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.