Sunday, July 15, 2012

All About Boobs

Yesterday, I was sitting at a table with 8 other people, joking around and having dinner. We were in a room full of men who had just finished a golf tourney. Someone made a joke about how I should hit on the guy who'd just bid $200 on a round of golf at some country club because he had money. (For the record he bid against himself twice, which indicicated to me he was probably bad with his money)  Then as it always does when dating is discussed, the conversation turned to my boobs and how I, once again, have them covered.

My best friend is a guy and he insists that the best way to get a man is to show off some cleavage.  We have gone back and forth about this for a few months.  I decided to settle it once and for all and show him that he was WRONG.  There were two other girls at the table.  I knew they'd have my back, even if the guys didn't.  Imagine my dismay when everyone, ladies included,  all nodded and shrugged as if to say "Well duh of course!"   My arms immediately crossed my chest to hide my knockers and I blushed. 

I am a bigger girl now, but even when I was a skinny little whip of a thing, I had big boobs.  They were always a source of embarrassment for me.  I went to a military school and I DETESTED the days we had to wear the "salt and pepper" uniform, which consisted of tight ass pants and an even tighter white shirt. (Although, looking back I wonder if my shirts weren't given to me too tight by the old Navy Chief that ran the Supply)  I was mortified that my buttons always strained to stay closed no matter how many times I traded it in for a new one.  It was like the damn thing was MADE to shrink, but when they fitted you for it, they never took shrinkage into consideration!

Then as I got older and I got bigger, my boobs did, too.  That comes with a whole other set of problems.  I tried (and still try) not to be a "typical fat girl" and in my opinon, typical fat girls show off their tits because they have no other physical attribute that any man would want other than those.  Even writing out that sentence, I see how stupid that sounds.  Yet, that's how I feel and I don't know how to change it.  Now, it's worse that I'm single.  When I was married, I would occasionally show off some boobage because my husband liked it.  I feel if I do it now, I'm just another single and desperate girl trying to do whatever it takes to get a man to talk to me.

Also, there is something wholly unsettling to know that maybe the reason my future husband to be talked to me was because I have huge boobs.  I want him to come talk to me because I have a nice smile, or he liked my laugh and he wanted to make me laugh again.  Maybe he thought I had beautiful or hair, or hell, nice legs.  He thought my wit was sparkling and my eyes shone like the moon.   Anything BUT my boobs.

I've tried recently to let them out, so to speak, and I can't do it.  One day I had on a cute dress, and some cleavage and I thought "Ok, I'll go like this and if I feel weird being out of the house this way, I'll put this tank top on underneath."   That's right, I brought a tank top with me, just in case.  I got to my mom's house and I immediately put it on.

I realize that this is another form of self loathing that all women experience in one way shape or form.  I value in myself my intellect and my humor.  I like to be center of attention because my brain makes me so, not the two large lumps of flesh on my chest that I had no say in. 

I don't even know what to do about this.  I've had several people tell me I need to loosen up about this, my father included.  Girls seem to think this is a no brainer and these are smart girls who are not at all skanky!!

What this all boils down to is being a 30 something single lady really blows.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

And it was Exactly What it Needed to Be

Your journey has molded you for your greater good.
And it was exactly what it needed to be.
Don't think that you've lost time.
It took each and every
Situation you have encountered
to bring you to the now.
And now is right on time
~Asha Tyson~
A friend of mine sent me this yesterday and I love it and I love that someone knew I needed a reminder.  She sent me a picture of this on a card and I cropped the picture and used it as the wallpaper on my phone so I could see it and remember it and try to keep it to heart when I feel stressed.
A lot of my stress is self-inflicted because I've gotten away from my reaffirming statements that I relied so heavily upon when I was going through major stuff.  I guess I figured that because my problems seemed small in comparison to the big problems from before, that I didn't need to remind myself to remain positive, live in the moment and never look back.  The thing with little problems is that they have a tendency to multiply and next thing you know you're unknowingly being suffocated by them.
I'm going to try harder to live in the moment and to remember that this moment is how it should be.  Always.  Nothing changes that.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Being Mom

I think once you become a parent, your automatic default emotion is guilt.  Pure guilt.  Before you had kids, the only person you were screwing up was yourself.  You'd dust yourself off and keep moving.  Yet, now you have to not only keep yourself alive and fed you have to do the same for these other little people who can NOT do it themselves.  If I'm hungry, I eat. If they're hungry, I feed them.  If I don't.... you know.. they like, get taken from you and given to people who WILL feed them.

That's a lot of pressure.

From the moment your children are brought forth into this world,  you have to put yourself on the back burner and focus on them.  Some people are great at this, some aren't.  The majority of us I think, float somewhere in the middle.  We do some things right, we do some things wrong.  No matter what we do, right or wrong, we still feel guilty.

This doubles I think once you become a single parent. There are a whole slew of extra things that other married parents don't have to think about.  This isn't a "Yeah single moms rock!" kind of thing I'm getting at. All moms rock.  Most dads do, too.  I just find myself thinking about things to worry with the kids that I've never worried about before.  Is Jonathan afraid of everything because his dad isn't around as much as he was before?  Is Aislinn going to hook up with some grease ball asshole when she goes to high school because I wasn't there for her like I should have been during her teen years?  Will they end up on a therapists couch saying things like "My mom did the best she could, but it wasn't enough.  She wasn't THERE for me." 

This all came about because last night, during MY weekend with the kids, I went to dinner.  Not even with a guy. I went to an adult only dinner with my family.  I felt terrible the whole time.  I felt like I ripping them off of quality time with mom, even though they live with me and spend most their time with me anyway, even though I never plan things when they're with me usually, even though had I stayed home, we wouldn't have done much of anything anyway.

I don't know what I'm really trying to say here. I think I'm trying to say that I'm trying and I hope the kids can see that. I also see that sometimes, I could probably cut myself some slack. Today, we didn't go anywhere or do anything special. We all just did our own thing. I did some cleaning, some reading and they did whatever. It was quiet, it was peaceful. I felt like shit. This is something I never worried about being a married stay at home mom. I never worried about spending every free moment doing fun stuff.  Realistically, I know that it's impossible to keep them entertained 24-7, if anything because of the amount of energy this would take and lets not even talk about the impact it would have on my wallet.

I have really great kids.   I'm still trying to find my bearings in life and I'm trying to keep them from being collateral damage in what me and my ex screwed up, yet they take all this in stride like champs.   It's been two years and with each passing month, life seems to even itself out.  I'm still trying to figure out what I want out of life and what I need to do for myself to be a better person, woman and mom.  I try to focus on the good things I've managed to accomplish with the help of family and friends.  Yet, I still walk around, waiting for the other shoe to drop and the floor to come out from under my feet.  It's an awful way to feel and I know the kids feel it, too.

Without them though, I'd be nothing.  I'd have nothing.  I love them more than words can express and I want them to know that.  Our divorce has changed them for the positive, too.  Both of them thank me profusely for taking them to the pool yesterday despite my rules before going. (If you ask for food, we're leaving. If you ask for a soda, we're leaving.  If you say you're bored and there is no one to play with, we're leaving!)   They now appreciate the small things like going to Five Guys Burger and Fries for dinner for great report cards, when in the past fast food was expected anytime we left the house.  A trip to the library is cause for great excitment!

I know that no matter what life throws at me, I'll get through it, because I have to for them.  I may not get through it gracefully, but even if I get through it kicking and screaming and crying, I did it.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Bringing in the New

My last post got me thinking about what I can do to make something new happen.  I believe that you get what you give, and I know I'm stuck in my comfort zone.  I've been racking my brain and I can't think of anything.  What do I want to do?  I don't know.  I really, really don't know and this scares me, because it means I really am THAT boring.

I'm doing what I like to do.  I read.  I watch tv.  I play on Facebook. I read some more.  I play Words with Friends.  I read again.  I look forward to my trips to the library and I enjoy sitting on my couch, cup of coffee by my side and a good book in my hands or with my kids and mom doing whatever we found to do for fun that day.

I worry that I'm doing this because it's easy. Will I wake up five years from now, eyes blurry from five years of reading, wondering why the hell I wasted so much time?  I can't dispute that fact that I'm content. I'm HAPPY doing this. 

The first year after my seperation, I was on the go a LOT.  A friend of mine in Virginia was newly single, too.  We were both stay at home moms, and she lived on the beach.  Me and the kids spent most of our spare time there.  It was constant go, go, go and my phone was constantly "ding ding"ing from the various men I was talking with at the time.  I needed to be stay distracted so I didn't have to feel the pain that was bubbling just under the surface of my super happy fun time facade. 

I kind of did things backwards and right now I'm in my pensive, reflective mode.   I think I'll get back out there when I'm ready and I have no idea when that will be.  Right now is my time for finding out who I am and what I want to do.  I have to remember that nothing is set in stone and I don't need to make life determining decision right now.  I'm just going to BE.  I'm going to breathe and live and mother and work and love my family and laugh with my friends.  I'm going to read until my eyeballs fall out of my head.  I'm going to rewatch Battlestart Galactica and watch House from season one.  I'm going to be quiet and paint my nails and wonder at what life has in store for me.  I'm going to go to church and pray and learn and grow.  I'm going to request classics from the library I think I need to read and then return them when I can't get through them.  I'm going to follow Stephen King's career starting with "Carrie" and ending with "Wind through the Keyhole"  I'm going to cook and clean and fold the laundry, but not put it away.  I'm going to sit by the pool and watch my kids being kids.  I'm going to make a lot of trips to QT for Arnold Palmers.  I'm going to make iced coffee by the gallons and do the photo a day on Instagram and post a lot on Facebook, no matter how pathetic it makes me seem.  I'm going to make Aislinn draw me pictures and take away the Wiimote from Jonny so I can crash some cars on the game, too.

Now that I think about it.  I've got a lot going on after all.

Sunday, June 3, 2012

Nuttin' Honey

Dad: " How's life?  Anything new?"
Me: "Nope"

And that pretty much sums it all up right there. 

I'm kind of ready for something new to happen.

Saturday, May 19, 2012

The Kid Free Weekend. Not the Party You Think it is.

This weekend is my weekend without the kids.  Most people think these weekends are full of fun and debauchery.  Not so.  They're lame, for lack of a better word.  Seriously, truly lame.  Here's how they go.

Friday evening I pack Jonny's bag and pace nervously around the house trying to keep the kids from A. Running off to play with their friends or B. getting sucked into something that will make them not get out of here as quickly as possible.  Ever since my ex snooped around my house, going through my stuff, the thought of him being AT my house, even with me here, sends me into a panic.  It's completely stupid, I know this but it doesn't stop me from being anxious about it.  That's why I pace. 

He texts me he's here and then I scramble trying to kiss the kids good-bye and get them out the door, quickly so he can just LEAVE already.  I avoid all windows and the door so he doesn't think I'm like... staring at him longingly or anything or that I have an uncontrollable need to see him.  Again, it's weird I know.

The kids leave, and I usually hop in my car and go get something really decadent and expensive to eat.  Something I would never get with the kids because they either don't like it, or I'd  have to take out a small loan just for the three of us to eat there.  Last night it was Penn Station. 

I bring my food into the living room (something I never do if the kids are here) and eat in front of the TV, catching up on all my shows from the last week on Hulu.  After I've watched everything, I turn it on a random season of Family Guy and snooze on the couch until I decide the bed is more comfortable.

The next morning, I get up around 9 and lay there wondering when I lost my ability to sleep in until 1 pm.  I think about making coffee.  I get up and pee.  I lay back down and start reading.  Around 11 I get up and make coffee and eat any leftovers from the night before.  I make a cup and bring it into the bedroom and read.  Around 1 I'm disgusted with myself because I've once again wasted another Saturday morning and I need to DO something.  I shower.  I lay around some more.  Around 3 I finally make it out the door with absolutely NO idea what I'm going to do, but I'm going to do something damn it.  I usually go to the library and pick up any books I have on hold there.  Poke around.  Call my mom and see if she wants to run some totally random errand.  She's bored, too so she says yes.  We go do errand.  Hang out for a bit.  Talk with dad. Head home.  Watch more tv or read.

Sunday, get up around 9 again.  Think, do I REALLY want to go to church this morning.  Think to myself "God understands" and lay there until 10.  Then I panic thinking God will punish all the kittens in the world if I don't go, so I get up and get ready.  I leave late and get there late. After church, I'll stop by mom's again.  Run any errands I need to do, and then I go home and cook something for dinner before I pick up the kids.

Doesn't that sound just so exciting?

Although I miss the kids the whole time, I do enjoy my alone time.  It's a time to rest and recharge.  I know I am a lucky to have an ex who takes them at all.  Not a lot of single moms get this kind of arrangement.  Today, I got to read a whole book in one sitting and it was awesome.

I keep telling myself that maybe I need to go out more, but I don't really WANT to.  I'm a home body and I am ok with that.  Dating is exhausting and as much as I would love to go out on the occasional date, I'm ok with not going out, too you know?

A friend and I were talking today and I haven't been on a date (or have had sex for that matter) in about 8 months.  I joked that I needed to get reaquainted with my slut side, but in reality, I won't because it's TOO MUCH WORK.  It really is.  Even to find someone worthy of having a sex only relationship takes a lot of time and energy.  Two things that I just don't have right now.

I'll just buy Fifty Shades of Gray and call it a night.

Friday, May 11, 2012


So, what's up with me?  Well, I'll SHOW you!

My sister came in from California and we had a great time.  We took a lot of pictures like this :

This is the story of my life.  Hiding in the background, trying not to be noticed while Michelle's nostrils take front and center.  Her nostrils are SUCH attention whores.

While visiting, Michelle spent a lot of time doing people's nails.  She did mine.  Wanna see?

And she did Aisy's
Aisy likes owls.  A lot. 

I'm a little concerned about Michelle and her love of nail art.  She is perpetuating the "asian doing nails" stereotype and I'm trying to overlook it since she's so good at it, but when she walks around like this, it's hard to ignore.

She went full asian.  You never go full asian.

She was here during Cinco De Mayo.  We managed to stop her from giggling behind her hands and obsessing over Hello Kitty long enough to have a margarita. 

Here's proof that I was there and not just stealing these pics from her Facebook page:

We had such a great time!  All  of us are always so busy with everyday life.  We all try to connect as best as we can, but nothing beats just being in each other's presence.  There is something about breathing the same air and reaching out and touching that person that makes life more bearable.  Me and my sisters are all very different people, with different view points and definitely different lifestyles and ways of dress but just being sisters, it's like something becomes whole when we're all together with our mom. It's like Voltron.  Each lion can do pretty well on it's own, but together, we're that much more formidable and awesome.

I mean, who else is going to dance herself naked when you win nine buck at penny slots? 

Sunday, April 29, 2012

Taking Me Off the Table

I did it today.  I told Peanut Butter Cheesecake to hit the bricks. 

After the Margaret Cho incident, I had kind of closed my heart to him.  He texted a few times, but it was just regular chit chat.  The boring old "Hey how's it going."  This morning, I got a good morning text at like 8 am. Long story short, he said something about missing me, and when I made a joke about coming to his house and stabbing him, he said "It would be ok because that would mean I can see you."

My heart fluttered at that statement.  I was so excited that he would say something like that.  I started to think about the last time we were together, how great it was, how much fun we had, and how I would love to do it again, and then I realized that was A YEAR AGO.

My heart that was just fluttering moment ago, well it broke a little.  I got to wondering why he hasn't wanted to see me in 12 months.  Why he continues to say he misses me, he wants to see me, and going so far as to say he loves me at times, but it's nothing more than a texting/phone relationship. What does he get from this?  It's not even sexting, it's just an occasional conversation about nothing every few weeks.  Yet, these conversations leave me wanting and longing for someone that obviously doesn't want me back.

I have been trying to ignore him for about 6 months now.  Swearing to myself that I would no longer answer his texts or phone calls.  Yet, every time I would answer almost immediately.  We joke back and forth, I make a passive aggressive comment about how weird this whole thing is and then I don't hear from him for weeks.  I finally decided that I didn't care how melodramatic I sounded, I had to END IT with words. 

So, I did.  A part of me wanted him to convince me not to let him go and of course he didn't do that.  He said it "sucked" that we couldn't be friends and he hoped I had a nice life.

/Our weird friendship started from mutual pain, both of us in crappy situations.  I felt that he was THE ONE for me and that if I just waited, he'd eventually come around.  Today, I decided he doesn't get to call all the shots.  I took ME off the table forever. 

I feel so... free.

Saturday, April 14, 2012

My Own Worst Enemy

Yesterday, the water delivery guy had to make a visit to our branch because I kinda broke our water cooler. In my defense, I was trying to clean out the green gunk from a part of it that we just ignore for sanity sake. It started working again before he showed up, so thats why I say I kinda broke it.

He is a very handsome man. I could tell he was checking me out and being the total dork I am, instead of being cool and flirty, I was flustered and giggly and avoided him all together. He left and I was totally embarrassed.

Jewell said I should have said something, anything to let him know I was interested. I asked her for an example and being Jewell she said something really foul that had us doubled over, laughing.

This is why I'll die a lonely. I don't do well around people. For me, men have two categories. The first is the "buddy" category. The other is "must avoid because I don't want to look like an idiot" category.

I am hyper aware of looking desperate. If I like you, if I think you're a hunk of gorgeous man meat, I lose my ability to flirt. I won't even make eye contact because I don't want you to think I want you. I don't want to come off as desperate or lonely. My pride won't allow me to be vulnerable, to show that you make me feel things.

A co-worker mentioned setting me up with someone and I had to MAKE myself ask about him today. I didn't even want my coworker to see me vulnerable, to hear the hope in my voice, the longing in my words. To see the tentative optimism on my face. As if she's go back and say "Forget her, she's a class five clinger".

I am my own downfall. Always.

Thursday, April 5, 2012

Bored at court

Well, I am sitting in court waiting for my marriage to end. To be officially "unwanted". I know that sounds melodramatic and crap, but it's kind of the truth.

The fact is, I don't like change. Maybe, I've got the touch of the Asperger. Who knows? Anyway. It's not as hard as I thought it would be but it's still no walk in the park either. We're sitting far apart. I like it that way.

I showed up and saw my ex already waiting. Seeing no need to really speak to him, I just continued to head toward the courtroom to see if my lawyer was here yet. My ex called my name and I turned around and said "Yes?". He said our lawyers weren't there yet and I said "mmm okay" and peeped in just in case. I then sat down on the opposite side of the hall. He sighed and pulled out his phone.

What does he expect from me? Greetings? A handshake? Fuck you. Maybe if he showed more of an interest in his children. The other day he called and I racked my brain to figure out why he was calling. I was still at work and couldn't answer. He said he wanted to talk to the kids. I can honestly say that, THAT had never crossed my mind, because the last time he called to speak to them during the week, was easily in September.

My life has moved on, but I'm still angry at this man who lied and cheated. I thought that since he was out of the marriage, he'd show more of an interest in the kids. That he'd feel relieved from the pressure of being with me and he could focus on them more. I thought if any good came from this, it would be that the kids would have their dad's focus. Sure, he takes them on his weekends, but does nothing with them. The kids say he sits around playing video games or locked in the bedroom with his girlfriend or gone while her daughter babysits them.

Today, I have an appointment with the school about Aislinn and getting an IEP in place for her. They diagnosis of Asperger syndrome has come back again. There was some back and forth in Virginia about whether or not she had it, but she does. I told him about this meeting and he never said he'd go or anything. He probably couldn't tell you what classes she has nor has he asked for a report card all year. I'm sure though, to his friends and to his lawyer, I'm just the mean, evil ex
Who doesn't provide that information.

Sunday, March 25, 2012

The Hunger Games

I was just taken out on a date by my friend, Kris.  It was a girl date and it was so sweet of her to treat me.  I had such a great time!  I was expecting to eat something totally giryl like... fruit and cheese, but she was totally down for burgers at Red Robin.  Then, we went and watched The Hunger Games.

I have left the theater in tears on more than one occasion when I've watched a movie based on a book I love.  The Queen of the Damned and Memoirs of a Geisha, to name two.  After Memoirs of a Geisha, I kind of avoided movies made from books I liked.  They were always disappointing.  Even the Harry Potter movies.  Don't get me freaking started on the Percy Jackson movie.

The Hunger Games was pretty good.  I didn't leave the movie frustrated or disappointed.  There is really only one scene from the book I missed, which was the scene when Katniss is starving and the people of District 11 scrape up money to send her bread.  I felt it was important because it was mentioned that was the first time a District sponsored another tribute.  Also, I don't think they really stressed that people were STARVING in the districts, the outlying districts especially.  Katniss hunted because she had to feed her family and she did it because she almost died from starvation.  They show Peeta giving Katniss the burnt bread, but they don't show WHY.  From the movie, it seems he gave her the burnt bread because she was sitting in the rain.  She was sitting in the rain because she had basically given up and she had fallen on  that spot and couldn't get back up, weak with hunger.  He burnt the bread on purpose, getting beaten by his mother for doing so, and then gave her that bread.  That bread gave her hope and the next day she started to hunt.  Rue was from district 11, the farming district, yet she often went to bed hungry.

When I try to explain the book to people "There is this game see?  And each district has to give 2 tributes to fight to the death on tv.  Oh the tributes are kids." people always give me a weird look. Especially after mentioning that it's a Young Adult book.  Seeing the violence on the big screen was pretty disturbing.  Even though I knew Cato snaps that kid's neck, seeing it happen made me cringe.  I knew there was a bloodbath at the Cornicopia, seeing it made me feel queasy. 

There were also elements that they added that I liked.  I'm usually a stickler about a movie never straying from the book, but I liked that they added the scenes of the game control room, even though watching them torture kids with a smile on their face was disturbing.  I also liked that the dogs were regular dogs, not Capital Mutts, made to look like the dead tributes.  That, by fa,r was the most disturbing part of the book to me.

Overall, they did a phenominal job. I realize that there could have been so much more backstory, but it's hard to do. The movie was alreayd 2.5 hours long!!

Sunday, March 11, 2012

If I Said I Want Your Body Now, Would You Hold it Against Me?

Aislinn and I got into a discussion about Britney Spears the other day.  Try as I may to truly HATE Britney Spears, darn it to heck, I just can't do it.  Her personal life aside, her music is just pure fun and I love every song that comes on the radio by her, old or new.  Aislinn prefers "old" Britney.  She's not even old enough to remember "Old Britney".  It was a cool conversation though.

Anyway, so I've been kind of dabbling over on a few dating sites, but I can't even begin to tell you why.  I just feel like I'm going to find a new guy the old fashioned way, face to face.  Most men won't make the first moves, and the ones that do are usually assholes.  I just don't feel like convincing someone they should like me and that's what I feel like I'm doing on these sites.

I've mentioned this before, but I'm just not impressed.  I want someone to impress me.  Not, like.. in a financial way, or in an achievements way.  I want to be impressed by their personality and their manners.  I don't want to be swept off my feet, but I'd like it if a guy liked to be with me because I was fun, not because it's better to be with me than alone. 

An old flame contacted me to go out with him this weekend.  I said no, mainly because I know he doesn't really like ME. He doesn't like being alone.  I haven't spoken to him in about six months, save one email back and forth and he E-MAILED me to ask me out on a date.  On a Sunday, when he knows I have kids, to go see a musical performer he is obsessed with.  Not out to a dinner to get maybe get to know each other again but to a loud concert where we can't even talk.  He didn't even ask how I was doing or anything.   It's like he didn't even want to try. He didn't want to make an effort.  He just knew I was free and he needed someone to go with him.

No thank you.

What amazes me is that so many of my friends are like "Oh! You should go!" and that pisses me off more.  As if some man who treats me as an afterthought is such a great catch.  Why? Becasue he is breathing? 

I guess I'll know him when I see him and that will be that.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

The Big D and I Don't Mean Dallas

I will officially be divorced in like TWO WEEKS!!

Yes, finally!  Today we went to court for a settlement hearing and we were able to get all the details smoothed out without a hearing.  We started at the courthouse, but decided that it would be better to finish up and sign affidavits at his lawyer's office in the city.  We came to a decent settlement and I'm pretty happy.  I'm sure he's not, since he has to pay, but I feel nothing but relief because it has been so hard for us for the last nine months. 

Those nine months were needed though.  I needed them to set my priorities straight.  I needed them to see I could make things happen with nothing.  The kids needed them to rid them of their sense of entitlement.  It took us awhile, but we finally got comfortable being in a "tight spot" and we all handled it well.  I'm proud of us.  Now, my kids get excited when we eat out for dinner when before they expected it.  Now, they're happy when we rent a movie instead of expecting to go to the theater.  We simplified and are happier for it.

I just can't even express how happy I am to have this whole thing almost over.  I didn't cry once.  I got a little teary twice, but not a tear did I drop. 

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Being Still

One day when I was having one of my moments at work, a moment where I feel the whole world is falling down on me, and I just don't know if I can do this shit one more day, my co-worker, who has turned into a really great friend, said something that really stuck with me.  She was exasperated at my little freak out moment, and said in her sassy, black girl tone "Dang Sandi.  Just... BE STILL! Just be still and let Him do his work."

Be still.

Then Sunday at church, the choir sang a song called "Be Still" and it brought me comfort and drove my friends message home.

Be still.

Be. Still.

Even if you're not overly churchy, it's a good thought.  Be still and let nature takes it course,  Be still and let Karma do it's thang.  Be still and just listen.  Be still and wonder at the life you have.  Be still and love all those around you.  Be still and give thanks for everything and everyone in your life.  Be still and let God do what he will.

Be still.

Since then, I've tried to be still.  When my heart feels like it's going to pound out of my chest, and my forehead breaks out in a sweat.  When I start to worry about things I have no control over, when I worry about the what ifs, I take a deep breath and I say "Be still.  Be still.  Just, be still and quiet." and I am awash in calm.  I've found myself needing to say it less and less over the weeks.  I've stopped waking up in a panic.  I'm not lying when I say I would wake up with my heart pounding away in my chest from the stress and anxiety.  Before my feet even hit the floor to start my day, my heart rate was through the roof.  I seriously was worried I was going to have a heart attack. 

Being still is hard, but being still is sometimes the only thing  you can do.

Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Breaking Blocks

I come here a few times a week to write something, because I feel the need inside of me.  Unfortunately, I get here, I hammer out like two sentences that usually begin as this post has, and then my fingers stop.  My brain freezes and my need goes unfulfilled.  It's a frustrating process and I can't seem to break free of it.  I then spend a lot of time thinking "I need to WRITE and get it out." and after a few days with that thought rolling around in my head, I come here again and start the process all over again.  I feel kind of like Roland Deschain, Gunslinger from Gilead.  Lucky for him though, he was never aware of his cycle of hell.  I am.  And it pains me. 

I guess I could get all philosophical and say this is the perfect metaphor to my life.  Rife with starts and stops that basically get me no where and once I learn to accept these starts and stops, maybe life will move forward.  But, that's new agey bullshit and I'm not even going to entertain that thought, well not again, after entertaining the thought when I wrote it down that is.  Everyone's life is rife with starts and stops.  We all swim in circle froms time to time and that's ok.  Eventually we adjust our fins and go straight again. If Nemo the crippled fish can do it, so can I.

 Maybe, I shouldn't have used the word crippled.  I've been reading the Game of Thrones series and they're not very "PC" in those books and I am afraid it has rubbed off on me.  If I start calling people "Ser" and "wench" and start saying my age as "five and thirty" then you know I've gone too far to be brought back.  Leave me to my flagon of Arbor Gold and light a candle for me in the sept and send a bird out to all the lands saying that I have gone over.  Weep not, fair child,  as I am my happiest here.

There are many things I want to touch on, just random thoughts I've had and I don't even know where to start. Nothing in particular about my life because life has been, well nothing more than life.  I don't have anything new or exciting going on.  Actually, my life is probably the antedote for anything exciting.  A dose of my life could probably bring down the most coked out party girl in a matter of seconds.  She'd be all "Whee! OMG! Life is great!!  I'm SO COKED OUT" and then inject my life into her body and she'd be all "Oh hey. 'Sup guys.  I'm so NOT coked out right now. Awesome.  Have you read the Game of Thrones?"  Because that's how I talk and yes I talk about Game of Thrones a lot.

I'm borderline content, though.  I say borderline because I'm afraid to say all the way, because I feel I SHOULDN'T be content with how things are.  But, I've been trying to "be still" and just enjoy the moments and it's been getting easier.  I lost sight of the moments for many months, when the world felt like it was going to fall down on me at any second.  But, it didn't and we're still here.  I've been finding it easier to let things go and to not worry so much.  I've started to go to church and that has helped tremendously. 

Talking about church and my faith has been kind of awkward for me.  Some have voiced disdain or disbelief that I've started to attend church and assume I'm going to start baptizing people on the streets, while others have been too forward in welcoming me to the flock of "good moral Christians" and then become disappointed when I'm not as "churchy" as they feel I should be.  It's hard to explain and it's a hard spot to be in.   People assume because I go to church now, I will or should (depending on which of the two above camps I'm talking to) hate gays.  I will or should be against abortions, I will or should vote republican, I will or should a million and a half other things.  I will say though, the liberal Christians are growing in number and that is exciting to me.   It's why I chose to start attending an Episcapol church, as their message is one of acceptance and love of all people and that no matter what, God loves you.  I like that.  I saw a member at church with a rainbow lanyard for his name tag on Sunday and I felt I was right where I should be.

So, no.  I'm not thumping bibles or anything and preaching that all baby killing liberals are going to hell.  I'm just trying to find my place in the world, and I can truly say that I feel SO much better since I've started going to church.  I question myself a lot, wondering if I'm using this as a band-aid for something deeper inside of me. I honestly can not say.  I will say though, that these people have welcomed us with open arms and are truly happy to see us there.  If anything, I love the sense of community that I have found.  I always said I didn't need a building to worship God. This was my excuse for not going to church.  I still believe it's true.  I've always felt God best out in world, talking a walk in the park, or hearing a story that brings a tear to my eye and a smile to my lips.  I always felt God is everywhere and people should focus more on that than church.  Yet, being at the church brings me something more than just God.  It brings me community.  Church gets me out of the house and put me in a situation that is different from my norm.  I have something to do at least one day every week and usually more days than that depending on what activities they have.

It seems I've broken my block.  Let's see if I can keep the gates open.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

I vow this post will be only uplifting and so chock full of positivity that you'll shit rainbows for a week.




That's all I can muster.

*shuffles back to bed with a bottle of vodka and the 2nd book in the Game of Thrones series.*

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Pink Eye

Jonathan and I have been struck with the deady pink eye.  Ok, it's not DEADLY.  It's actually quite lame, but holy hell does it spread fast!!  I'm talking, Jonathan was complaining about his eye tearing up at church, by the end of the night his eye was red and kind of swollen with gunk, and by the next morning, my eye was gunky and teary.    Pink eye is bad asss.  Pink eye doesn't care. Pink eye doesn't give a shit. 

I'm enjoying my time off, but in true Sandi fashion, I also feel guilty for not being at work, even though I've been told to "Stay home.  PLEASE." 

Of course, the pink eye has completely freaked out Aislinn.  She usually holes herself up anyway to keep away from her brothers "nasty boy germs" on a regular day.  You can imagine how it has been since she found out he's now CONTAGIOUS.   It's been pretty awful, and quite honestly,  I've been making her steer clear of her.  People without OCD get freaked out with pink eye, I can only imagine what her OCD addled brain is telling her.  I'm guessing it's very similiar to the pink eye episode of South Park where the community was over run with zombies, but the Dr. kept saying it was just pink eye.*

Aislinn has a very mild case of OCD and like most people with OCD, it gets worse the more stressed out a person becomes.  So, usually in the mornings when she's getting ready for school is when it will rear it's annoying head.  This morning, she was mad becuase me and Jonathan got to stay home and she had to go to school.  So, she refused to pee because her brother's toothbrush was on the sink by the toilet.  She wouldn't even have to touch it.  But, it's THERE and therefore, she can't pee.  I moved it.  That's my life.  My life is to make sure Aislinn doesn't have to touch anything she doesn't want to. 

In other news, I've taken to listening to sad songs like some emo teenager whose boyfriend has left her for the head cheerleader.  I guess this is fitting, considering my ex was my first boyfriend.  I kind of wish I had faced these feelings sooner.  Adele works wonders, though and it may just take me a little longer to get there than I hoped.  I hid from the hurt for too long, and it's hitting me full force right now.  I'm feeling my feelings and accepting them for what they are.  I was hurt and betrayed.  There is no shame in that.  There is no shame in  feeling sick when I see them together, even after almost a year.  She left a voicemail on my phone for Jonathan's birthday, and the sound of her voice made me almost hyperventilate and without thinking, I hit delete.  I felt bad, because it was for Jonny and then I realized that you actually have to delete it twice, so he could still hear it. 

Trying to figure out what these feelings mean have been tough.  I'm 99% sure it doesn't mean I'm still in love with him.  I'm actually pretty sure it doesn't have much to do with him at all.  I don't miss HIM. I never have moments where I think of anything I miss about him.  I don't think about his smile or his scent or anything.  Sometimes, I might think of something fun we did as a family, and feel wistful, but him, no, not so much.  How could I have been so in love with him and yet I don't miss anything about him.  Even those wonderful tender moments in the beginning, when you're new to each other and he does things like, brush him hands on your face?  I don't even give a shit about any of that.  When I see him alone without her, I feel nothing. 

I assume its knowing that I was so easily cast aside and that he didn't give our family a chance. He saw and out, and he took it and ran.  No counseling, no trying to work it out or anything.  Then, after that we pretty much shut out all forms of communication.  I don't know if I need closure or what.  What I can't deny is, even if I know he's not good for me, and I'd never want him back, just knowing you were so easily dropped, that hurts.  So, I think I'm working through the whole "I don't know if I could ever put myself in that postion ever again" thing.   It goes back to what I wrote before. 

Random side note, that was the first episode of South Park I had ever watched. I thought it was a very funny show, but I got out of habit of watching it regularly. I tried to watch an episode the other day, and the whole show was based on Kyle losing a bet and having to lick Cartman's balls. I turned it off about 5 minutes in. I guess when your whole schtick is to shock people, after so many seasons, ball licking is all you have left in your grab bag.

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Only Tricks. No Treats.

When my ex and I first split, I told him I'd never have anyone to love again because he took it all, that I had given him all the love I was allotted in my lifetime and that I'd never be able to love again.  That's how I felt at the time.  I just really felt like I could never love again and by love again, I mean not even love HIM again.  My love was gone. Just poof.  He used it all.  I think it was gone before the marriage even ended.  He had wrung every drop of love from my heart and left nothing and he went on to the next.  I think that's why my heart didn't break like I would have expected because there was nothing there before the split happened.

Since then, there were a a few moments I thought I could maybe I could love again, but I realized that those moments were more about wanting to feel normal.  I'm back to thinking that I'm out of love to give.  It's like it's Halloween and I'm hiding in the basement with my porch light off and my blinds shut tightly against the trick or treaters because I gave all the candy to the first kid that showed up.  He was adorable in his little Batman outfit and I was like HERE! Take it ALL!!  I don't even WANT the other kids to have candy because you're IT man! That costume is the freaking bees knees.  Then the little fucker kicked me in the shin and stole my jack-o-lantern.

I loved my ex freely and without shame.  I loved him hard and I loved him as best I could.  I loved him with my whole soul and heart.  I LOVED him.  Everyone who knew me knew this.  I saw those burning red flags with the bio-hazard signs on them.  One came in the form of an anonymous letter to me just a few months after we were married.  Yet, I loved him.  And he left.  And he left me looking like the fool.

Everyone knows that saying "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."  I don't know if I can let love make me look like a fool a second time. 

The basement has cable and internet.  The trick or treaters will get the hint eventually.


Wednesday, January 18, 2012


Sometimes, I wonder what I'm supposed to be learning through this whole process. I always try and notice and appreciate the little lessons life gives us. It's not always easy.

In late October I started to feel down and it carried on until the New Year. I'm starting to finally shake off the last bits of this sadness and move forward toward the sun.

Real down is an understatement. I had thoughts. Bad, terrible thoughts whispering to me, telling me I could end the struggle real easily. Today, reading about Dooce and how she found herself looking at the ceiling, dog leash in hand, well it made me sick because it wasn't that long ago I thought about driving off an overpass on an alarmingly regular basis.

Life was hard, there was little money and Aisy needed glasses. I knew anything I could get the kids for Christmas would be small. Insignificant.

I just prayed that Christmas would end. I have amazing kids. They have taken to the changes with grace. Yet, they're kids and one still believes in Santa. I was getting requests for laptops, IPads, bikes, and expensive Lego sets. It was so hard. I already felt like shit, and this made it worse.

I figured if I was gone, their dad wouldn't have to pay us and he could buy them those things.

Obviously, I see now how ridiculous that is. The kids would rather I be alive over having a laptop.

It's scary where the mind can take you. I'll keep a better eye on myself next October.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Logical Faith

As per my Facebook status, I went to church today.  Not for a wedding, or a bapism or because I was on a date, but because.. well I honestly don't know why, other than I wanted to give it a try.

When I was 13 and I read something that said that 70% of Catholics polled felt birth control was ok to use and this bothered me.  This was at one of the Smithsonian Museums during out 8th grade class trip.  I was a virgin and had never even worn a tampon and my first french kiss had happened a few weeks previous.  I was far from some worldly girl.  It wasn't even about the birth control at all.  It was that 70 percent said something was ok, but one man had deemed it not ok that bothered me.  This was on top of me being bitter about letting the non Catholic boys be altar servers and not the Catholic girls at my old school (the year I left, they finally allowed it).

As I contemplated this, and was just kind of offended as a thirteen year old could be, I heard a commotion.  One of the girls in my class was making a huge fuss.  She refused to go into the Darwin room because Darwinism was a sin and that anyone who even looks upon that will go to hell.  That God made us in his image.  Even our teacher told her that it was an interesting theory and God wouldn't be upset if she just went in and looked. 

It was the first time I realized I that I never really truly believed like others believe.  To me, it made sense that we came from monkeys.  How could you look at a monkey and NOT think we were related?    We had scientific proof for most things, but we just had faith when it came to Bible stories and this is where I got myself in a pickle with my faith.  I was headed that way for awhile.  The priest never could tell me why Norse, Greek and Roman Gods were considered myths.  The stories were just as fantastical as miracles, walking on water and turning water to wine, and rising from the dead.

I've always been a practical girl.

As I grew older, and I started to develop into the person I am today, I often felt like I could never go to church because I couldn't allign msyelf to what they believed in and so by going to church and choosing to not follow blindly as faith would dictate us to do,  I would be nothing more than a hypocrite and that's not WJWD.  I never stopped believing in  God.  Sometimes, my practical nature would try and sway me into thinking a higher power did not exist, but I could never go the Athiest route.  At the end of the day, I guess I just need to believe that some things are simple out of my hands.  I always prayed every night in bed, usually just a prayer I made up and I said every night.  Logically, I knew that the the ritual of saying the same thing over and over, night after night was comforting, but I liked doing it and I hoped that God took  my prayer to keep us all safe just as seriously even if it was said by rote.

I have always been more of a liberal minded person and I believe in the live and let live theory of life.  Even though I believe in God, I didn't like being preached to about God.  I didn't like having God shoved down my throat.  I didn't like being told what God thinks about stuff because it's so presumptious to think you know.  In my head God was cool and loving and as long as you lived your life as a good person, you were kind, good and honest, you were ok in his eyes, no matter where you stuck your pecker, and if he DOES have a problem with it, God's cool and loves you anyway.  Just like I don't like shopping, but my sister does.  I love her anyway. 

 I also believe that if someone chooses to worship a different God that was ok, too because in MY head, they were either all the same entity bringing comfort to those with a certain set of beliefs OR all the Gods worked togehter in  like a big huge Justice League of Higher Powers.  All different, but all working for the common good of humanity.  This line of thinking isn't always welcomed in mainstream Christianity.

With my weird pseudo-divorce crap I have going on, I found myself leaning more on prayer.  Sometimes, prayer was the only thing that got me through a day.  My liberal sensibilities would sometimes make me give myself shit about it.  "Oh drinking the Kool-aid are we?  Soothing balm for the stupid masses."   Then I realized that yes. IT WAS a soothing balm for my soul. There were times I wailed in pain for God to just get me through one more fucking day.  PLEASE GOD JUST LET ME FIND A WAY TO DO THIS.  A few weeks ago, the only thing that kept me from really losing my shit was to scream my prayers from my house to my job while in the car, crying the whole time.

One could say well, ok you probably would have found a way eventually and they would be right. I mean, I got through my life before, but my life has never been this HARD before. I am not going to lie and say my life is the hardest it's ever fucking been and I need to feel like someone is looking out for me.

I had looked into different churches and was told that the Episcopal church is very liberal minded. They welcome logical thinking and questioning.  They allow women priests and gay people and just all walks of life and so today I went to one.  It's a very small congregration and it has a female priest who used to be a Catholic nun.  The people were very welcoming and were very excited to have a new person there.  I sat with at a table after with some older ladies as we had cookies and coffee and they told me their stories.  Most people in the Episcopal church are from different Christian sects.  It seems that it's a good compromise between two people with differing branches.  There were a few "Well, I was raised Catholic and he was raised  Baptist and we couldn't agree on either, so we came here" stories.  And I kind of like that. 

I plan on going back

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Dude Fast Update

I realized I haven't really updated about my dude fast.  Well, it's still going, but not because I'm keeping it going.  Dude Fast has turned into Dude Famine.  Seriously and for reals.  I'm ok with that though.

I have allowed myself to commence with speaking to men other than my friends, I'm just not really speaking to them and that's a good thing.  I don't have the want or the need.  The dude fast was really eye opening and I'm really glad I did it, but I may be taking it too far now as I really don't have a real want to date right now.

Dating is EXHAUSTING and I'm lazy.  Really lazy.  I want to like, fast forward to the part where I can show up at your house in sweats and tshirt sans bra, hair in a ponytail.  I want to get right to the being bumps on the couch part.  The beginning part is too much.   Fixing my hair, putting on make up, wearing tight jeans while wearing sexy panties made out of some synthetic material and hoping to GOD you don't get some type of yeast infection from the tight jean/sexy panty combo.  The driving, the small talk, the "what the FUCK DO I DO WITH MY HANDS? moments.  The sucking in my gut for a whole evening.  The shaving. OMG ALL THE FUCKING SHAVING.

Today, a friend called me while I was getting ready for work. Actually, it was dude I used to obsessively pine over.  Since my dude fast, I am proud to say I no longer pine for him and we rarely even speak much anymore.  He called me this morning though, and he asked if I was getting dressed up for work and I said no, I was trying to wear something that was as close to sweatpants as possible without getting in trouble.  He said something like even though he doesn't have anyone to dress up for, he still likes to look nice when he goes to work becuase you  never know who you'll meet.

 Eff that, homie. 

 I know looking good makes you FEEL better, but sometimes, for me anyway, I just don't give a shit about strutting my stuff.  Sometimes, I just want to be comfortable because THAT is what's going to make feel better.  Because it's cold and I only have to work for 5 hours max on a Saturday and I'm just going to come home and put my sweats on and be done with it. 

I love my sweatpants.

I'm not impressed.  That's the problem.  I've been dating off and on for about two years and I'm not impressed.   Someone has to impress me enough to make me want to get out of my sweatpants into heels and tight jeans.  Good luck, fellas

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

Blogger App.

Finally, Blogger has an app. A sucky app, but it's an app nonetheless. I have to type while holding the phone vertically which drives me insane but whatever.

After my horribly depressing last post, I slept while that night. What can I say? When will I learn that writing it all out helps me feel better? I've felt so much better just saying I'm having a hard time without having to gloss over my feelings like I would if I was telling someone about it all.

I'm trying to live in the moment.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

What If?

I've wanted to sit down and write something for a few weeks, but I just haven't had a clear thought on what to write because I feel so up and down all the time.  One day I feel blessed beyond belief and other days I feel like I can't get much lower.  So, I'm just going to let my fingers fly.

I'm still crying a lot.

Today is a sad day and it felt like the only thing to do was to write.  I'm trying.  Trying so hard to get through day to day.  Every morning I awake with a feeling of dread.  That TODAY is the day something bad is going to happen.  What that thing is, I don't know.  But, I waste so much time worrying about what COULD happen.  I hate it.  Every night I go to bed, thanking God for one more reprieve.

Anxiety sucks.

I feel alone more than I care to admit.  I actually asked a friend for a hug the other day because the hardest part about being a single mom is not having any actual physical contact with another adult.  Sure, I get hugs from my kids all the time, but I'm usually the hug giver.  Sometimes, you need to be the hug receiver.  Even though I could use a hug, men are the LAST thing on my mind right now.  Someone pointed out that I have moved onto the "man hating" stage.  I think that he is right, and I hate him for being right.

Being strong is harder than we make it appear to be.

People tell me all the time that I seem to be taking it all in stride.  It's an act.  My insides are in a constant state of turmoil.  I feel sick to my stomach a lot and my mind and brain is always racing a mile a minute.  I feel I'm in a constant state of "hustle"  Robbing Peter to pay Paul and hope Mary doesn't come knocking for her share.  I can't see a way out of this situation and that scares the shit out of me.  People are always talk about how the man gets screwed in a divorce.  WHAT?!?  I'm barely making ends meet.  I am grateful I get child support, but because of child support, I can't get any other help I could really use.  I'm one of those people that falls through the cracks and I'm scared.  So fucking scared, I can barely breathe sometimes.   I make shit money and how am I going to make more money?  Go to school?  That costs money.   It's an endless loop that plays through my brain constantly.

I try very hard to let it all go.  To give it up to God and to just live in this moment.  Sometimes, that brings such a beautiful moment of clarity that I wish I could keep with me forever, but then the little scary thoughts start creeping back into my head.  Scaring me all over again.  Sometimes, I'll yell at myself in the car.  "Sandi, nothing is WRONG RIGHT NOW."   I know I can't control the past and I can't see into the future, and I feel so completely out of control all the time.