Rare form

Ten Things I'm scared of.

1) Bats. I hate bats. They're furry. They swoop and they like to play games w/ girls who are scared of them. Nothing a broom and a pillow can't take care of though.

2) Getting my head under water. No...silly, I'm fine in the shower. In a large body of water, or even a pool for that matter. I cannot dunk my head under water. Can't do it. In a past life I was Robert DiNiro in "Insomnia."

3) My alter ego. Tiny Dancer. She scares the piss out of me sometimes. Especially when I'm lying in bed trying to go to sleep and she creeps up beside me and says "asshole chocolate" and makes me laugh until tears start pouring down my face. Now that's some scary shit.

4) Oh whats his name? Creepy guy that used to go to the same church. I see him around town every now and then and he totally creeps me out. After all of these years he still knows my name and smiles kinda sadistically when he sees me.

5) My libido.

6) Billy Blanks.

7) That one Donald Duck movie that my oldest son had as a toddler. The spanish one. The one we watched over and over and over again. It should've been called Donald Duck smokin' crack w/ the Cheshire cat in Wonderland. Trust me, it's scary.

8) The words "There are no Messages in your inbox." Makes me weep actually. One day I'm positive I will walk out of this dungeon I call my office and the rest of the world will be gone. I'll be the only one left. Left behind. Or maybe werewolves have eaten everyone and since I was locked away in my dungeon...I mean "office" they couldn't get to me.

9) When I let my dog sleep w/ me and I wake up in the middle of the night to her weird horking sound. I swear, I thought she was dead. It wasn't funny. After about the fifth time I kicked her ass out of the bed.

10) Larry the Cable Guy.

TAG! You're it. Yup, YOU!

Wait, this just in...

11) The fact that I have nothing better to do than make up my own "Tags" and insist that everyone play along.

12) The guy who calls himself "Spartacus" on this dating site. He scares me too.

poor dog

So this morning my mom steps out on her porch and has some goodies for her dog. She yells his name like we live on the ranch and it's time for the cows to come home. (I'm positive the neighbors love it!)
Anyways, the dog doesn't come. No matter how loud or how often she yells his name clear across the county, the dog isn't coming.
So she steps out back and continues her rituals there. Still no dog.
So feeling for the dog, understanding how he feels, I politely tell my mom that I'm sure the dog has gone over to get himself a piece at the neighbors house.
"Leave him alone mom, you'll throw off his groove."
The neighbors dog is named "Pandora."
That Pandoras box, I swear.

Ya never know what you're gonna get

So there are a lot of people out there that wanna know what it's like to be dating. I've actually never gotten as many comments in my blog until I opened up about the online dating thing...wow. So I'm here to tell ya...it sucks. No need to live vicariously...please don't waste your time.
One of my friends and I'll refrain from saying who (you know who you are w/ your bag of condoms you closet ho)...thought it would be like a box of chocolates...all that selection w/ tiny morsels of yummy stuff inside them. Ha! It's more like this:
A lovely wrapped box almost too perfect to unwrap. Such a pretty bow. You can smell the chocolate from the outside. Mmmm. Can't wait. Want chocolate sooo bad. Mmmm. Must have chocolate. So you unwrap and take the lid off and there is all of these yummy looking chocolates. Oh so yummy looking. Which one? Sometimes there's a map. Caramel filled lower right hand side. Sometimes you just have to stick your finger in the middle to find out what's inside. You finally make a selection. Ohhhh how you've been craving this one. Yummy. You've fantasized about it for weeks. It's haunted your dreams. It's called your name. You've finally found it.
You pop it in your mouth. You savor the deep dark chocolate on the outside. Mmmm. Not bad, but you really want what's inside. Caramel. You want the combination of the smooth dark chocolate with the yummy, oozy caramel. You bite and oh...what's this. Odd. Not exactly... Yuck, WTF? This isn't caramel this is more like string cheese. MOLDY string cheese. Whoa! Not good. Can't spit it out fast enough. That was some nasty shit. Someone made a huge mistake. So you rinse your mouth out with a little water. Ready to make your next selection. Let's go with the chocolate covered cherry this time. Upper left corner. Gawd, you so can't wait. Especially after that first very disappointing let down. You're still a little apprehensive from that. A little fearful of the string cheese. But you suck it up and you keep hope alive and you pop it in your mouth. Mmmm. Milk chocolate this time. So smooth. So yummy. So right. So you go ahead and bite cause you really want that cherry chocolate mixture. Ohhh. Shit. WTH? That. Tasted. like bologna. You can't get it out fast enough. How on earth did you get this funky box of chocolates? You really must have done something wrong to deserve this one. Whoa. You quickly decide that your craving for chocolate is finished. No more. Can't do it. But instead of throwing the box away, you save out hope and you set it in the fridge instead. You'll keep it just in case. So a couple of months go by and the beautiful box of chocolates has made it to the back of the fridge. You are sitting on the sofa one day and suddenly hit with a craving for chocolate. You NEED chocolate. You remember that beautiful box in the back of the fridge. You've amazingly enough have forgotten about the string cheese and bologna. You pop off the lid. Peruse the selection. You pick the other caramel centered one. Mmmm. How you deserve this. You've been waiting your whole life for this one. You pop it in your mouth. You savor the deep delicious dark chocolate. You can't wait any longer. You bite into it...and it hits you. You remember the string cheese. You remember the bologna. How stupid. How could you forget. You must have had brain surgery to remove that vital part. You could smack yourself stupid. How could you let this happen? Again. Come on. But this time you've really done it. This time you got tomato juice. Ack. Pluck. Barf. Gag. WTF? Once agian you rinse your mouth out. But do you learn your lesson and just throw the box away? NO. You hold out hope. You save it for next month. And next month you open the lid to hard, MOLDY, chocolates that have had a finger stuck in them. Why can't you just throw that damn box away? I'll tell you why...because you crave chocolate and you hold out hope that one day your fantasy will come true. One day you'll get caramel and it will be the best ever! One day...
And that, my friends, is what dating is all about. So I suggest that if you found your caramel...savor it honey. Let it roll around on your tongue. Let it melt. Taste it. Love it. And let me know who the hell manufactured it because I got the wrong box.

Ps...Andrew the fireman is good. Caramel? Well I don't know about that yet... But the milk chocolate coating is yummy so far. It's too soon to bite down. I'm a little apprehensive after the asshole chocolate I had last year.
Dancer out.

Intro to online dating

So I added myself to a dating website. Why? I'm not completely sure yet. I just did it on a whim and poop...I mean poof, there was my profile and my picture on the web. Yikes! What have I done?
I scanned over some of the mens profiles. Some are completely ridiculous.
Lots of pictures are posted.
A mullet. Pa-leeze. I think someones stuck in the early 80's. (My apologies if you have a mullet. Advice: get a new hair style. Quickly. Go, go now.)

Seriously, I don't need to see your six pack. It's nice yah, but it doesn't do much for me. Oh and I see that your entire upper half is tattooed. Nice, I have a tattoo too...BUT I'M NOT ADVERTISING IT ON MY PROFILE. Oh is that a can of Bud your holding?

And what is it with guys putting their family pics on there. I see you have 3 beautiful daughters, that's lovely, but please take them off the internet dating site.

There are also some punks. One man advertised "No FATTYS please." For real. Did he just throw his shallowness all over the web? That burns me. But then of course I'm sensitive to that. Maybe I should put in my profile "No megalamaniacs please. No chovinist pigs please. No masoganistic men please. No punks who think they are gods gift to the world please. No married men. No meat heads. etc...etc...etc..."

I've had a few messages sent to me via this dating site.
One from a 20 year old. Um, yah. If you can't buy your own beer then I think we might have a problem. I had a good laugh from that one. But then I started thinking about the whole "age difference issue" and decided that judging by age would be very hypocritical of me. (But seriously, fresh out of highschool and can't buy beer yet. Whoa. I've already got two young men to raise, I seriously don't need another.) Although we did have one thing in common... we both live with our parents. hahaha.

Another from a farmer. He was doing good until he said, "woman who doesn't mind a hard days work on the farm." Um...I don't mind outdoor work, but are we talking milking the goat or cutting off hog nuts? Cause I'm seriously not down with that. Not my bag baby.

However, I did meet a man named Andrew through this site. After trading several emails over the last few days, we actually met face to face last night over coffee. Nice guy. Fireman. Seems to have his shit together. We talked for a few hours.
He has been on a few first dates and he mentioned that he wouldn't ever go over to a womans house on the first date. I was curious and asked why not (not that I would meet at someones house for a first date either)... well, seems that he had gone over to a womans house on their first date and in the middle of the movie they were watching...her husband came home. OHHHHH! Wow. Awkward.

There's just all kinds aren't there.

Standing up for myself

I'm sorry, I have to rant. I just need to keep myself in check here and process this. I had another "episode" with the STBX. I had sent him an email stating how much he owed me regarding our sons medical bill. Just matter of factly summarizing it for him. Ya know what, I'm just going to copy & paste the whole email correspondance here.
My email to him:
All the bills from Isaacs broken arm are in.
Our 10% responsibility:
PHH = total $
Wynder/ONE = total $
FWR = total $
Breckenridge = total $
Your 60% of that comes to total $.
You have alreadygiven me total $ towards it, so now you only owe me = total $

I also would like for you to pay for a call that you made from Alabama on your cell. Luckily the ones you made after 9pm were free, but there was one you made before 9pm @45 cents a minute = total $. You can leave a check for me on the table and I will pick it up this Friday when I'm there.
Have you decided to get your own cell account or are you just going to give the phone back to me?
FYI: I have my W-2. Still waiting on my statements from Sallie Mae, Fidelity & Teachers. You will have a statement coming from Principal as well.
cb
He knew this was coming. Son broke his arm in October. I told the STBX I would wait for all the bills to come in before I expected him to pay more.
Concerning the cell phone. We obviously still don't have that issue taken care off. I've paid the bill. The call he made was to his girlfriend on Christmas day.
This was his response:
I will leave a check but you could be a little nicerabout it. Provide a copy of the cell charges.How much of that 10% will you get reimbursed for?I have all my tax documents. Need a copy of your W-2for Ron (his attorney). As soon as possible.All garage items are on the side of the garage you used. I will have most everything else sorted in the house.If there is something you want please call me. Please do not leave the house in worse shape than youfind it Friday and Saturday. Please respect my privacyand understand that you are in my house. If you soilthe carpets please clean them. If you dent a wallplease fix it, etc... If you do not agree to any of this we will have toreschedule for a time when I can be there.
Thank you
At this point I'm outraged! I feel (once again) that I'm being talked down to and very much disrespected. He's asking me to be NICER. He's stating that the house that MY name is still on and MY furniture is still in is HIS...Whoa. That pushed my button. Dancer is done being nice. It's time for Dancer to stand up and slap the shit out of him. He's still trying to control the situation. Still. But why would he do that if he's so damn happy? As if.Anyways, this was my outburst replying back to him. No holds bar. Done being nice. I have tried very hard to be Above all of this. I've been the adult. I will treat him like the man he isn't.

I wasn't being "mean" I was matter of factly letting you know what I expect from you. Should I kiss your ass and say "Please Eric, it would be great if you pay for some of Isaacs medical." NOW I'm pissed because your not giving me the respect I deserve.
As far as "your" house. I have been pretty damn nice and lenient with our situation for the last six months. I have let you live in our house, when I could've lived there and made you pay the mortgage. I have gone along with all of your decisions and not gotten in the way of anything. At any time I could make you pay me my portion of the equity, but I have chose to treat you respectfully. I have left my furniture there and let you use it for the last six months.
I haven't said one god damn word about you having your girlfriend in OUR house. And you know very well I could've. I think it's kind of cheesy to invite your girlfriend over to a house you shared with your wife.
I have been nothing but respectful of your privacy.
I haven't bad mouthed you to your family, your parents don't even have a clue as to how this whole divorce got started. You said something shallow and awful that you can never take back and I haven't said anything to them about it. I've let everyone think that this whole thing was me acting alone. Every time your grandparents see me they ask me when I'll be "going back" and I have kept my mouth shut. Do they even know you've been seeing someone?
I haven't said a god damn word about your girlfriend to the boys. Even when you were talking bad about me and John to them. Isaac was a complete mess for a few weeks but I didn't say anything to you.
AND, you haven't paid child support for 6 months when I very well could've made you. I actually talked my lawyer out of ordering you to do so.
I continued to let you use the cell and paid for it, when at any time I can call and cancel your line.
When I've tried to be nice and actually be "your friend" you have emailed me and very specifically let me know how "great" you and your new girlfriend are which was like a slap in the face. I'm sure she would think that was a very mean thing for you to do too.
I have some really great stories about my life as well, but I have chose not to share them with you to spare your feelings. I have no intentions of hurting anyone.
As far as Isaacs medical bills go, you should really watch what you say around him. He was feeling very guilty about breaking his arm, because he knew you didn't have any money to pay the bills. I took care of talking to him and relieving him of his guilt. I would suggest that you be very careful what you say concerning your finances. It's none of the boys business and they shouldn't have to be concerned with it.
NOW LETS TALK ABOUT BEING "NICER." I think I deserve a bit more credit than what your giving me.
I have already shredded the cell papers and already paid the bill. I just thought that if you would like to be respectful and be a man that you would go ahead and pay for a 50 minute call you made to 8767 (assuming that's your girlfriend).
Any clue as to what you want to do about the cell? You didn't say, but it needs to be addressed.
I have no intention of creating a mess in "OUR" house on Friday or Saturday. I am not a vengeful person, I am above that and you damn well know that.
Any paper work that your attorney needs will need to come from my attorney. That's why we have lawyers so that I don't have to give you any paperwork and vice versa. If he needs something from me I suggest he talk to Paul.
As far as the medical bills go. The 10% is our responsibility. There is no reimbursement for that. AAC pays 90%, we pay the remaining 10%. That's how it's been all last year. That's how it is this year. And I will expect you to pay your part.
My mom and I will be at the house sometime Friday. And I will be at the house Saturday at 10:00 am with some friends to move the furniture. If you have a problem, I suggest that you ask your dad to chaperone. I'm sure he wouldn't mind.
If your so insistent on calling our house yours then I suggest you fork over my share of the equity and get my name off the mortgage. Then you can call it "yours."
I might change my mind about the kitchen table. You've had six months to get any furniture you might need. I don't owe you any favors. The only reason I was agreeing for you to borrow it was so that the boys had a place to sit and eat breakfast in the mornings.

Dancer out. Applause needed please. Gawd, I hate going to that level. I am better than that. But I felt it needed to be said. I demand nothing but respect. I am indeed not the same person he once knew. Meet the new dancer, who just might be getting her hands loose.

Non-conformist. Ha!

Technically I wasn't tagged. But I read a couple of posts that made it manditory that I was tagged if I read them.
So here goes.

4 Jobs
1) Waitress at Ike's. My first job at 16. Mostly served coffee and smiled at derogatory statements from the counter rats. Counter Rats = local senior men who have nothing better to do but drink 25 cent coffee all day and harrass the waitress. I had one of the older gentleman buy my beer for me though. He'd leave it in the landscaping and I would pick it up after I got off work and take off with my friends and a six pack.
2) Waitress at a local pizza place. My best friend and I worked there together. We both quit together too. I walked out the front door and she went around back and met me outside. We really showed them didn't we.
3) Assistant manager at a retail chain. I was 18. My first "real" job. Thats when I learned how much salary pay sucked.
4) Warranty Administrator for a company that made converters for RV's. Very early 20's. Desk job. My co-workers and my boss kicked ass! Company relocated to Mexico. I got a nice severence and college tuition out of it. And the rest is history...

4 Movies I watch over and over and over and over again
1) Like Duh...NIGHT AT THE ROXBURY. "Emilio!" The Butabi Brothers. Just can't seem to get enough of those crazy boys.
2) MOULIN ROUGE. "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return." When Mr. McGregor pops out in song...OH MY! I get chills. Mmm.
3) ELIZABETH. Always a nice reminder at just how empowered a woman can be.
4) CHOCOLAT. I like the non-conformity in this one. Boycott imorality. As if. Johnny Depp looks pretty damn fine in it too.

4 Places lived
1) Illinois
2) Michigan
3) Indiana
4) & Indiana ...yup, corn fed, white girl.

4 TV Shows
1) Religiously watch LOST. Only because I like Matthew Fox. Doc. I saw him at a lounge in LA ya know. So it's almost like we know each other.
Could really care less about any other TV shows but I don't mind watching the following only because I'm fasinated w/ forensic science:
2) NCIS
3) CSI
4) Cold Case

4 Foods
1) Key Lime pie
2) Coffee. I'm w/ Chuck, it's a staple.
3) Cottage Cheese. Weird, I know, but I crave the stuff. What's even weirder is that I wouldn't touch the stuff until last year. Now I can't get enough of it.
4) Pepperoni Pizza. Can't get enough I can inhale it. I like it even better when the sauce is sweet and the cheese is browned. Mmmm.

4 Places I've traveled
1) Orlando. A weekend trip to an Amway conference. Did the Universal Studios while there. Don't care if I ever go back. Oh and our car broke down on the way and we had to stop at some Floyds repair in Tennesse. That was interesting.
2) Bethany Beach, Delaware. Would love to go see my Teneille again.
3) Los Angeles. That's where I left my heart and my Yakkies.
4) Baltimore, Maryland. Loved the bay! Would have had a better time with better company. Left the STBX sitting in the room for 4 hours while I ventured out.
Turns out I'm a city girl at heart.

4 Places I'd rather be right now
1) In my own place.
2) anywhere with friends.
3) playing in dirt.
4) An address we call our own.

Metaphoric life

I can't concentrate. I just want to play. I have all of these tidal waves of emotions and I just can't function properly. I am so very out of my comfort zone. I have no constants in my life right now. The only contant I have is my job and even that will be changing soon with this new business venture. The new business scares the hell out of me. I crave change, but I'd like it in smaller doses. Not everything at once. I think I'm handling it well though. I'm trying to stick to a routine. On Mondays and Weds. I come home to the boys and we do homework and snuggle and read. On Tuesdays after work, I spend time with my friend working on the new business. On Thursdays after work, I go out for dinner and drinks with one of my friends. I have a schedule, but somehow it just doesn't seem like enough. I am missing a home. A haven. A sancuary. I am missing my things. This must be what it feels like for the military men and women over seas. Everything is temporary. I'm married, but I'm not. I'm just waiting for it to end, so something can begin again. I need to find myself a different vehicle, but I can't do anything about it while the divorce is in process. I just feel so "not together." I feel so out of sorts. I feel like I don't have any choices or free will. I feel like I'm just waiting. I'm trying to make the best of everything. I am not feeling sorry for myself, but I am very frustrated. Alright already, somethings gotta give. Something has to start flowing soon. My sweater is unraveling. Or maybe my sweater has completely unraveled and I'm just searching for the right color of yarn to crochet a new one. That's it. I'm vulnerable. I'm exposed. I'm trying to make the most beautiful sweater. The exact sweater I want, but I can't find the right color of yarn. In the meantime I'm learning how to feel comfortable while naked and cold. I am Linus while his blanket is in the dryer. I am completely and utterly out of my comfort zone. I know that the best time for personal growth is exactly when we are out of the comfort zone. I'm growing, I am. I am just really really cold and naked. I am scared to death, but I am not letting fear get the best of me. I keep putting on those hooker boots and dancing away. I keep smiling. I keep hope alive. I am not a quiter. I know that this will just make me appreciate the miracles that await that much more. I know this. I feel like it's right around the corner and I just can't see it yet. I feel like I'm running a relay. I'm the next runner waiting for the pass of the baton. I can almost feel it being slapped into my outstretched palm, but it's just not there yet. Come on. As soon as I have that baton, I will shoot around the bend in the track like a rocket. I will win this race, if I could just get that baton. I'm anxious. I'm ready to go. I'm just waiting for my turn.

Alas, my love affair w/ Phish Food has ended

One Girl, One Casino & One Bottle of Merlot

So travel I did. Took James advice and headed South. I had actually decided on Louisville. Always wanted to stay in Louisville. No reason. Just did. So I hopped in my truck around noon on Friday and was off. No reservations, no idea how to actually get to downtown Louisville but thought I'd figure it out when I got there. So I'm going down the 65 and see a billboard that announces "BELTERRA CASINO & SPA, exit here, turn left." Well Frell, that sounds fun...never been gambling. Goodbye Louisville, Hello Casino & Spa.

I followed the directions on the 2 billboards that I saw and wound up somewhere in the middle of BFE. I drove for a decade and nothing. Just little town after little town. Where the frell are those slot machines? Thank gawd for the compass on my dash. Time to pull over and pull out a map. Problem was...I didn't know exactly what town the casino was in. "Hello mom. Can you get online and tell me where the Belterra Casino is?" And then I lost my cell signal. Crap. Okay. General idea of where I'm going. I think it's somewhere near Vevay. After I yelled at my cell and pounded my stearing wheel real hard, I saw a beautiful flowing stream. "Oh look, a stream. Oh my is that...a mountain?" No. No mountains in the Hoosier state, but Southern Indiana is very hilly. All of a sudden there were hills everywhere. And along with hills come curvy, windy backroads. Thru backroads, by green pastures, over hills and past lots of junk cars, I trekked. And kept trekking until up in the distance I saw it. The casino. Right on the Ohio River between Louisville and Cincinnati. About an hour away from where I first saw the billboard.

Resort, 38,000 sq. ft. of casino, golf, 3 restaurants and a spa. I pulled up to the valet, grabbed my bag and walked in. There was a Ben & Jerrys to my left and a Starbucks to my right. "Honey, I'm home."

I checked in, walked in my room and did a little squeel. Not only was there a beautiful tiled shower, but also a jet tub. Cool. First things first, gotta pee. And I peed with the bathroom door open I did. Ah. Privacy. I haven't peed with the door open in like six months. It really is the little things isn't it.

Second, booked a massage at the spa for Saturday.

Third, called mom to let her know I was still alive. "Mom, I've found heaven on earth and it was only like a 4 hour drive." "Watch out for the weirdos," she says. And being the smart ass I am I say, "Um okay but what do they look like?" "Well they look normal but act a little weird," she says. Cool. Now I'm a divorced, bitter, weirdo. Then she says, "Be careful. Gambling addicts run on your dads side." Yah, like I'm going to squander my familys "fortune."

So I'm all settled and by this time it's close to 7pm and my stomach is eating my backbone. Do I venture downstairs and dine alone or do I order room service. Okay, room service it is. I'm thinking a bottle of wine to go with dinner, then maybe a hot bubble bath and maybe a pay per view. Save the adventure for tomorrow. "Hi, I'd like to place a dinner order. I'll have the jumbo shrimp cocktail, the Ceasar salad and a bottle of the Robert Mondavi Merlot please." It wasn't 10 minutes before the nice looking young man was knocking on my door. After wrestling with the cork and the useless plastic corkscrew for eternity (those blasted things), I finally poured my glass, plopped myself and the food tray on my king sized bed (yes, king) and devoured my dinner as I laughed to an episode of "Friends." (That Joey, I swear.) Can this get any better? I think not. And then it hits me: Ben & Jerrys. Ben & Jerrys=Phish Food in a waffle cone. Oh my. I wrestled with my convictions over Phish Food for about ten minutes before I put my shoes on and made a trip downstairs to indulge.

Phish Food and I have a history. It started with Chunky Monkey about 5 or 6 years ago and then turned into a complete obsession with Phish Food. I'm not kidding when I tell you I had at least 2 pints a week for about six months. I am not kidding. My rear is proof. I gained 20 lbs. And to top it all off...it started on a Valentines Day. Yes. Yes it did. Damn that blasted day. So to conclude; it was Valentines Day and Ben & Jerry that led to the complete demise of my marriage. Well, okay... I gave up the Phish Food, and the anti-depressant, and lost 24 lbs...and my marriage still declined. So why couldn't I indulge in a little Phish Food now? No reasons I could think of. I returned to my room with not one, but two scoops of Phish Food in a chocolate dipped waffle cone. The sad part is, it wasn't all that great. I couldn't for the life of me remember why I had an obsession with Phish Food. Ah. Oh yes...seeking love in the bottom of a pint of icecream. They don't call it comfort food for just any ol' reason now do they. (But that's another story entirely.) I tossed about half the cone in the trash. Didn't need it. Didn't really want it. Hmmm. All sorts of revelations and confirmations there.

On to the bubble bath. I poured myself another glass of Merlot, adjusted the bathroom TV (yes, Bathroom TV) so I could watch "Ghost Whisperer" while I soaked. It really is the simple things. I gave up a garden tub when I left my house w/ the STBX, but it just makes me appreciate a nice long soak in the tub just that much more.After the bath, I poured myself yet another glass of Merlot and ferretted in with my booketh.

Day Two
At 9am, a rather annoying emergency alarm went off. Turns out it was just a false alarm, but didn't stop the whole hotel from venturing down to the lobby. Lucky for me, I was already up and dressed. I felt bad for the gals in their PJs. I think it was just a ploy to get everyone downstairs for Starbucks and baked goods. I'm positive it was.

I ventured to the casino. Was a bit overwhelmed. Walked around the whole place just observing. I've never gambled before. Never played the slots. Hadn't the first clue. Figured it out pretty darn quick though. I stuck to the quarter and nickel slots. I'm not going to tell you how much I lost. But my mom will be happy to know I didn't squander anyones fortune and indeed knew where the limit was.

I ate lunch by myself at one of the restaurants. People are not conditioned to be alone. I was standing at the sign that read "Please wait to be seated" and the hostess asked me if I was looking for someone. "No. No, party of one. I'm a weirdo."

I had a late afternoon full body massage. I indulge in the ol' back massages every now and then. I really needed this one after that stent with my stiff neck a week or so ago. I just about jumped off the table a couple of times when she was working my scapula areas. Whoa, those were some big daddy knots. When she was done, she admitted that I really needed that massage. "Yah, about 12 years of headaches and stress to releive. You had your work cut out for ya ma'am."

For dinner I got all dolled up and trekked back downstairs. The restaurants were crowded and I really, really, didn't want to sit at a table by myself. Just couldn't do it. So I went back upstairs and once again called room service. After all I still had a half a bottle of Merlot. So I get my dinner tray (French onion soup, Chicken breast sandwich and really yummy fries.) Changed into my jammies and watched a pay per view.

Later, I stepped out into the hallway to place my dinner tray out and all of a sudden...bump, click, I was locked out of my room. With no key. Bare feet. In my PJ's. In my t-shirt that reads "Do you like my coconuts?" Luckily, I still had my bra on, but of course it had to be the black one under a white t. Ah Shit. Please gawd. Do not make me go down to the lobby in my PJ's. There are tons of people down there. Please, Please no. At that very instant I thought I had entered some sort of time warp and had switched places with Andi. This sounds like something that would be in Andi's journal. I called on my courage, took a deep breath and headed towards the elevators. There just happened to be a nice couple in the elevator heading down. I asked if they would please stop at the front desk and tell someone to come up with a key because I really wasn't dressed appropriately. Those sweet, sweet, dear people. May gawd bless them. A nice front desk clerk appeared minutes later with an extra key.

Upon entering my room, I poured myself another glass of Merlot and toasted to, well, myself. Here's looking at you kid.

I left early on Sunday and made it home around 1pm. That was fun. Better than sitting at home, er, my parents house, watching re-runs of "Charmed." Bravo Dancer. Bravo. Job well done. Except, I still haven't made it to Louisville. Oh well, there's always next month.

I foundeth a booketh

Oh sweet heavens, I have found a book but unfortunetly I am just about done with it.

"A Bride Most Begrudging" by Deeanne Gist.
A period piece. An English daughter of Earl has been kidnapped and taken to the American colonies, against her wishes, and sold as a bride in trade for tobacco. To her advantage, her husband is a nice, repectful, God fearing man. She is anything but domesticated. Smart, witty, full of fire. Wants nothing more than to go back home. In the meantime she will do what needs done no matter how challenging. She will survive. Somewhere along the way she has fallen in love with the man who has purchased her. And he with her. Indeed sometimes the most dreadful things have a way of working out. After all..."it's in the script."

I borrowed this book from my mom. She has an extinsive shelf of "Christian" novels. I tend to try and stay away from them. They make me sad. I often find that Christianity has some woeful tales. The last "Christian" series I read was another period piece about an American woman falling in love with a Jewish man during the British occupancy. I forget the name of the series, but I had to stop reading mid-series because they were depressing me.

Before that I was reading the Anne Rice Vampire Chronicles. "Memnoch The Devil" was a very beautiful piece. Um, yah, no matter how much I loved them, they were indeed too very dark for someone on an anti-depressant already.

I really, really needed something light and uplifting...the very reason Andrea suggested the Stephanie Plum novels by Janet Evanovich. I read the first nine in a matter of a couple of months. I laughed out loud. I fantasized about Morelli.

Most recently I've been on a Sandra Brown kick. Tales of strong women, lust and a mystery. Mmmm. I love a good sex scene.

I also have a fasination with childrens books. I love a well written childrens story. I have many favorites. We have a whole bookshelf full of childrens books. A few I saved from my childhood, but many I bought when my oldest was just a wee lad.

I have a small collection of "literary works." "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." "Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator." "The Scarlett Letter." "Alice in Wonderland." And so on and so forth.

I love a good story...don't even get me started on my movie collection.

You can tell a great deal about a person just based on their book and film collections. Although my film collection is much different from my book collection:
Elizabeth
GI Jane
U571
Moulin Rouge
Peter Pan
Bring it on
Night at the Roxbury
Bridgett Jones
Duece Bigalow
Something about Mary
The Game
American Pie
Charlies Angels #2
Harry Potter #1/#2/#3

Movies I need to add to the collection:
Oh Brother Where art thou - let someone borrow, never returned
The 40 yr. old Virgin
Life is Beautiful- let someone borrow, never returned
Pride & Prejudice 05'
Must Love Dogs
Fight Club
Fried Green Tomatoes
I see more and more that I must have all the time.

There you go...sum me up. Ha. As if.
Recommendations on good books wanted. This one won't be lasting me long.

My Village

You will find me in the village of the western corridor.
Down by the old canal.
That is where my heart lies.
When you visit, be sure to stop at the used bookstore.
Pages upon pages waiting for your selection.
For lunch you can grab organic at the co-op.
Stop by the community garden for some fresh broccoli to cook with dinner.
Don't worry, the potatoes you planted are safe from harm.
I can promise you that.
This is your new life remember.
Say "Hi" to her, as she enters the shelter for the first time.
Fear on her face. Scars you may never see.
Big steps she took, you know that path well.
Be sure to show her love,
for she might just swear it off altogether after that.
Be sure to stroll by the river on your way to yoga class.
Your release awaits you.
I will be there to hold you and tell you it will all be okay.
After class stop by for a fresh Venti' Latte' with a shot of butter rum.
They are a fair trade bean.
Brought to you by a local roaster.
While you're there sit down on the sofa and chit-chat with your friends.
Enjoy the melodies of the local soloist performing today.
applaud loudly, for a brave career is about to begin and you were here to witness.
Did she read that in the cards, you wonder.
Your own reading awaits.
The fireworks will be in the sky tonight.
In the sky and in your heart.
independence is not taken lightly.
You know the battle well.
Let's throw a blanket on the lawn and mingle with the fellow villagers.
The festival will be here all week.
Multitudes of faces hustle and flow.
The energy is everywhere.
Life is everywhere.
This is the village where I live.
The village where my heart lies.
The village I will share with you.
The village of the western corridor.
Down by the old canal.

1.18.06 by CarolB.

He restoreth my soul...

The green pastures are somewhat snow colored. The still waters are somewhat frozen. But once again my soul has been restored. There is so much that happened just last night, I'm going to try to organize it here. Bare with me.

Those that new me as "Mike the Dawg" over in AOL country (I freaked and deleted that entire blog), might have read about my yoga release last year.
Recap: Last Jan. Andrea and myself took a trip to L.A. to visit Trish, Robbie and Gigi. We both badly needed a soul restoring vacation and by mysterious ways we ended up in California. It never ceases to amaze me that we were indeed meant to go exactly there. Anyways, back to the yoga release. We all took a yoga class at Goda Yoga taught by my dear sweet Cheryl. Towards the end of the class, in corpse pose, my chin starts quivering and I start to cry. I'm choking back tears and I have no idea why on earth I am crying. I was fairly new to yoga and hadn't a clue what a Yoga release was. I almost made it out of the studio undetected. If it wasn't for that sneaky little Cheryl. She caught me and hugged me and said everything would be alright. Honest to Gawd, it was a life changing moment for me. I believe my soul was being prepared for what awaited me on my return home. (At that time I was clueless to any troubles in the marriage. Everything was hunky-dorey. Or so I thought until I returned home. Surprise!)

Anyways, where was I going with this? Ah yes.

I haven't mentioned much about my new business venture. A friend and I have been putting together a business plan. Last night we had a meeting with a couple of gals that have been established business owners for over 20 years and are looking for an partnership to include EXACTLY what we want to do. And yes, we were looking for EXACTLY what they themselves bring to the table as well. A chance meeting turned into a very exciting and spiritual dream. The possiblities are endless and for four people to be on the very same page is extremely rare and amazing. Even the city is re-developing a four street radius to host businesses such as this. It was a confirmation really. (I can't go into detail at the moment, I'll save the dream for another entry.)

Anyways, one of the possibilities mentioned was a garden. Anyone that knew "Mike the dawg" knew about my green thumb and the violated potatoes.
Recap: I LOVE to garden. I had to give up my garden when I left the STBX. It literally broke my heart walking away from my garden in the middle of the harvest season. The MIL and the STBX decided to harvest my potatoes. Too early might I add. They picked my gawd damn potatoes. That very act crushed me. Made me boil with anger. It literally made me cry. That was my garden. My work. My joy.

Anyways, the possibility of a garden came up in this business meeting last night. My friend Layli' looks at me, points to me and says "This girl loves to garden." Instantly my eyes start watering. Chin starts quivering. My heart jumps up in my throat. I'm in the middle of this meeting and I'm crying. Where did that come from? I had a vision of me in a garden. Of course I had to explain the reason I started crying. "Geesh I can't believe I'm crying over potatoes. I'm so sorry," I said. The women both look at me and say, "No, don't apologize. It's more than potatoes. Crying is a cleansing of the soul. When you get it out, it makes room for more love." I was waiting for Cheryl to pop out from around the corner at any time.

One of the last conversations I had with DK involved him telling me that crying should be reserved for "the birth of babies and the death of loved ones. That's it."
He basically told me I was out of control. I took that to heart. In the past couple of months I have tried to put my emotions in a box and not let them come out. Who am I kidding? I am a Pisces. My emotions are very much a part of me. I am not scared of my emotions. My emotions are valid no matter what they are. DK wasn't worthy. DK was not of the same caliber. He couldn't handle. Now, don't get me wrong, I am not an out of control, sobbing, emotional wreck. I am not that. But I am a very passionate person and I am not afraid to be exactly who I am. I am very much in touch. I feel with my heart. I can't believe that I almost listened to him. I almost tucked that away because of what he said. But then when I heard what the women said about tears being a "cleansing of the soul to make room for more love"... I realized that DK doesn't have a clue. DK can stand at the edge of the ocean with the STBX and wonder what the water feels like...I will swim with the sharks. As Ani says "I will take out my tampon and start splashing around." Thank you very much. I am not scared.

So there you have it. I was crying over violated potatoes in a business meeting and somehow my soul has been restored.

Random Thoughts

It's okay that I find Sean Penn and Tom Seleck very attractive isn't it? That thought scares me just a little bit. The other night I watched "Mystic River" w/ Sean Penn and fell in love. He didn't have the same effect on me in "Sam I am."
I've always been a big fan of Tom Selecks. Ever since the Magnum PI days. I watched a made for TV movie "Jesse Stone: The Night Passage" and realized that "Magnum" has indeed changed with the times...no more short shorts, but still very attractive to me. How old is he anyways? (Morelli, if you're reading you can stop laughing you mean old bastard.) I am also haunted by the effect that Robert Plant has on me. The younger, tight jeans wearing Robert Plant makes me shiver with excitement.
Come to think of it, I've never been into men (boys) my own age. Not even in Highschool. I thought the boys in Highschool were fake. They just seemed very disrespectful and ignorant. Still do. Pa-Leeze! Then again, having a baby so young kinda makes one grow up fast.
I was having dinner w/ my friend Jen the other night and she said the waiter was checking me out. Um, I didn't even notice. He was what, like 16? For real...
Even most of my girlfriends are older than me. I don't notice it. I wonder if they see the gap?
When I was in second grade I was dearly in love with an eighth grader named Nathan and w/ Michael Jackson. Now that's a troubling thought.
I'm left to conclude that I was indeed born a decade too late. That would explain why I love black & white movies. Indeed, that would explain a lot of things.

Another troubling thought is that I'm actually considering putting my profile on a singles site. I'm kinda fearful, but it could also be kinda fun. I know people who have met their spouses on-line. I've met some of the greatest people I know on-line. I don't know where I would be without the Yakkies today if it wasn't for the internet. And I'm obviously not going to meet anyone in a bar. Especially the bars/clubs I frequent. Going to a bar/club is more for my enjoyment than to meet someone. And seriously, it's not like I'm going to meet someone doing laundry on the weekends. (Note to self: Start going to laundromat.) Or working in this dungeon (Morelli, I said stop laughing). Is posting a profile on the internet considered desperate? Cause I'm not that desperate. I'm just available and very new to this whole "dating" catastrophe. I mean seriously, it's not like I'm not already "on the internet." I mean I do have a blog don't I. It's basically the same thing right? Forming relationships with people you've never met. I talked a friend of mine into going to one of those speed dating things with me. All the upcoming events are booked (must be popular), but she said she would do it with me in the future. All I can think about are the scenes from "The 40 yr Old Virgin." Am I seriously considering that? Am I just asking for trouble or am I asking for fun and new adventures? It perplexes me.

I'm also troubled by the fact that I can't seem to read lately. I now have three books that have been read about a chapter in and I just can't seem to focus and stay interested. I've always been an avid reader, so why can't I seem to do it now? Maybe I just haven't found the right book. The last book I read was "Envy." That was a good one. Maybe I'm just having trouble finding one of the same caliber. I've been more into movies lately. I find it weird though that a film like "The Constant Gardener" can hold my attention, but a book can't. Doesn't make any sense.

I'm considering getting a "Foot Bath." A couple of friends of mine had a foot bath done. From what I understand it's sort of a cleansing ritual. A sort of "mapping" of the body. You stick your feet into a tub of water and are hooked up to a computer that sends some sort of messages thru your systems and cleanses. And hence, lets you know where your body needs a little extra attention. My one friends water turned black. Hmmm. Intriguing. Maybe I'll try it. It's fairly inexpensive...but seriously COME ON.

This coming weekend is haunting me. It's my weekend without the kids. Bummer. Three whole blocks on the calendar without anything written in them. Finding things to fill my empty spaces is sometimes challenging. Honestly, if I had my own place it wouldn't be such a big deal. In your own home, you can find things to do. I do have to get my oil changed. There's 20 minutes booked. Maybe I'll take a road trip. Stay over night somewhere I've never been. Why not? I can. Maybe I'll just start driving on Friday and see where I end up on Saturday. I've never been that spontaneous. Hmmm.

I read a quote the other day that stuck. I read it on someones blog, but now I can't remember where. Anyways...
"Like Linus when his blanket is in the dryer."
That's what I feel like. No security. Just waiting for something to happen. Can't do anything about it. Totally out of my comfort zone.
That pretty well sums it up. I've never had this feeling before. I've always had things happening. Always into something. Always secure.
This isn't necessarily a bad feeling...just different. I don't particularly like it, but I'm an optimist, I'll survive.

And those, my friends, are my random thoughts.

Flowers in the basement

Lyrics from Counting Crows "She Likes the Weather":

Life is simple. Life is sweet.
Oh, so saddle up and go.
Little cowgirl, in the underground,
she talks to people she doesn't know.
Oh, people on the train to Eden
The circus girl, after all the rodeos,
she settles down alone.
She planted flowers in her basement
so she has a little color when the sky runs low.

She likes the weather today
She said "It's raining' in my head"
All of the flowers I've raised
Come up a little cloudy
Life is bitter. Life is cheap.
The cowgirl settles down alone.
Yeah, ten years out of Eden now
She's got a little garden of her very own.

I speak your language

Yanno, sometimes it's really hard being a parent. I'm not scared of much, but one of my biggest fears is screwing my children up. We all have at least one positive or negative thing that our parents have said or done to us. That one thing that will outlast eternity. That one thing that we will carry in our hearts forever. The one thing that I remember my dad telling me - "Always wrestle the bear." Meaning, "no regrets."

So what is it that I will say to my children that they will carry? What example am I setting. That freaks me out. I say a lot of crazy things. I do a lot of crazy things.

I left their father. It wasn't easy. That example weighed on my heart very heavily. Honestly, over the years I remember at least 4 very specific times that I almost left. I'm talking hand on the door knob, just steps from the car. There were two things that stopped me: #1 I can't take the kids away from their father. What damage would that do? #2 I cannot survive on my own as a single mother. Well, #2 I accomplished. Over the years I did what needed done to be independant.

#1 however, took a little longer to come to terms with. What was finally the straw that broke the camels back:
1)If the STBX was verbally abusive to me, what made me think that he was not verbally abusive to them.
2)If I continue to allow the STBX to treat me this way, if I stay, I am setting that same example for my children. I am basically telling them that their feelings and their lives are not valid either. Take it with sugar honey, it tastes better. Go ahead, choke it down it's just poison.
3)My children deserve two happy parents. Granted, I would have liked that their parents could co-parent in the same household, but it's not going to happen that way.
4)My children need to see an example of a strong woman. A woman who stands up and says "No." Not a woman who endures and melts under pressure. Not a broken woman. My children need to know how to treat other people, how to be sensitive to other's feelings.
Hopefully those are the examples my children will eventually see from me. They will not feel sorry for me. They will be proud of me. And from me they will gain a strong sense of individualty.

This weekend my oldest son and I were being crazy and throwing out crazy slang. We have our own secret hand shake. We call each other "Dude" and "Dawg". We have a lot of fun. We speak each others language. We laugh a lot. In order to talk to a fifth grader, you must be on the same level as a fifth grader. It opens the door for more in-depth heart to heart conversations. It gives the sense of safety and honesty is shared.

I regretfully inform you that my fifth grader is now interested in girls. This is the hard part about being a parent. This is where you want them to make good decisions and hope that you have taught them well. Frankly, I don't want him to be interested in girls. I want him to be interested in cars, and bugs, and music, and video games. Forget the girls.

How we got on the subject went something like this:
IB) "Mom, what time will we be home?"
ME) "Why, do you have a hot date?" - my response to all the times asked "when will we be there" or "how long will this take?"
IB) "Who says it's just ONE hot date?"
ME) In shock in awe. Can barely speak. "Whoa. Slow down Casanova."
Casual chitter chatter about girls...
ME) "It's okay not to have a girlfriend" - Reality hitting me hard here. Seeing my own reflection.
IB) "No it's not."
ME) "Sure it is. Look at me, I don't have a boyfriend."
IB) "What about the UPS guy?"
ME) "That was just ONE date. He's not my boyfriend."
IB) "Well you have dad."
ME) "UM...ah, uh, no. No I don't have daddy." Shudder, gag.
IB) Quickly realizes that I indeed do not have daddy. Daddy has replaced me with "a new friend."
End of conversation. Change the subject quick.

What I really fear, and I'm just going to say it and please don't take this the wrong way, is that his father has given him a bad example. His father hasn't been single at all. He jumped from our marriage to another "serious" relationship in the matter of a month. No individuality. Sure, I could've made that same mistake. But I didn't and now I know why. It's not that I don't want my children to realize the beauty of love or being in love. I'm not against that. I just don't want them to make the same mistakes I did. But I realize, I can only do so much.

Maybe I'm over-reacting here. Maybe it's just a simple case of the normal fifth grader starting to like the girls he's been in class with for six years now. Gawd, I hope. I guess that as long as I speak the same language and keep myself in check, then we might just be okay.

I'm a biter not a bitter.

* Later edit - Um, just for the record, if it sounds like I'm upset about what Sneakz wrote about me being bitter...I am not upset. I harbor no ill thoughts toward Sneakz...in fact, no, never mind, I shall not share the thoughts I do have about Sneakz, I'll save that for the porn chatroom. (Totally kidding. Sorta.)Winka Winka.
What I was trying to say here is it was at that moment that I realized I was still hurting. Like Duh. I don't want to hurt. Frankly, the STBX isn't worth that energy and time. I want to move on. So bad.
In order to do that I have to forgive myself. I have changed so much in the last year, I'm just trying to keep pace with it all and accept it all. And this is where I see my reflection. Some days I'm happy with what I see. Some days I am not. But I have to accept all of it. I know that bitter won't be around forever. In the meantime I'll just have fun with it.

So, I'm not going to lie...I was shocked when I read Sneakz plug and it said I was "bitter."
I read that and I was like:
"OMG Dude, I'm so bitter. Wow."
"Ack, but I don't want to be bitter."
"Why am I so bitter? The STBX did me a favor."
"So what if I'm bitter, I'm allowed."
"But geesh, I really don't want to be bitter."
"A nasty, bitter, spinster, who sings along to Lita Ford all day."
"I won't be bitter forever. This is just healing."
"If you knew what I put up with from The STBX all of those years, you would be bitter too."
"But see, that's why I'm bitter. Because I allowed it. Shame on me."
"Yah, but seriously, I wouldn't be such a great person now, if I hadn't experienced all of those things."

Those are basically all of the things that went thru my head. And basically I'm left to conclude that being bitter is just part of the healing process. Bitter won't be here forever. Right now, I'm just in this stage where my eyes are open to all of that shit I allowed and made excuses for. Like the whole locked keys in the car incident. It just popped up in that entry like it had happened yesterday. I hadn't thought of that incident for years...it just showed up in that entry and I was amazed by it. Wow. He did that and I accepted it. I was hurt and I didn't say a gawd damn thing. Wow. Things like this have been popping up in my head for the last six months. I'm not going to lie... over the years he did some damage and I just took it. I accepted it. I can't believe I accepted it. Love is blind.
I did love him for years! And anybody that knows the STBX, knows that it can't of been easy (bitter). He is not a bad man, but he is a selfish asshole.
The difference now is that I no longer love him. I am no longer blind. In fact I see the errors of my ways and I think that's what makes me so bitter. I'm angry at myself. How could I have just sat back and allowed it? I'm just realizing this. Right now, right here. I am angry at me.
Wow.
Well, we all know how to fix that now don't we... a good ol' jack n coke. Ha, just kidding. I'm seriously not a lush, I just pretend to be. (This is me making a funny and trying to change the subject. Andrea, you know me so well. Winka.)
Guess Dancer needs to forgive herself and untie those hands. A work in progress. Back to the whole NY Resolutin...Forgive, Forget and just be Happy. In time.
In the meantime... I'm thinking of sending myself a dozen roses to my office on V-day. Those people love to talk...that'll give them something to talk about (and put a devilish grin on my face.) Any suggestions on what the card might say? I'm thinking along the lines of "You Rocked my World."
Sneakz...I think I'm gonna need the address of your office as well...I've got something cooking up for you baby! They might see the good Jewish boy in a whole new light when I'm done. If we can't join them we might as well beat them...

Secret recipe

Secret recipe 

I was actually just playing around with my picture software and figuring out how to upload pics here.
However, this is from Christmas Eve. The somewhat successful attempt at creating the MIL's secret recipe sugar cookies. I am totally not kidding when I say that it is a secret recipe. With good reason. They are the best cookies you will ever savor. I was married to The STBX for five years before I was given the recipe by the MIL. It was a Christmas gift one year. Yup. Totally not kidding. I attempted to re-create them a couple of times without success (according to The STBX's standards.) They are a very challenging recipe. They require much patience. This year, I had to prove to myself that I indeed had the talent and the patience. I succeeded. I kicked everyone out of the kitchen. I played Tori Amos to calm my nerves. I was in the zone. I burnt the first tray, but didn't lose hope. I was going to do this if it killed me.
I did it and it didn't kill me. And when I was done...I could've cared less. I realized that I'm not perfect. I realized I am not the MIL and nor did I ever want to be. I realized I didn't give a rats ass about any gawd damn secret recipe sugar cookies. If I want an excellent cookie, I will find an Otis Spunkmeier.
I suceeded.

Walking my hat

breathing 

Silly girl Andi. "Walking my hat." As if.
This pic is from the fall. Shortly after I left the STBX and moved in with my parents. One of the first weekends that it was just me and the kids. I needed to feel that sense of individuality so I grabbed my camera, my hat, and my kids and headed outside in the rain to get some fresh new pictures of our new life together. It's one of the first times I exhaled. Thus, I titled it breathing.
Besides all of that...I like the vivid kelly green of the grass and the changing colors of the trees. That's one thing I love about the Mid-west is the changing of the trees. There is about a 2-3 week window, and if you're not looking, you could miss it. I make it a point to point out my favorite colors to the kids as we are driving. Flourescent pink and flourescent orange are my faves.

Walk it off

I'm in some kinda funk today. Funky town. Me no like this. I think it started yesterday and now I'm just tryin to shake it.

I dropped the children off to the STBX yesterday. I had to go inside to retrieve the past 10 years of tax returns to make copies. It's weird entering your own "home" that's no longer your "home." Weirdness.

The kids had to show me something cool in "daddys bedroom." Um. Weirdness again. And yah, I caught a glimpse of the framed photo on the night stand. The photo of presumably "daddys new friend." Nice. Walk it off...

As I was leaving the house, the STBX was asking questions and I responded like I had responded for the past twelve years...by starting my response with his nickname "Babe." Ug. Why oh why did I have to let that one slip. Dancer you dumb-dumb. It's okay, walk it off. Just a little mistake, that won't happen again. But why do I have to be the one to do it?

I talked to Morelli on the phone yesterday. Again, just weirdness. I made a mistake and I knew better. I'm still struggling with those boundaries. It'll come in time. It's okay, walk it off.

I met my friend Jen for what was supposed to be a heart healthy work-out. Instead our work out consisted of chips and salsa and lifting our fish bowls of margaritas. It was good. Not very productive, but still good.

I had scheduled a sitter for the kids tonight. I was supposed to meet a friend out to celebrate her divorce after a very long and drawn out battle. Knowing how she feels and knowing how much she needed me there for support, I committed. And frankly, I was very excited. She cancelled the celebration. Some other time. Just a little let down.

So Starbucks has all of their V-Day merchandise out already. I'm dreading the super market. For real, do we have to start with it this soon? I haven't even gotten the boycott paperwork drawn up or made my cardboard sign or come up with some kind of anti-chant. That's it...I'm packing my bags and flying out tomorrow. Move some of those books Sneakz, I'm on my way. You like Jack right? Or wine, I do wine too. Does your bird talk? I seem to talk to animals when I'm drunk.

I had my hair cut today. She's cut my hair for twelve years now. Been friends with her and her boyfriend for years. Last month her and the boyfriend were having some difficulty. This month everything is peachy. Things have worked themselves out. I'm happy for her. Them. It's good.

I had a dream last night that had DK, and the STBX in it. It was a highly emotional dream. Still trying to shake it. I hate dreams like that. Makes me never want to sleep again.

So I'm in this funk. I'm not depressed. I'm not happy. Just funky. Must go now to help my mom decorate my neices b-day cake. How do I get involved in these things?

Mass love.

I just received one of those mass emails that you forward to the ones you love. Hence "mass emails." I usually don't take the time to read these, delete, delete, delete...but this one was special. It was basically about the circle of women friends and how a person can have many, many best friends. This touched me because I never really knew how important friends were until I needed them the most this past year. I have such a great network of friends. I am very fortunate to love and be loved so darn much. This post I dedicate to those selective bunch.
The friend I've had the longest (since 5th grade), Teneille, lives far away from me. We actually only talk every now and then. We have only seen each other twice in the last 6 years. But Teneille is still very much a part of me. We share a connection and a bond that has lasted the test of time. I love you Teneille and always will.
I have my college friend, Mary. Mary was my saving grace through college. She really, really was. I grabbed onto her with both hands and will never let go. We don't see much of each other. We email back and forth to stay in touch. But Mary is still very much a part of me and we share a special bond. I love you Mary Alice!
I have Andrea, that HOT red-head that likes to smack my ass. We are often the bright spot in each others lives. Even though she moved a million miles away, it still feels like she is very much by my side. She has those one liners that just make you want to pee your pants from laughing so hard. I love you Andrea!
I have my circle of friends at work. My buddy Ray who always has my back and has allowed me to shed tears on his shoulder more than once. My very newly acquired friends Stacy, Tracy & Taryn. My friend Jen who has been my sidekick through the last year. No judgments ever, just love, hugs and smiles. Randy "Da Bomb" who always has good things to say to me each and every day. The work list goes on, but I love these people. I have been with them for three years now and I wouldn't know what to do without them.
I have my circle of friends in California. Robbie, Trish, Gigi, Cheryl, Hunny. I have a very very special place in my heart for them. A million miles away but have carried me through some of the roughest days ever. I love them more than I could ever say. They are my life line. They are my peace. They are my home. I love you Yakkies.
I have this circle of friends on the blog-o-sphere. Even though I've never met half of you...I know you and I love you. I know that one day we'll meet and it'll be like we've known each other forever. Here we get the unrated versions of the Id and somehow we keep coming back for more. You will never know how much your lives have touched mine. When you hurt, I hurt. When you laugh, I laugh. Your typed words are etched on my heart. I love you guys! Kris, Amy, Yakkies, Sneakz, Spyder, Steph, Moksha etc...etc...etc... I love this "train ride."
I have my Morelli. Even though we don't always agree, we always accept and love. Morelli has seen me through some pretty rough spots. I can't even count the ways I adore him. I truly love that man. I love you Morelli, more than you'll ever know. More than I'll ever be allowed to show you. You are my one true Morelli.
I have my "Learning Curve", an old friend that was there for me when I needed to feel loved. When I needed to feel beautiful, he was there. I haven't actually talked to him for five years, but there is too much history there to ever forget that special bond. Just recently he delivered a message through the grapevine "Whatever she needs, whenever she needs it." Even though there is too much history there to ever freely show it. I still love my "Learning Curve." I hold him very close to my heart.
I have my brother. This kid knows EVERYTHING about me and vice versa. We used to hate each other. We used to throw chairs at each other and scream at each other. Then one day he was on deaths door and we bonded. Now, twelve years after that we are the first people we call when life gets a little rough. Not to fix it, not to help guide the way through it, just to let each other know that we're here and we see each others promising future. We will grow old together, my brother and I. We will have very trying times ahead, but we will always have faith in each other. We see the others strengths through the weakness. I love my brother.
I have my friend, Layli'. I'm positive we were friends in a past life. We're very different, but that's what we love about each other. We compliment each other well. I love Layli'. And through Layli' I have her husband Scott. Where as my husband didn't like most of my friends, Scott adores me and welcomes me into his home. He truly cares about me and that has opened my eyes in so many ways. I love Layli' and Scott.
My mom and dad. No words needed just unconditional, endless love and support. I love those two. No matter what, I still love them.
And in the spirit of love...I have me. Most often my best friend. I trust me with all of my heart. I know me, better than I know anyone else. I love me.
That right there is my "inner circle." That's a lot of people I hold very dear. These aren't just anybodies. These are my true friends. All a part of me. All, the loves of my life. I am very humbled and very, very fortunate. I wish I could express how much I love you, but there are just no words to come close.

Ah man...

I hate when that happens. I saw a fresh bouquet of spring blooms on the desk of someone at work. I commented on how lovely they were. The vivid colors on a grey winter day. They were from her husband. No reason. Just because. "Oh how very sweet." Then she proceeded to tell me about all of the very sweet things he does. Love letters. Notes in her car. Tokens of his undying love. "Oh how beautiful." Then what got me was the proposal...
She had been a divorced mother. Him and her met and dated for four years. After four years, he never proposed, instead he said "What will it be like when we're married?" She shrugged, "Dunno." Wondering if and when they would ever be married. Then he said "you can set the date." That was the proposal...or lack of.
After ten years of marriage, him and her went out to dinner. He opened up a diamond ring box and officially proposed to her. She told me about it today as tears stung her eyes and a smile crossed her face. Yup, that's where the tears got me. I'm usually a cold hearted bitch (ha.)
She looked up at me and said, "He's out there. Just be patient."
Drying my tears as I walked away...I ran into another fellow employee who asked why I was drying tears. Told her about the bouquet on the desk. This fellow employee said, "It'll fall into your lap when you least expect it." Mmm. k. Thanks.

Ah man. I hate when this happens. Ewe. Someone please like gag me with a pitchfork. I don't care. I really don't. Sure it would bring joy to my life if I had a lover. But it's really okay. I know things happen when and how they are supposed to happen. I know patience is a virture that's growing on me. If you want to know about patience, try listening intently (keyword) to a "Nate the Great" book read to you every Monday and Wednesday by your eight year old, without butting in and just reading the damn story to him. That's patience. Try acting very interested as you sit there and watch your eleven year old show you how he can get to the next level on some game on the PS2. That's patience. Try being an adult and living with your space invading mother (who I love and appreciate dearly.)That's patience. Try washing your face with cold water because the parents water heater doesn't work so well. That's patience. Try listening to your very long winded brother concoct some story about how he had to sleep in the barn as a child. That's patience. Try wanting very bad to fly to LA and see your friends, who you haven't seen in a year, but knowing that flight money should be saved and spent on your childrens needs first. That's patience. Try having your house on the market for four months all the while the STBX is living very comfortably there and occasionally having his girlfriend over. That's patience. Try being met at the back door, of your mothers house, everyday by your mother who really wants to talk and all you want to do is pee. That's patience. I've got it mastered. Patience and I are tight. We've got our own club, you've got to know the secret password to join. If one more person tells me to be patient...I will most likely injure them.

Look at these hands...

These hands of mine. They look so tough to me. I stared at them for an eternity yesterday. Just trying to find the moment they started to show my age. I am not old, but I am older. The bones are there, the veins, the scars. I started thinking of these hands and where they had been. They have been with me every single day.

I saw the calloused bump on my right 4th digit; just above the distal joint, just below the nail bed. That's where my pencil has rested thru endless pages of letters to friends, school homework, college notes. That's where my pen rested the day I forged a doctors signature on an excuse note in highschool. I remember that day well. I felt a tinsy bit of freedom from the rigors of life that day, only to pay the consequences later.

I can't help but think that's where my pen rested the day I signed my name on a marriage certificate. I was seventeen. I was so young. How beautiful my hands must've been that day. Signing my name only to pay the consequences later. I remember that day well.

Those were the same hands that now have that indenture on my left 4th digit, where my wedding ring found a home for eleven years. Everyday for eleven years, except when my fingers swelled so much with my pregnancy that I had to take the ring off and wear it around my neck on a chain. I remember the day when my husband accidentally locked the keys in the car. I was pregnant, we had gone out for breakfast. As soon as he realized the keys were locked in the car, and that my extra set were locked in the apartment, he started yelling at me. I sat threw breakfast chocking down pancakes with tears in my eyes. It was of course my fault that he locked the keys in the car. We walked across town to where my mom worked. She had an extra set of keys to the apartment. Those were the days without cell phones, or at least we were too poor to own one. It was late August, sweat poured out of my pregnant self. Those same hands swollen and trembling with anger and a heart aching. I remember that day well. I never forgot my keys in the apartment after that. For eleven years, I never left the house without my keys. For eleven years I never got out of the car without first making sure his keys were not left in the ignition. No ring now, just the indention and the memories.

So many memories with these hands.

I remember my first manicure. She massaged the muscles in my hands. How it felt so good. How amazed I was that my hands could be so tense. Years after that first manicure I decided on the luxury of fake fingernails. For someone that has always had short, brittle nails, oh how beautiful those fake nails made my hands look. But I was so rough on them, they didn't last long. I couldn't dig in the dirt with those nails. I couldn't plant my coriopsis. I broke several of those fake nails that day. But that coriopsis was planted and it bloomed right beside my asters along the driveway of the first home we owned. That's the day I decided that I loved digging in the dirt more than I loved my fake nails. Gardening became a passion. The smell of those asters every fall was priceless. I remember that day well.

I remember my hands being there through the years of babies. These hands woke up many nights to hold babies. To change babies. To mix formula for babies. To hold a pillow over my head while the colicky babies screamed for hours. To wipe tears from the babies cheeks. Oh those beautiful baby cheeks. These hands gently tickled the the ten year olds belly through the night, as he suffered from the pain of a broken arm that hadn't yet been casted. These hands placed the candles just so on the multiple birthday cakes through the past eleven years. I remember those days well.
I remember my hands being there suffering through endless hours of lecture notes in college. That calloused bump grew bigger. I remember the days of waitressing through college. The day I waited on Dale Earnhardt and not knowing who he was until I swiped his credit card. I was just getting myself through college, paying a mortgage, and feeding my babies...frankly, he was just another joe-shmoe. But I remember that day well.

I remember my hands trembling everyday for about two years from the anti-depressants I took. I couldn't stop the trembling. I hated the trembling, but I did what I had to do. I fought my demons with those bare, trembling hands. I remember those days well.

I remember my hands cradling the faces of my very few lovers. Looking into their eyes and questioning fate. I knew my heart would be broken but still I pursued. Abandon all for love. I remember those days well.

I remember my hands in Los Angeles. Those hands toted luggage around the airports as I followed at the heels of Andi. Those hands grasped Trish as I met her for the first time. Those hands waved to Robbie as she entered the apartment. Those hands accepted the drinks made by Gigis fabulous hands. Those hands held on to the oh shit handles (or lack there of) as Robbie navigated the LA traffic. Those hands embraced Cheryl as she told me everything would be okay. Trish told me those hands were soft. Softest hands she had ever felt. Darin said the same thing this New Years Eve. Softest hands he'd ever felt. I remember those days well.

These hands have wiped away my tears. These hands have embraced strangers only to make new friends. These hands have waved good-bye too many times. Today these hands wear no rings, no fake nails. These hands are always with me doing whatever needs done as they are tied behind my back. Only wearing the memories of the past years in form of scars, calloused bumps and indentures. These hands I hold dear. They have been with me every single day, just doing what needed done, as they are tied behind my back. (heh heh heh, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat.)

What am I waiting for?

Hurry up and wait.
I'm waiting for that phone to ring any second and for either the STBX or the realtor to tell me we have an offer on the house. It's been 3-4 months now with several showings but no offers. I'm just waiting and when it does...wooo hooo, I've got major things to do. Then I'll be able to really start looking for my new home. I've been combing the market since September. I've looked and been interested in a few homes...but I can't do a thing until mine is sold. Equity money from old home = down payment for new home.

What I have been doing is gathering the home furnishings while I wait. Just need a few more things and I'll be all set. Just gathering and waiting. Waiting on that phone call.

I'm also waiting for my settlement papers. The STBX's attorney is supposedly drawing them up. I'm hoping to have them in a couple of weeks to review and revise. The STBX filed late November. Our 60 day wait period will be over in 13 days. Any day now I should be getting a call from my attorney telling me to stop by so we can review the papers.

Just waiting. While I'm waiting, I'm getting those "final touches" addressed and taken care of.

I hear the ho-hum drum of life marching on. Just marching to the beat and trying to be present. I just want those damn dominoes to fall already.

Tagged by Kris

5 things that irritate me or drive me batty or make me crazy something like that...

1. Cell phone junkies. I hate when I'm with someone and all they can do is have conversations on their cell phones. Call after call. Hello, I'm sitting right here in front of you, dying for your undivided attention, please talk to me... Ignore your phone, that's what voicemail is for. DK was guilty of this. We would be having dinner and he would be talking on his phone non-stop. On the way to the restaurant. At the restaurant. On the way home. At home. I hated that.

2. Wrinkled clothes. HATE IT. It's sloppy, it says to me "I don't give a rats ass what I look like."

3. Public Belchers. I hate when I'm having dinner out and the old gross man behind me burps out loud. Ewww. Now I have his food aura floating around my own food. Gross. I understand belching is a perfectly natural body function...but stifle it will ya, don't make a production out of it. Quiet it, keep it to yourself.

4. I hate when my brother or his girlfriend or both of them bring their children over to my parents house and then they proceed to lay down and take a nap while their children are running around like baboons. I think that's just rude. They are your children, you take care of them.

5. Space invaders. I'm a type of person where I need my space. I require at least two feet around me. Very few people are allotted into my personal space. It's just natural for some people to be in my space and very un-natural for others. There is no rhyme or reason to it. I love touch, but only from certain people. It's not natural for my mother to be in my space. I don't like it. I love my mother, but I don't like her in my space. It is natural for my children to be in my space. Maybe it's a chemical, aura thing...I'm not sure. I'm just very picky about my space.

I'm tagging:

Andi, Sneakz, Sharky (Where art thou?), Spyder and Stephanie.

Process

Pace yourself. I had a very "emotional" weekend. No worries, I'm good. Several things just kind of flowed at once. I hate when that happens. They just all kind of sneak up on you and kick you when you're down. It's a good thing I process and move on fast.

1) My "NYE date", Darin, called me back. Amazingly enough my psychobabble didn't scare him off. After agreeing to a dinner date Sunday, we talked on the phone for about an hour and within that hour it came to light that he is "not so sure" that his last "relationship" is completely over. Ohhhhh. hmmmm. So I made a judgment call on my behalf: I'm out. I don't want to spend my energy and get my hopes up on something and then find out him and her are back together. Nope, don't need that now do I. We agreed that if down the road he finds out that the said relationship is indeed very much over, at that point he can call me. I may or may not be available at said point. Sure, I'm just a little disappointed because I already had a wee bit o time and hope invested. Oh well, no biggie, moving on. I still had a very awesome NYE and I really needed that. And...a big, huge pat on the back for myself for establishing that boundary and protecting myself.

2) I probably shouldn't even be talking about this. But, this blog is my blog. This is where it all comes out, honest, gut wrenching truth. And he knows this. My Morelli. My very married Morelli. He's not mine. Although, I know this and I've known this everyday for the past three years...it still hurts sometimes. It still confuses me sometimes. It just so happened to hurt and confuse me this weekend. Oh well, no biggie, moving on. I guess that's what I get for opening that beautiful door. My Morelli is one of my best friends and for that I'm grateful.

3) The STBX. The marriage (or lack there of), the home (or lack there of)...We set a move date. He trusts me enough that he will not be present during the move. I will indeed have my stuff out of the house by the end of the month. Great! That makes me happy. What hit me hard was the vision of all of my past 12 years loaded up into a U-haul and me walking out of our home for the last time. Grief. That was my whole life and I've turned the corner only to find...What? I have NO CLUE. At this point everything about my life is temporary and I don't have any idea how long it will remain this way. Just waiting for dominoes to fall (doing what I can) and just being very patient. I've been in this temporary zone for six months now and frankly, I'm sick of it. I don't miss the STBX, I miss the comfort zone. I know it'll just make me appreciate what's waiting for me.

Those three things in one weekend. I tried to dance it off (I went dancing Saturday), I tried to drink it off (I caught a buzz Saturday), I tried to laugh it off (fun times with friends), I tried to sleep it off, I even tried my fail safe... "The Night at The Roxbury." But it hit me yesterday and all I could do was lay around in my pj's and cry while I watched "Charmed." I hate doing that! I hate succumbing to the pressure, but I guess I had no choice.

It amazes me how a person can feel so very much alone in this big, huge world. That overwhelming feeling of loneliness just sneaks right up on you. I'm not afraid to be alone. I've walked around downtown Chicago all day by myself. No biggie. I've gone to the theater by myself and walked around the mall by myself. No biggie. I spent Christmas morning by myself. No biggie. I spent four hours walking around the bay of Baltimore by myself. No biggie. I spent an entire day in The Art Institute of Chicago by myself. No biggie. I've spent many weekends at home by myself, doing laundry and cleaning bathrooms. No biggie. I work in a room by myself for the majority of the week. No biggie. What amazes me is when I can be surrounded by my best friends and family, I can be out having fun, I can be laughing to my favorite movie...but there is still that overwhelming feeling of being so very much alone. That bastard just sneaks up on ya.

Today, I'm emotionally better, but I woke up with a very painful stiff neck.
I process fast. I'm good. All better. Focused. Moving on very patiently. Chanting the words, "I never walk alone."

STBX RANT !@#$$%

So I got a response finally to all the little "final touches" I needed to arrange with the STBX.

-I'll call you Sunday afternoon and you can come over
for a while and we can go through stuff and discuss
when you will be taking stuff.
-I cannot get insurance until 1) divorce is final or,
2) October.
-Don't know if I can afford cell phone right now. Will
have to look into. Heating this house is going to
break me. Not joking. Minimums on all these damn cards
have gone up as well.

Um...okay.
First, WE don't need to "go thru stuff." HE needs to get whatever HE wants to keep out of MY way. I don't need to go over there for that. We can discuss things on the phone or thru email. I have a feeling he's wanting to barter. If he's wanting to change the original plan, then he can go thru my lawyer for that. I've been flexible enough. I'm not bending anymore.

Second, CRAP! on the whole health insurance thing. He's telling me that he can't get insurance AFTER I already dropped him. He should have told me this BEFORE the first of the year. This can come back on me if he should get sick now or something. Facts are that he was eligible thru his employer last July, but his employer didn't get the paperwork to him in time. So then he had to wait until the first of the year... and now they are telling him NO. Something doesn't add up here and it's totally not my problem.

Third, cell phone. Fine, so he can't afford his own account. How is that my problem? I've paid for his cell phone use since July. That's more than fair. Give me the phone and I'll cancel the shared plan. No cell for him.

Fourth, heating is "breaking" everyone right now. Turn the thermostat down and wear a sweater. Fortunetly for him the weather has been warmer than average this winter. I'm sure my parents are paying extra for the 3 additional people living in their house, but have they said one word to me about it, NO.

Lastly, HIS share of the total debt- the credit cards. Guess he should've thought twice about buying the laptop, the brand new snowblower, re-vamping the lawnmower engine, the brand new garden tiller etc...etc... There is a thing called Ebay. Start selling some of that shit.

I'm angry. It's Saturday morning and I'm angry. This is where I stand my ground. This is what he does: Any type of stress in his life somehow becomes MY fault or MY problem. That's how it's always been...that's why I always felt small, unequal, miserable, depressed. Let's go back to last February...I'M NOT THE ONE WHO ASKED FOR ANY OF THIS!! HE'S the one who changed his mind and wanted something different. I just kindly stepped out of his way. I DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS. IT'S NOT MY FAULT AND IT'S NOT MY PROBLEM. WE ARE SEPARATE. TELL TARA ABOUT YOUR PROBLEMS. YOU NO LONGER CONTROL THIS GIRL. (writing is always good therapy)

I'm not so sure that's sugar...

I think I've been putting crack in my coffee every morning. Hmmm.

Sometimes I can't help but laugh at myself. I'm a very funny person. At least I think so.

I just called Darin and left a message where I seemed to psychobabble about some kind of "Dating for Dummies handbook" that I hadn't received yet. Seriously, if this guy actually calls back and accepts my invitation to dinner then I know there must be something mentally wrong with him. Ahhh.

I just received an inner-office email from a lady up in accounting. The email simply stated the names of the five people in the business office today. They must be getting swamped with phone calls or something. Anyways, I responded to her email by stating that "it sounds like a good time and I'd be right up with the rum." Well, that was probably highly inappropriate for office banter, but it was kinda funny.

I mean seriously dude, give me a break. I live in the Mid-west, with my parents, I work in a padded room with a straight jacket all week, my son is convinced that I'm not his original mother because I make him eat Teryaki chicken, I'm totally in love with a married man who most likely will always be a married, the highlight of my week so far is that I got a really good deal at the Goodwill store last night, oh and that HOT red-head who virtually smacked my ass, I talk to horses when I'm drunk and my best friend is an ugly six pound Boston Terrier who thinks she's a cat. I have to laugh to keep from going insane. Or...do I laugh because I've already crossed the threshold of insanity? Hmmm.

Motivation

I've very motivated so far this year. Granted it's only the 6th day of the New Year, but I'm organized and I identify what needs done and I'm preparing to do it. All of it.
The 60 day wait period for our divorce is in 2 weeks. The STBX filed late November, so all I have to do now is wait for the papers to come to me for my review. Still waiting...
In the meantime I've compiled a list of things that need to be taken care of before the divorce is final. A lot of these things involve the STBX's cooperation. The final touches, if you will.
1) I need to move my furniture and the rest of my stuff out of the house. The house is on the market and I had left all furniture there in the meantime so #1 the house would show better and #2 I had no room to store it otherwise. Now that "Daddys friend" is most likely staying overnights...I really need to get my stuff out. And honestly, let's do this while the weather is cooperating. I've arranged a storage unit, arranged a group of friends to help me move it and now I'm just trying to get the STBX to cooperate with a moving date. I'm not asking for his help in moving but there are things he needs to do to prepare for it, so I'm giving him a week or two to do so. He needs to make sure his stuff is out the file cabinet. Needs to get any food out of the chest freezer, etc...etc... He's not responding. I will not sign any papers until my stuff is totally out of that house.
2) I need to change the benificiary on my retirement funds. Again, the STBX has to sign off on it. It has to be notarized. I've made arrangements for it to be notarized and have asked for the STBX's cooperation once more. All he has to do is swing by my office one day after work. 3 minutes. That's it. Again, he's not responding and again, I will not sign any papers until he signs off.
3) I already dropped him from my health insurance, which is saving me $144 a month. Awesome. I gave him the heads up months ago and reminded him that he was eligible with his own employer. My lawyer sent his lawyer a notice. Never received the final word that he took care of it, but I dropped him and it's no longer my problem.
4) We are on the same shared minute cell phone plan. The plan is in my name and I pay the bill. I could've just dropped him at any time. But I didn't. I told him that he needs to start arranging for his own account. I've let him know that to make it easy all we have to do is call the company and transfer his service and # to his own account. I'll give him a few more days on this one.

And there's just a few more final touches that we need to do to complete this transaction. I'm just not understanding why he's not responding. We've been separated for five months. This has been coming for five months. He was the one that had to go file for divorce so that we could "move on." I'm just trying to go along with the plan. Hopefully he'll pull thru on this with a response in the next couple of days while I'm still motivated. Otherwise, I guess we'll do all this on "my time" when "I'm ready." I'm not bitching here, I'm just not understanding. Then again, I guess that's why we're in this "transaction" in the first place.

This is what I'm focusing on in January. February has been boycotted BTW, will not even take place...and I don't want to spend my spring finallizing these little things. Spring will hopefully be about selling the old house and finding the new house. Summer will hopefully be spent celebrating with key lime pie. And winter will hopefully find us settled into a new home celebrating the holidays and the successful last year. That's my one year plan. It's vague, it's general, but for a person that goes with the flow...it's good enough.

Let's refer to the handbook, shall we?

So is there like a handbook on dating? If so, can someone please mail it to me? I am so sick of everyone telling me what I should or shouldn't do when it comes to dating. I know it's out of love and that people are only giving their opinion because they care. I know this, but please shuddup. Or, maybe I should just stop asking peoples opinions and stop asking for advice. I guess I just ask because I want to reflect/ bounce ideas around. To keep myself in check. But, there are always so many conflicting views and opinions that make my head spin and then it just becomes a big mess that I don't want to deal with.

My dilemma is this:
I had my date with Darin on NYE, we hit it off. We had fun. He's a nice guy. The night ended. A few days later Darin calls me. Says how he had a great time. Thinks I'm a nice girl (boy, I have him snowed huh.) Says how we're both coming fresh out of relationships, that he realizes this, hence no pressure, no rush. But would like to go out again, sometime. Perfect. Sounds like we're both on the same path.
Given all of that, I thought I might call him and see if he'd like to go to dinner Sunday evening...or coffee or whatever, just opening the door for more conversation with someone I had fun with. No big deal.

Or is it? Is this weekend too soon? Is there like a 30 day minimum or something I don't know about. One friend thinks that I need to be alone for like six years and be an empowered woman and forget about any relationships with the opposite sex. That I need to be totally over my marriage before I can move on. And one friend says, hell ya, call the guy. It's dinner not a marriage proposal. I can be an empowered woman and have dinner at the same time. But is "having dinner" then opening the door to "establishing" a relationship? If I keep having casual dinners with this guy (or anyone) then obviously a bond might possibly form and there I will be in a "relationship" wondering how I got there. But, I am no longer boundary-less and my goals are to have relationships with those boundaries in place. I see my past mistakes very clearly and I am not willing to make the same mistakes again. Noted.

I feel that I have a good grasp on reality. I process things faster than most people. I don't sulk. I'm motivated. I move on. I feel that I can establish these boundaries that I'm proposing lately. I don't feel like I am a total chaotic wreck that "needs to get over" anything. I'm over it. I'm out of it. I'm good. I mean seriously...the point of getting out of a bad marriage was so we could "move on." Like all other people in this world I want to eventually be with someone who loves me. I want to eventually share my life with someone. But I also know that it can't be just anyone and that it won't happen overnight. I don't feel as if I "failed" at my marriage. We succeeded for 11 years, there just came a stopping point. And seriously, good for us that we saw the stopping point and didn't force it to succeed any longer that it was meant to. Sure, damage was done. But I feel like I'm complete. I don't feel like I'm "missing" my "other half". Sure there are things in my life that I'm trying to pull together...but so is everyone else. I obviously know what I don't want.

I'm just going with the flow but at the same time, I'm not going to sit around for six years and reflect on where I was versus where I should be and whether I'm "healed" or not. For real. Live a little. I think it's okay if I have dinner with this guy a week after I met him. It's not like having dinner is making a statement of "I want to be with you for the rest of my life." What it boils down to is this: Darin and I had fun. If this had been one of my girlfriends that I had fun with, I'd be calling her in a week to have some more fun again. So what if I'm opening the door to possibly establishing a relationship eventually? Fact is, I don't even know him. And honestly, I can't set boundaries if I never even open the door. It may turn out that after I get to know him a little more, I may not even be interested. But if I don't call him or I don't ever call anyone or ever pursue and establish friendships then I will end up a very lonely person.

There's my philosophy and I'm sticking to it. I'm calling and just going to state that I don't know the rules on this sort of thing, but if he's available Sunday evening how about we have dinner and conversation. (and then maybe get married in Vegas the following weekend. Kidding.)

Seriously now...comments and opinions are welcome here.