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.