  I've had people say something I've DONE is cute, and I've had cute used as a form of sarcasm, as in "Awww look at you developing feelings for me, isn't that cute?"  (for the record, I WASN'T and it STILL HURT.)   Actually, if you had asked me what I would think if a man called me cute, I'd probably roll my eyes and say "gross".  What is this? The '50s? 

So, to be called cute and be all giggly and eyelash fluttery and blushing was kind of shocking.  Yet, fun.  It's very rare when a man can make me feel like I want to be girly,  because even though I know it's ridiculous, I can't help equating girly with vapid and stupid.  That's wrong on my part for sure, and I also feel like I'm not allowing a part of myself out of the bag.   I enjoy my femininity, but I don't know if I'm enjoying it to it's fullest extent.  I wonder if I allow my pride in being a smart girl to squash the cute girl that might need to show herself more so that she can enjoy rainbows and ponies and stickers and

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

My Face Hurts

And it's killing you?  My ex HATED that joke.  Serioulsy, it's the best joke ever.  I can't help it he was plagued with sinus issues and often complained about sinus pain.  I'm not a very sympathetic person as you can see.

Today, everyone in North County was pissed off and they all decided to bank with us today.  Seriously.  People were just all kinds of fired up today.  I figured it would be a pretty easy day.  Coming off a three day weekend, big win last night, beautiful weather. WTF people? 

I know it sounds like I'm complaining, but it was all rather funny.  Like the man who accused me of SNEERING at him. "I didn't like the way you SNEERED at me."   I didn't sneer, I ignored you sir, big difference and thanks for making me feel ugly that you assume this face is sneering.  One guy went on and on about World of Warcraft while my computer decided to be a dick and not work properly.  The sad thing was, even though I've never played, I know enough people that do that I was able to participate in the conversation.  He screamed nerd.  I dig a nerd but even I have my limits.  He was wearing a dragon t-shirt.  'Nuff said.

On top of everything else, my head really, fucking hurts.  I've been pretty lucky as I haven't been  plagued with migraines and headaches much lately.  I remember a time when I would get a migraine like twice a week.  This has to do with allergies and dead leaves and just all around weather related bullshit.  I'll live.  I also wonder if I'm the only person who feels nausous when I'm having sinus pain.  Right now, I want to rip my face off to relieve the pressure and this is after taking 2 sinus headache pill thingies.

Even though I've had two days off where I didn't do much of anything, tonight I'm not doing SHIT.  I plunked some random food on the table, grunted for the kids to eat and I went to my room.  If I think about the pain in my head too much, I'll seriously cry and that will only make things worse.  It makes me wish I had someone to rub my head and tell me I'm a pretty, pretty girl. 

Monday, October 10, 2011

The 34-Year-Old Single Mom

Over the weekend, I watched The 40-Year-Old  Virgin, and by "watched" I mean it was on keeping me company while I messed around on my laptop. 

The first time I watched this movie, really watched it, I'm talking, paid money to have the privelege of watching it at a theater, I was married.  Now, I'm not. So, I'm watching this movie, but not really watching it and I glance up and all of a sudden I sit up and think. "Woah! Woah! WHAT THE FUCK!?!  Is she introducing her kids to him right now?!?  Is she insane?!?"

Then, a bunch of other stuff from the movie comes back to me.  She barely knows this guy, and she asks him what time he's going to pick her up.  She has him over after the first date and he meets the first kid!  She introduces her littlest kid to him after like 4 dates.  Like, I'm sitting there, brain matter on my wall, because my mind is blown right then.

I realize that I might have a differing attitude than most women.  I realized after I  scraped the brain off my wall and put it back in that I've lived in his house for 10 months and never once, NEVER ONCE have I had a man over.  Now, granted I've been on out with like two people since being here, but my point is, I never make it an option.  No one, since I've become single has stayed the night at my house both here and in Virginia Beach (I did have two men over there, both had brief visits)   My KIDS live here you know?   After the guy has left and my kids come home from their dad's I just think they're going to be all "Damn mom.  It smells like ass and cat food in here.  Seriously?  What did YOU do this weekend?  I want to snuggle with you in bed but I don't want to catch your yuck.  Can you change your sheets, please?"

Let's face it, life would be SOOO much easier if I inroduced the kids to a guy I was dating early on.  That would clear up a lot of time for us to hang out.  On weekends I have them, you can come over and watch Disney channel with us and hang out.  On the weekends they're gone, we can do adult fun stuff.  My kids would probably be cool with it.  They took to their dad seeing someone else in stride.  They said it wasn't even weird for them.  They're always asking me if I've gone out on dates or if I have a boyfriend yet (The "yet" always kills me.)

I just can't do that to everyone involved.  It's hard enough to break it off with someone when it's just the two of you. Then you have these kids involved who now have this cool person in their lives and now that person is walking out the door.  Also, for the new person involved, meeting the kids is a big step and often I hear "I stayed a lot longer than I should have because of her kids."  I feel if you wait a bit, make sure that maybe this COULD be going somewhere, then you make that step.  I've heard stories about people waiting a year to introduce the kids. 

Some friends have tentatively brought up the fact that maybe I use the whole "no men over to my house or meeting the kids" thing to protect myself.  You know what?  Probably.  I'm in the protecting myself business and business is always good.   Also, I'm protecting them.  But, yeah I'm probably protecting myself more. 

I'm a pretty cautious person.  I don't believe in investing time, money and energy on something that I haven't researched the hell out of.   I will NEVER be one of those people that goes out and just BAM buys a car, or a dvd player, or a pair of shoes.  My last "impulse purchase" was a $5 hat, which I actually put back, but my mom rolled her eyes and told me I was being ridiculous.  So, it's not surprising that when it comes to who I bring into my life, into my kid's lives, I want to be careful. Take it slow, make sure it's right.  Once I do make up my mind that I want something, be it a car, a dvd player, shoes or a man I'm 100%  sure that's what I want and I move decisively and without looking back.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Gray mist of ambiguity

I have many pet peeves in life.  I can't help it.  I'm just kind of surly that way.  I can't stand men who don't wear shirts while out and about doing daily life things, like mowing the grass, jogging, or tooling (literally, because they're tools) around town in their cars.  Swimming, sleeping, running out to get the mail, those are fine.  I also hate it when  people go on walks, and they're talking on their phone OR and this is another one, drinking a soda.  Like they have on their exercise clothes.  Their purpose was to burn calories.   I hate gum popping, finger snapping,  The list goes on and one.

If I know you though, I can pretty much forgive you anything.  My friend, Ren gave me some dating advice when I first became single.  She said if you start making excuses for them.. RUN.  The problem is though, I make excuses FOR EVERYONE.  I am not so black and white when it comes to the people I know and love.  I see the good and bad in every person and I try to love everyone unconditionally.  The reason I do this is because I know how I can be.  Once I've made up my that I'm tired of making excuses for you,  you've burned your bridge with me.  I'll continue to talk with you, and you might sense a change and you're not quite sure what it's about. Just know it will never be the same.

I hate not knowing where things stand.  I hate not knowing.. a lot. My biggest pet peeve.  I like things to be laid out for everyone involved.  You know how I feel, I know how you feel.  We can all move forward or we can all move on.  It's torturous for me to not know.  The pissiest I get is when I JUST DON'T KNOW.   What time are we meeting?  Whenever?  No, fuck that.  You have to TELL ME. I HAVE TO KNOW.  Because my brain can't function in the gray mist of ambiguity.   It could be that the people I'm dealing with really ARE that open minded about the situation at hand.  You want to come over at 4am?  Come on then.   I'm a recovering control freak and in my head, all the puppies in the world will get eaten by giant, robotic eagles if I am not given specifics.

This is why I suck at dating.

One of the quickest ways a man can burn his bridge with me is to leave me hanging. I can forgive you anything from horrible table manners to insulting my choice in shoes.  I will excuse make for you until the cows come home.   Leave me alone in the gray mist of ambiguity? Drives me insane.  Right off the bat I tell men "Look, if this isn't working out for you at any point. Let me know. Don't just run off and hide Just TELL ME." I get why men do that. Girls, are CRAZY. They've probably have had some girl burst into tears, threaten to kill their pet gerbil, and offer a blow job all at once in hopes that will make it all right again. I have a little more pride than that, I'll wait until I get in my car to cry, and I'll never, ever call you again.  I know better to want someone who has made it clear they don't want me.  That's the key.  Made it clear. 

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Words! I Write Them!

I made the decisions a long time ago that I wouldn't turn this into a "this is how much my ex is a douche bag" kind of a journal.  I have been pretty true to this decision, once I came to it.   I have actually thought about, once again, changing journals.  I'm kind of sick of seeing "With A Side of Hugs" every time I come here.  Not because it hurts me to see it, but because, that's not my life anymore. It's seems so.. esoteric, if I may use a five dollar word.  My life is so much more now than just 'Hurt by my cheating ex."   That part of my life will always be with me, as is all our life experiences, but it's no longer the only thing about me.  I'll admit, for a long time.. it was.  When I see the title, I get a little embarrassed that I started this journal to begin with.  What I can't deny is the fact that it helped.  As always, writing saved me.

Coming up with a new title is probably the hardest part and I don't want to do it.   Seriously.   It would either be super generic like "Sandi's Musings" or something I would find funny in that moment, like  "Words! I Write Them!" or "Lame Sauce!".  Look at all those exclamation points.  I'd be STUCK WITH THOSE FOREVER.  I know my weaknesses and my best work is done on the fly and if I think about it too much, I'll fuck it up. 

Those of you who have been around since the TLOL years (Oh yeah, we're going back bitches TLOL was BEFORE  SheKnows) know how long I've been doing this, and how many times I've switched and how many times I've said I was going to move shit over, and how many times that never, ever happened.   YEARS of shit I've written, lost.  Granted, I'm no Bill Shakespeare,  I'm not even a Dooce or Finslippy, but that was a lot of shit, and it was all relevant to me and I've lost it all through the years.  It's another reason why I just kind of hang around here.  I still have that other one, and again it just sits there, and I keep saying I'm going to move some posts over, at least some of my favorite ones, like Fun Hole Thing.  I still think about fun hole thing and crack up, because if I amuse no one else, I at least amuse myself.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

Wanna See You Wiggle It

On my Facebook feed a lot of women have been posting the picture of the nude, french plus sized model with the story of  the gym that had a picture of  a pretty (and by pretty them mean thin) woman and it said "Do you want to be a mermaid or a whale?"  It's a good story, although I haven't snoped it to see if it's true or not.  I kind of like to think this one is true, so I haven't really felt like bursting my own bubble.

When I first started dating, and I use the term "dating" loosely when applied to like the first six months or so, there came a point when I realized that another man was going to see me naked.

That's when I pulled out a paper bag and tried to if I should breathe into it or put it over my head. 

No, seriously. It did freak me out.  No man had seen me naked in like a bajillion years except my ex-husband.  Oh, and once my dad when he came over to pick up my ex for a fishing trip.  I heard someone trying to find something in the kitchen, it was five am. I went to help, who I thought, was my ex- husband find it, and no.  Dad. GOOD MORNING!!  Gross.

I'll be honest, when I look in the mirror when I'm naked, I'm not pleased by what I see, but I embrace it.  I'm ok with it.  I still hold up girls and think "Ok, you used to be up HERE, and now you're down THERE.  That's unfortunate."  The one plus to having large breasts though is that they were never really UP THERE to begin with.  I was never one of those girls that could walk around without a bra on.  Last time I did that, I was like 11.   My stomach isn't flat.  It's actually quite ugly.  I have a flap.  It's not fat, but it's from carrying 2 babes that ended up being 9 lbs and 9 oz's at 37 weeks and 10 lbs 1 oz at 38 weeks.  So, you know.. there was a lot of stretchin'.  No diet in the world is going to change THAT.  That right there requires surgery.  So that right there?  Isn't something I am too concerned with.  Don't even get me started on my arms.  I hated my arms for many years, then I went and got tattoos on them. Which of course, only brings attention to them.  So, I took something I hated, and made them positive for me, and bam, now I'm all about a tank top, baby.

I have good qualities, I like my white skin (I refuse to tan. I'm quite fanatical about it.) I have nice legs.  My face is pretty, I have cute hair (most the time) and as an overall picture, I'm pretty great.

When I hear stories about how girls can't let their HUSBANDS see them naked, my heart aches for them.  Remember in Bridget Jones' diary when Bridget is trying to get her clothes on under the sheet and then her boyfriened (I forget his name, it was Colin Firth the actor) asks what on earth is she doing, and she says she's getting dressed under the sheet because she doesn't want him to see the jiggly bits, and he replies "But, I like the jiggly bits!" and she stands up, tosses off the sheet and stands there in full glory?  More girls need to do THAT.

If a guy asks you out on a date, or even better asks you to MARRY him. He wants to see you naked! Sure, soceity bombards us with these images of super smoking hot women, and a  lot of guys (I've dated a few) have no problems telling you how they'd wreck those chicks if they could.  Unfotunately, those women aren't looking to bang some guy with a normal job and a normal house and a normal car and a normal way of life.  I mean, they COULD, I shouldn't say never.  But, come on.  Even guys know it's not happening. I like to think a real guy, ultimately wants a REAL woman.  Jiggly bits and all. 

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

To My Limit

This morning I allowed myself a rare moment of despair.  I couldn't help it and it isn't something I do often, so on occasion, I like to indulge myself a few tears.  A few sniffles.  A few minutes of pure sadness.

I've had a lot of sadness lately.

Then, to my surprise, it hit me again in the waiting room at the Dr. office.  This time, it was brought on by a friend's kindness that came out of the blue. Although, I could not accept his offer of help, I appreciated that someone out there in that moment, was looking out for me.

I know that I'm an adult, and my life is my responsibility.  I'm doing the best I can, even though I don't think it's enough.  I've fallen into a black cloud of sad, and I don't know how to get out.  I'm not talking about depression or laying in bed all day, crying. Just sad.  Everything I do is colored blue.  I hate it.  Which makes me more blue.

I've tried to fake positivity in hopes of getting out of it.  I'm sure it's purely PMS related, but that doesn't negate the fact that it's been a rough couple of days.

When I first moved here, my thoughts were that I just needed to get through the first year here, and I'd be good.  I thought I'd be divorced already, I thought me and the kids would have settled into a good routine, I thought possibly, I could be in love by the end of the first year.  But, here it is, almost 2 months shy of the one year mark, and my life is slightly worse, I think.

I'm going to go for a walk, and I'm going to try and clear my head and I'm going to count my blessings while doing so.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

I'm Having A Bad Week

So, you know what that means!!  A TWO-FER!!  Two posts in one day.  Lucky, lucky internet. 

Yeah, last week wasn't so great.   Usually I can hold it together.  Portions of my week might be crap, but with some glue and tape and keeping my wits about me, I can usually keep it it together.  This week, well I think I wrote it off around Wednesday and anything shitty that happened after that I was all "Bring it on, life.  Yes, Sir may I have another? Yes SIR May I have another? YES, SIR MAY I HAVE ANOTHER!! YESSSS!!" 


I'm trying REALLY hard to be upbeat and optimistic about this coming week, because if I'm all Debbie Downer about everything, then I'm afraid Karma will say "Oh you think THAT was bad?  You think your ex going through your stuff  while you were at work was terrible?  You think breaking it off with your boyfriend was shitty?  You think getting a call from the school about Aislinn's tardiness was awful?  You think Jonny breaking the tv was crap?  You think your baby sister leaving for California was devastating?  You think fighting with your daughter every morning was horrible?  You think your son blaming you for the divorce was gut wrenching? You think having to work with a dude that burps all day long is aggravating?  Well GUESS WHAT, BITCH?


I wake up with a penis.

*Insert horror movie scream here*

Just Call Me Boof

I'm that girl in the 80's movie. You know which one. I'm Boof from Teen Wolf, I'm Rina from Lucas. I'm that girl that is always fun to hang around with, who is always there with a funny one liner to back you up.  I'm the girl that rarely makes demands.  That is too shy to show you, or tell you how I feel.  Who stands aside while you take her for granted while you have your eyes set on that hot, blonde cheerleader, and who will always be there when she turns you down.  Unfortunately, real life doesn't work that way and usually the blonde cheerleader isn't the worry, it's other shit that's even more insulting.  A hot, blonde cheerleader I could understand. 

I realize that I'm a disadvantage when it comes to dating.  I haven't really ever done it.  I immediately hooked up with my future ex husband at the ripe old age of 15 and never looked back. At 15 you don't have any baggage.  You haven't been hurt by anyone.  Now I'm dealing with people who have baggage that can be as old as my youngest sister.  Myself, included.

 I find myself suddenly thrust into this world.  I feel awkward enough in general life, add a romantic element, and damn I'm fucked.  Logically, I know I'm an attractive girl, and that I have good qualities I bring to the table.  I'm funny, smart, honest, laid back and pretty undemanding. I am  about as "non girl" as you can get, without wearing flannel shirts and Birkenstock sandals. Even with my "non girl" attitude, I dress like a lady, opting for skirts and dresses most the time.  I never show off the tittays or wear anything slutty in general.  I'm pretty go with the flow. I can hold a decent conversation, I can keep up, and I'll listen to your bullshit all day, as long as you reciprocate my need to talk about X-Men (Why? Why? Why do I bring them up so much? It's SOO dorky. SO dorky. But, BOTH SIDES ARE RIGHT!  And only Logan treads the grey area!  See?!? See?!? It's a sickness.)  My downfall is that once I feel comfortable with you is when all this shows up.

I am not good with meeting new people out in the real world, and I'm attracted to men who aren't either.  So, the chances of me, meeting a guy on the street, and either of walking away with a phone number are miniscule, at best.  Once, I went to a club and was with a bunch of girl friends.  There was a guy.  I'll call him Blue Shirt, becuase he had on a blue shirt and that's what we called him all night.  Anyway, Blue Shirt was way interested, and you know, we made the eyes at each other, we awkwardly stood next to each other, we even danced a bit.  Then he left.  He was waiting for me to make a move, and in my head, I'm a girl, YOU do it, asshole and that was that. 

This is the story of my dating life. Don't even get me started on QT guy.  I was near bloated with ice tea by the end of that three month, awkward non flirting fest.

I'm shy and awkward, with the added bonus of being slightly aloof and way cynical.  I made a move ONE time and was soundly rejected.  It was embarrassing, so I get it why guys don't like to make a move, especially the slightly awkward, intellectual types I go for.  Sure, some juice head, with spiked hair, orange skin, and girl sunglasses ( THOSE ARE GIRL SUNGLASSES, ASSHOLE I don't care what they fuck they wear on Jersey Shore) can make a move, but I would immediately shut them down.  Then, they'd be all "Well, you're not cute enough to tell me no." and then I'd be all "Well, you just got turned down by an ugly girl then, sucks to be you, Homie."   Then we'd dance fight and it would be epic.

Saturday, October 1, 2011

"No One Is Happy Who Does Not Think Himself So"

This morning, me and the kids had leftover chinese food for breakfast, and we decided to dive into the fortune cookies.  Jonathan got one that said "No one is happy who does not think himself so."  Of course, being a kid, he thought it was lame and just kind of tossed it aside.  He asked me what it meant, and I tried to explain it to him.  He's a smart kid and he got it, but again, to him it was boring, therefore he wasn't interested.  I'm sure he was hoping his fortune would say something like "Today, Kirby will come to your house and be your bestest friend!" (Jonny is OBSESSED with Kirby from Nintendo. He's never even played a Kirby game, I don't know how this can be.)

It's the truth though.  If you WANT to be happy, at first, you have to fake it till you make it.  I know this from experience.  A few years back, those of you who know me, I decided to be happy... even if it was going to kill me, and as it went against everything I was so used to, it almost did.

I am very susceptable to negative energies.  Now, I'm not trying to get all new age-y or anything, but if there is a hint of negative, the teeniest whiff,  my attitude pounces on it and goes nom nom nom.  Before, I would then add into the negativity with my own.  Now, I just get annoyed because I've tried to practice being a happier person.  I stay in my own "zone".  I get quiet and I do my own thing.  We all complain from time to time, we all need to let off steam, but, there comes a point where you put up or shut up, and when someone gets to that point and doesn't do either, I power down.  The funny this is, when this happens, all of a sudden I'm being "grumpy".  No, I'm just protecting myself.

I'm not saying I'm this, totally self aware, enlightened being, but I made the realization a LONG time ago, that I am the cause of most of my problems, as most people are.  Sure, there are situations where the other person is the CAUSE of your pain, but then eventually, you have to make the decision to get over it.  Getting over it is hard, but getting over it you must. 

 People who are experiencing heart ache from a failed marriage or a failed relationship, almost always immediately blame that other person.  It's natural.  I did it, too.  Peace never comes though, until you can sit down and think about how you contributed to the demise of that relationship. We've all heard the phrase it takes two to tango.  Maybe you weren't the best you in that relationshio. Maybe you were selfish with your time or affection or maybe you should have never gotten into that relationship to begin with, for whatever reason.  I really believe you can't have a truly lasting relationship with someone else until you confront your own mistakes to make sure you don't do it again.  It's natural to blame that other person, but over time, if months have passed, years have passed, and you can't let it go, you need to go look in the mirror. 

Thursday, September 29, 2011

I Think We're Alone Now...

The first time I moved out on my own and by "on my own" I mean in some weird flop house on the south side with friends with a way too lenient mother,  I was 17.   I had graduated from high school early, and the relationship between me and my dad had deteriorated to the point of being toxic for the both of us.  He had completely stopped talking to me and if he DID need me for something, he would have my mother tell me, even if I was standing right there. 

So, I packed up my stuff in the middle of the night and got in my car,  put the car in neutral and rolled backwards down the huge hill we lived on and I was GONE, baby.  I don't remember how long I was actually out of my parents house.  I'm thinking about six weeks or so.   It wasn't exactly liberating or fulfilling.  I did find my first full time job while I was "on my own" and I even worked a full and part time job during this time and tried to be an adult.

 I eventually moved back once I realized I was living in a house full of crazy people.  I lived with my parents for a few months, but at this point I had tasted the sweet nectar that is freedom, so it wasn't that long after I moved out on my own again.  This time, with my boyfriend, who I later married.  Once he joined the Navy, it was a lot of moving then.  There were a few times I did make it back to my parent's house.  Mainly, during deployments and stuff like that, staying with them for a few months because the thought of being alone while pregnant, or alone with a toddler, was too much for me imagination to take.  Thoughts of cracking my head open because I slipped in the tub and my little toddler trying to wake me up, feeding me cheerios and tracking little bloody footprints everywhere for days on end, always got the best of me. 

For a good portion of my adult life, I lived away.  900 miles away, with no family support and I got used to that.  I was super awesome at TCB.   When you have no one to depend on but yourself, you have to be.  I was good at it.  If a problem arose, I took care of it.  Add to the fact that a lot of my marriage was spent with him gone overseas, I really had to bring it.  It was just me and the kids, almost all the time and I liked it that way.  I've always been an independent person, always doing things my way, so I was ok doing all this stuff without help.

Today, Aislinn called me from a neighbor's house because she left her key at home.  I went to my boss, told her, counted down my drawer and left an hour early to fix this situation.  It wasn't even until I got half way home that I realized that I could have called my mom who lives like 3 minutes away to help us out.  The thought just never crossed my mind.

I have to remember that I am HOME now, and there are so many people who can help me.  I don't HAVE to do it alone. I'm just so used to it, I don't know any other way.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

What Keeps Me Sane

I am not a social creature in general.  I could easily spend an insane amount of time alone and at home, reading a book and keeping minimal contact with everyone via email, Facebook, texting and Yahoo chat.  There is a reason I have always taken so well to online friendships.... they don't require much work.

 Electronic communication keeps you from vomiting stupid onto the laps of others for the most part.  You can think and rethink, edit, delete and restructure before you hit send.  For someone like me, who quite regularly says the wrong thing at the wrong time, it's perfect.   The Internet gave awkward nerds like me something they never really had before, a social life.   On top of all that, I'm lazy and have a low tolerance for people in general.  I fail quite regularly at being a friend and I know this.

I don't have many deep friendships. (Shocking!) Yet, the friends I do have, I love with all my heart and they know this.  Here in St. Louis I have a small, core group of friends.  There are people that float on the peripherals, but for the most part there are six people here in this city that I love them and their families like my own blood.
Since being back they have supported me in so many different ways, from letting my interrupt valuable family time when I needed to just be around people, to making me laugh when laughing was the last thing I thought I could do.  I've been the 5th wheel and at times the 7th wheel and I'm welcomed with opened arms each time.  I have trapped them in a room with me while I've been totally shit faced drunk and crying.  They've said the right words at the right times and have wanted nothing for me but happiness.  They inquire about my children, they inquire about my job, they inquire about my love life, and if there is no love life to inquire about, they encourage me to at least go get laid.   We may not spend every weekend together, but when we do spend time together, it's always fun, it's always like we've talked everyday since our last get together.

My family is important to me, sure.  But, I think as humans, we were made to leave the comfort of our familial trappings to make our own way in this big, bad world.   You make your friends, not to replace your family, but to supplement that feeling of family, without the heavy baggage that sometimes comes with family.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

File This Under "F" for Freaky

I made the decision to go to bed about an hour ago, and in true "me" fashion, have yet to make it there.  There is always stuff to do that keeps you from sleep.  Last minute Facebook checks, Yahoo conversations started while doing last minute Facebook checks, Words with Friends games to be played and then replayed, and then replayed again. 

After ending my Yahoo chat with Teri, I got up to turn off lights and all the other before bed minutiae that you have to do, because if you don't all the kittens in the world will die.  As I was walking out of the room, I saw an odd piece of paper on the floor.  It was a page from my wedding guest registry book.  I seriously haven't seen that book in years. I don't even know where it was stored or where it was or that it had even made it to Virginia the second time around much less here to St. Louis.  It kind of freaked me the fuck out.  Why?  Because today would have be my 14th wedding anniversary.  As we're still legally married, I guess it would still be my anniversary.

Now, I had a shitty day today, but none of that had anything to do with it being my anniversary.  My shitty day mainly was caused by my eldest child and the fact that I know deep down she is still PISSED about something that happened at her birth. I'm not sure what, but she has maintained this level of pissiness since that day, so I can only assume I did something to upset her.  Some weird "Oh God there is a 9 lb thing coming out of my hoohoo" faux pas that I am unaware of.  She does, but she has yet to share what it was I did, so I remain clueless.    Maybe it's the fact that I use the word "hoo hoo" who knows?

The point I'm trying to make, other than my daughter terrorizes me on a daily basis, is that I noted what day it was, sure.  But, I didn't really have much emotion about it.  Maybe a twinge of sadness, but not really.   No moping, no deep introspective contemplations,  no crying, no weeping, no getting choked up when love songs would play on the radio. Maybe it's because I had daughter shit on the brain all day, but probably it's because it just doesn't mean anything to me anymore and probably never will.  Now, it's the day I didn't listen to my instinct when it told me to run.  ( Just FYI to anyone out there.. if you think "What the fuck am I doing?" right before walking down the aisle, the chances of that feeling reconciling itself in later years are slim.)  

What DOES interest me about this little piece of paper is that 14 years ago, some people I loved, but mainly people I don't even see anymore, touched this paper.  They came to Spanish Lake to see the beautiful beginning of a new family come to life.  As they wrote their names on this sheet of paper they felt happiness for the new couple, they were there because we will always believe in love and hope and unicorns and cotton candy clouds and free food and booze. 

So, what is the Universe trying to tell me today with this sheet of paper?  Well, what I'm going to take from it is that people come and go from your life as is indicated by this piece of paper  The marriage connection is obvious.  Was married, now not, here's some proof that I was, life moves on, turn the page blah blah blah.  But, if you look at the paper, you will see names that I don't recognize AT ALL, yet they were somehow connected to me enough to take time out of their busy lives to celebrate with us. Yet, I couldn't tell you who these people are.  There are also names on there who are very near and dear to me.  I giggled when I saw Christy Owens.  I have plans to see her after many years this very Saturday.  There is the Loftus family, and I just went to Karrie's wedding reception in July and I think I signed a similiar book there. (Or I saw it and forgot to do it, that's sounds like something I'd do)  There are friends of my mom who we don't speak to anymore, friends of my sister's who she may only speak to through Facebook if at all.  There are my friend's parents who I adore to this day. 

Whatever.  Or maybe it's just a fucking old book and my kids found it and had no idea what it was and used it to draw pictures in and there is no big "lesson" to be learned.  I could be making mountains ouf of mole hills for my own entertainment purposes and to have something to write about.  I wouldn't put it past me, I mean I did wear WHITE on my wedding day. It's obvious I can't be trusted.

But, you have to admit.. it was pretty fucking weird.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011


In the overall scheme of things, I do not regret moving back here, mainly because my family is here, my friends are here, I'm FROM here. I get to gorge of T. ravs and have "china man" again. I can say the word hoosier and have people get what I'm saying. When I was away I missed it, but in a very "One time at band camp" kind of way. When I would visit Mel, being a native St. Louisan herself, we would wax poetic about all the shit we missed but we both agreed we'd never move back.

I had made it pretty well known to my family and friends that moving back was not an option. We'll come see you at Christmas, and if there was money, during the summer to go floating, that was it. Friends and family had come to terms with it and were ok with it. I had removed the city from my heart and was ok in doing so. I had pretty much removed the nasally accent from my mouth and had looked forward to bigger and better things.

Then the shit hit the fan, and I came back with my tail between my legs and an Old Vienna chip on my shoulder. All that trash talking I did about never moving back here weighed heavily on me, and I felt like a failure. Basically, I came running home to my mama when the world kicked my ass and I couldn't handle it, and I kind of hated that about myself. That I couldn't hack it in the end.

Over the last 8 months, I've come to terms with being back in the Lou, but I still don't feel like "me" here and I kind of miss that old me. She was kind of a happenin' chick. I made a promise to myself that I would not allow being here to affect how I felt about me. That I would remain me no matter where I rested my head at night. I'm getting there. I realize I'm holding an unjust grudge against this drinking town with the baseball problem. I'm punishing the city for sins it did not commit.

I'll get over it eventually, because the other option, moving, is not one. Now that I am here, I am here for good. I don't think I could so easily give up my family and friends a 3rd time. No matter what I feel about being here, they all make it worth it. Even when that nasally accent creeps into my voice and I die a little on the inside.

Monday, August 29, 2011

Sharing is Caring

Somethng interesting happened to me the other night, something that took me quite by surprise.

I turned off the light, turned off the television, get snuggled in under my covers, my usual bed buddies with me, laptop, phone and extra pillow to block out the morning sun, all within reach for when I needed them.

It was dark, it was cool, it was..... lonely.

I was struck by a momentary pang of loneliness. For the first time in almost two years, my bed felt empty. I had the thought that having someone to lay next to wouldn't be such a bad thing. That maybe, having someone to reach over and touch would be kind of nice.

A friend of mine recently got divorced and he had a hard time adjusting to sleeping alone. I honestly did not understand his point of view on this especially considering he spent the last few months sleeping on the couch in the basement. He'd say "Man this bed is so big, I hate this." and I'd think, damn what a cry baby. If it's too big, sleep diagonal just because you can, man! Sleep spread eagle, sleep fucking sideways. OWN IT. BASK in it, learn to LOVE being in a BED ALONE. Because I know I did.

Maybe because I slept with *gag* a snuggler for so many years, I was all too willing to sleep alone. Maybe because I was a miliary spouse, I was used to it. Maybe I'm just a cold hearted bitch and insanely selfish. I'm all about personal space in general, especially when I'm ready to sleep. Maybe I'm just ok with being alone in general and I never saw sleeping alone as anything out of the ordinary. It just wasn't something I missed... until that moment that came quickly and passed just as quickly, but yet it stuck with me and made me think.

In that quick moment, I felt a longing I hadn't experienced in a long time. Instead of making me said though, it made me feel.. alive and kind of normal. Believe it or not, it was rather cool.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

"I Want to Learn How to Blow Shit Up With My Mind."

Well, hello there little online journal. This is ummm... kind of awkward. But, um yeah, I've been having a bit of a fling. He means nothing to me. Seriously, my sweet little online journal. He was just so old skool. (You know he's legit, I mean I used a "K" in school er I mean, skool) Yes, I've been writing my thoughts down on... PAPER. I know! But, I miss you! I miss the clickety clack of the keys, the way I can actually read my thoughts after I've written them.

I was weak. I was seduced by the smell of ink, the scratchings of a pen, the way I could furiously scribble out my inner most thoughts in my horribly unintelligible handwriting that only a crazy person or a doctor of medicine could possess. Please take me back. I love you.

Honestly, there are many reasons I didn't feel like writing. I didn't want to turn this thing into a "Today I had waffles for breakfast..." kind of a journal. Also, a few weeks back I was doing a lot of article writing which kind of ruined the whole "writing my thoughts out for shits and giggles" aspect because it took something I loved and made it a fucking chore, and you know how much I fucking hate chores. Yet, I would do the article writing again in a heartbeat because shits and giggles don't pay the bills people. Trust me, I tried.

The biggest factor to not writing is that I no longer have 24 hour access to my laptop anymore. I had to have a laptopectomy once I started the new job. Before, if ever I had a mad ranting pop into my head, I could sit down and pound it out (heh I said "pound it out") in two minutes and be done. Now, I get a thought, I have to like remember to write it down on some random scrap of paper and hope I remember what "punching people in the face" meant later on and if I did remember, I hoped I had enough energy to put it together. That's where pen and paper came in. Usually, I'd write at work when it was slow and I was just thoroughly annoyed with my co-worker. It was a good way to look busy so he'd leave me the hell alone and stop telling me the things God wanted me to know about my life. My good intentions of then transferring it all into type always remained just that.. good intentions.

Honestly though, I haven't had that much going on in my life. I've been busy, keeping my nose clean and to the grind and there isn't anything fun about that. I'm happy. I've had to make some tough decisions in the last few months and those are all behind me now. I am amazingly content with my life right now. I've gone out and done a lot of fun and new things in the last few weeks thanks to new people that have come into my life. I've also let go of some people who weren't adding anything positive to my life. It's funny when I let those kind of people go, life has a way of bringing people in who are better for my psyche. I guess that's how it works.

Sure, there are some moment when I have to repeat my mantra "Everything in this moment is as it should be" over and over until I can breathe again, but that's just my natural leanings toward anxiety kicking in. That will never go away and I know that. I can't change that about myself. I've been this way since I was a child and as an adult I'm finally finding ways to get over that panicky feeling.

Divorce update for those wondering.. papers filed, just waiting to be served. Yes. Still. I had to check "married" on some paperwork the other day and I cringed. But, I guess having a line for "seperated almost 2 years because of some fucked up Virginia law that made us wait a year, and then we had to move, that set us back another six months and the papers are in the courts, just waiting to be served but I FEEL divorced" would take up too much room.

Monday, July 4, 2011

Hello June. Good-bye June.

My monthly horoscope said this was how my June was going to be....

For Scorpions planning on traveling, be prepared for delays. Scorpions find relationships positive this next and for the following year. Single Scorpions may find themselves getting involved in a new romance. Money matters shine this month with the possibility of an increase in family funds. Several sources may be involved. Be cautious with credit, especially on the 10 th. Not a day for shopping.

Fuck you, June. That's not how that shit went down at all.

On a whole though, I guess June wasn't SO bad. I mean it flew by! Did anyone else notice that? I mean, it was like June 1st then it was like blink! July 1st. Aislinn starts school in like SIX WEEKS. I just can't believe it.

What can I say about what is going on in my life? Not too much. I've been here just over six months. I'm adjusting as well as I can. Started working in Febuary, so I've only been a working mom for about four months. It's just amazing to me, how much my life has changed. I can't really say I've accepted all gracefully. I've done some kicking and screaming along the way. I could be doing better, but isn't that the truth for everyone? Please, someone.. tell that yes, even for Oprah, it could be better?

Fine. Whatever.

I have been going through a lot of emotions. Worry, fear, isolation, loneliness. The lonliness is the worst. I don't even mean, like lonely for a dude, just lonely in general. Everyone is off busy doing their things, and I'm just here at home, every other weekend, watching Cake Boss marathons and plucking my eyebrows. I know that deep down that's what I NEED to be doing for the most part, but I also need to try and put myself out there.

That's what this whole transitioning period is about. I'm doing things I never thought I could do. One thing I've always sucked at is making and maintaining friendships. So, that's my next step. I don't know how I will do this, but I will.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Life's a Garden. Dig It

Today at work the assistant branch manager at the fancy pants branch, (The one I work two days a week while my home branch is closed) asked everyone for inspirational quotes for the break room. I was all "LAME" because inspiritional quotes are great, but a lot of the time, they go in one ear and out the other, or in the case of them being pasted all over our break room, in one eye and out the other. Sure, some of them make me go "Hmmm yeah, ok I get it." but then I go back to my Words with Friends games and my pathetic QT lunch that consists of a jalapeno cheddar bite with mustard, a bag of Cheetos and a 32 oz unsweetened ice tea with crushed ice and one packet of Splenda. None of which I will finish before my hour is up, except for the list of WwF games. (Yeah I've had major loss of appetite lately but hey I'm skinnier!)

As a joke, I proposed the "Life's a garden. Dig it" quote and well, it's stuck and will now proudly go up on the wall at work as an inspirational quote. When you think about it though, it's a great sentiment. It's easy to remember, and really life IS a garden and you SHOULD dig it. Every garden is hard work, you have to cultivate it, pull weeds, water it, love it, care for it, and the end result is something pretty fantastic. If you neglect it, well you just have a patch of dirt full of weeds that has become the litter box for all the stray cats in the neighborhood, with the occasional Hep C covered needle thrown in for funsies.

I'm trying to dig my garden. I'm getting there. With each passing day, my life gets a little bit less restricted, my breathing a bit easier. The funny part about it is that right now is probably the most stressful time and it's probably going to get nothing but harder in the coming months. I knew this time would come, and I'm semi prepared for it surprisingly enough.

I feel a change in me. I mentioned before by how shocked I was that I still hurt from this whole experience. Acknowledging that has done wonders for me, and I see I wasn't ready to acknowledge it until recently.

Being vulnerable is hard for me right now. I cried on the phone with a very good friend the other day and was truly mortified, even though I know my friend was probably thinking "Christ, it's about fucking time you psycho." Because I can't allow myself to go there. I don't know why. I can't expose my tender underbelly to anyone just yet. Friends and family get glimpses here and there, but I seem to be in full on protection mode. That's ok, but I do miss feeling with abandon.