Halloween

I'm having one of those days where I've just turned into a bitch. I'm pissy and I don't exactly know why. Sure it's taken some internet research, 4 phone calls and a couple text messages to get the plan together to take all children Trick or Treating.
And it's taken just as much to plan my mothers birthday.
And yah, there is also a company picnic, and two other birthday parties to plan around.

I mean seriously, do we all need to plan everything within the same week? It makes it really difficult on blended families.

So, yah, I'm completely frustrated at how difficult things always seem to be. This person wants to have them at this time. But we need to be there at this time. Then she'll pick them up at this time and bring them back at this time, but wait... what about this...

But listen to this... in a fairly odd, sorta "Object of my Affection" sort of way, I think we've decided to take 5 kids and 4 adults Trick or Treating next week. Me, my boyfriend SLJ, my X, my x's girlfriend, SLJ's kid, mine and the x's kids, and the girlfriends 2 kids. Awkward, but honestly... it intrigues me. Everyone involved are to be involved with the lives of my children, so it's not beyond me to play along either is it? One big happy family wouldn't ya say.

I'll bring the coffee and epicac.

So my frustrations will be taken out on the ground tonight as I plant 6 mums in the landscaping. Sure, it's snowing and the ground is probably not so forgiving. But I need to play in the dirt damnit.

Teaching Feminism

"feminism ain't about equality, it's about reprieve"
- Reprieve, Ani DiFranco

How do you teach two little boys about feminism?
I wonder about this often.
I think to teach by example is usually the most effective way.

A couple of things said here and there confirm our progress and our digress.
I'd like to give it.
Like a gift wrapped in skulls and cross bones.
Black satin paper with pretty pink bows.
Something they would think as "sweet."

He stands tall, the little man that he is.
He defends my rights more than the man who created him.
He questions others comments, like "What is that supposed to mean?"
And leaves no room for pondering, because he knows what's right without question.
"She hasn't asked him to marry her yet" He simply says to the other.
It's not how things are done, but yes, he knows this mother.

I hope this stays with him.
For the years of husbanding he will see.
I'm sure it won't be easy for him,
because it's not even easy for me.

If they could only see what I see.
The strength we hold within.
Not muscle bound freaks.
Not money.
Not authority.
Just a tiny little voice that whispers "free me."

How do you teach two little boys about feminism?
I hope it's just a given.
I love them like no other
and with that love they learn respect for women. - Tiny Dancer

Ani in Chicago among friends

I don't even know where to begin...staying true to my style, here comes a total stream of consciousness in no certain order.

I signed divorce papers Thursday evening. It felt like a small insignificant thing. I had to keep reminding myself that I had an appt. that evening. I couldn't comprehend how that somehow it felt so minute when I had been waiting for so very long for that moment to happen.
So, I signed and it'll be all done in a couple of weeks after the judge signs off. I jumped in my car afterwards, called the X and told him I had signed, hung up, drove off and then I started bawling. Huh? Where did that even come from? I had five minutes of pent up emotion and confusion and anger that just seemed to be released. Ah, deep breaths...it's done. It's been a long twelve years and poof, it's all over. Bittersweet moment.
My attorney is such a great guy. He felt my energy and then asked me how I felt, saw the confusion in my face and said "But you're happy right?" And I said, "Yes, I am. I am very happy. Moving on."
So, I guess if there is one thing I could say in finality to the X I should probably just say it here: "It's been real. See ya around."

Friday was Ani in concert at the Chicago Theatre. Totally scored second row seating way down in the orchestra pit. We were literally 15 feet away from herself. It was a great show. Inspiring, uplifting, replenishing, releasing. The perfect encore to a tremedous roller coaster ride. The Chicago Theatre is gorgeous! Lars and I found our way to our SECOND ROW seats turned around to see the crowd behind us and I was like "Whoa... Lets take a moment here to take this all in." http://www.thechicagotheatre.com/about_history.htm - go see.

Two little girls
One hella ride
Plenty of broken hearts
Too much strength to say die
Understanding is the key
Open minds and open hearts
Thanks for being me
While I step back and take a sigh

After the show we took the redline. My very first time on the Subway! And I found it kinda crazy that in the matter of just a few hours, I had been driving my car through the fall countryside behind an amish buggy to riding the subway in the city. Kinda cool in an elemental sort of way.

We hoofed a few blocks and found our way to a "Punk" bar where our weekend host was hanging out. Luckily I'm not one to foster culture shock, I keep a pretty open mind and I don't really care if I blend so much or not. I found it all kind of interesting in an educational awareness sort of way. My first experience w/ what I would call "Rockabilly."Everyone's pretty well dressed in black. Sort of Goth like. (closet Goth here!) Everyone holding a Pabst Blue Ribbon, which threw me off a second.
PBR, like right on.
Late 70's my dad was drinkin the PBR. Wasn't aware that anyone in my generation was making that their drink of choice. But we learn something new everyday. I guess my Jack n coke was breed from the bottle my dad kept in the cupboard and fed us for coughs as children. So I can see where the PBR comes into play.
A mix of music from a modern day punk band I've never heard of to The Police.
Interesting.
Knuces and skulls hanging from the ceiling along with old school motorcycles and mudflap silloettes. I couldn't make up my mind whether I was in a biker bar or whether I would see Marilyn Manson stroll in any second.
It was an intresting blend.
But then again, there I was in my jeans and tee just coming from Ani with my bellydancer friend, having the soundtrack to Wedding Singer and coveting the latest Killers release, living in a small berg with my Tesla loving boyfriend.
I'm left to assume no labels.

Throughout the weekend I was involved in some conversations about suspension. Yanno, hooks in your skin, suspending yourself from the ceiling. I don't find it bizarre at all. I'm not like down with the practice, but I can understand why someone would be. As it was explained to me, in my mind I compared it to childbirth. Lots of pain that needs to be channeled for this great miraculous moment in time where it's just your being and your physical pain. I get it.

We strolled through the Lincoln park district. The apartments and condos reminded me of The Cosby Show.
Brownstones side by side behind tree lined streets.
Parallel parking is a must have skill.
Mediteranean crepes around the corner.
Mid East Hummos and grape leaves down the street.
Hookah shop on the next block next to the Italian shoe store.

One of my favorite moments was when we were sitting with friends on their apartment floor, dining on Greek food and just chit chatting... it came to my realization that I just might see myself differently than everyone else does. My friend Lars was talking about how when she first came to the Mid West from Hawaii, she was in search of some Hippie friends to hang out with. I looked at her and asked how on earth she found me because "I'm not a Hippie."
The room grew quiet and everyone looked away from me and up to the ceiling for a moment. I uncomfortably chuckled and then found out I am a Hippie sitting on the floor in this apartment in Lincoln Park district dipping pita into Hummos wearing my favorite linen shirt enjoying the smell of Nag Champra. Ohhhh...
Alrighty then. Hippie it is, if we must go with labels.

All good times, but I was homesick and ready to come home. About 45 minutes away from home and my SLJ, I freaked.
HUGE insecure moment. Absolutely scared shitless.
What if SLJ isn't happy to see me.
What if SLJ didn't miss me.
What if SLJ had a moment to himself and changed his mind while I was away.
I might be devastated.
Flashbacks of the X laying in the bed, twidling his thumbs telling me we need to talk.
Flashbacks of how he didn't touch me or look at me for two weeks upon my return.
Flashbacks of panic.
Painful, very painful flashbacks jumping up right there in my face.
I was downright scared to go home to SLJ.
I had a complete breakdown.
Panic, fear, anger, frustration, apprehension.
Trying to remind myself it's SLJ, it's not the X. SLJ loves me.
He really loves me.
And then I went into, well, if he doesn't love me and he has changed his mind, I can handle it. I've done it before. I survived. I can do this. Come what may.
And then anger struck. Damn the X for causing this trauma. Damn him. What right does he have.
And then Lars put it all into a different perspective - With SLJ, I have had moments of flashbacks when I expect him to react just like the X. But he never does. It's always different and then I have a confirmation and then I have healing. And there's no reason to think this "going home" will be different. She restored my faith which she's so very good at.

But I drove home (calling Andi on my way for comfort.) And my SLJ was waiting for me and my God, he loves me like no other. He loves me and no he didn't change his mind about me. And oh how much I love this man and our home and this little berg town in the Mid West and oh how I love the way he touches me and curls up next to me and we talk about how we both had to deal with our insecure feelings while I was away and how we both had to keep reminding ourselves that the other was not our X.
I let some tears fall as I realize this is very good.
This is strong.
We are very, very blessed.
I have a very amazing man.

Quite a weekend it was.
As I take a moment to myself and a smile on my face.
This is good.
This is okay.

Quilting

Someday I'll get some pictures of this area around me. My drive to & from work lately has just been awesome. The amish countryside with changing leaves, pumpkin fields, horses, amish buggies... words just can't explain how gorgeous it is.

We've started remodeling the kitchen. It's a slow process, the fridge has been temporarily relocated two rooms away. The countertops have been taken off, the carpeting pulled out. I think we've got most of the drywall dust cleaned out. Some of the painting has been applied. We picked out a gorgeous burnt orange/rustic red color. I call it "Andi at Biaggis." Just reminds me of a my red-headed friend sitting in a booth at an Italian restaurant in fall. (You would love this color girl!)

The whole remodel started with the idea of putting my brown/black scroll design Mikasa dishes on the walls. But I think I've changed my mind. Now I'm between the amber field print I spotted at the store over the weekend or calligraphy script on the walls. I might be able to tie in the Mikasa and the script or the print and the script, we'll see. It'll come to me.

So in the middle of a remodel, I'm taking off for the weekend. Girls weekend in Chicago. Going to see Ani DiFranco in concert at the Chicago Theatre and have crepes and coffee with friends of friends. I don't actually know the people we'll be staying with, total strangers, but as we all know, sometimes strangers turn into family. And sometimes yes, they turn into stalkers... but Hey! What've I got to lose.

It was kind of interesting, last night I had a meltdown over leaving my man for the weekend. Something he said jokingly triggered an insecurity of mine. And my "trauma" all came flooding back. The last night I went on a "Girls retreat" I came back to a man that didn't want me anymore and ultimately our marriage ended.
So, there's that.
I had a minor meltdown on SLJ and made him make some promises that just because I'm going on a girls retreat does not give him the oppurtunity to change his mind about me. This is not grounds for leaving me high and dry. This is just a girl out with her friends for two days away. I'm pretty pathetic aren't I. But yanno, at least I identified the trigger and processed the meltdown fairly well. That's growth.

Lots of visits to the doctors lately;
I had my mom in to see a cardiologist. No results back from that process yet.

I've been in for f/u with my Gyn, no results from that process yet. Hoping for the best, preparing for the worst.

I did some X-Rays on Thing 1 a couple weeks ago. Thought we might've had another broken appendage (seems like I'm in the right business). Turns out nothing was broken (Thank God cause I'm still paying for the broken arm last year).

I had SLJ's son at the doctor for chronic sinus infection.

Tonight Thing 2 getting a filling at the dentist. Luckily he has no clue what to expect and luckily he loves his dentist and can't wait to go.

The Things are doing well in their new schools. Received Mid Term reports and I'm very proud to admit my monkeys got all A's and just a couple B's. With all the changes they've had to adapt to lately, I'm very impressed and very proud. Exhausted, but proud.

Tomorrow evening I actually, for real this time, sign divorce papers. It's been a terribly long roller coaster type ride and it's finally seeking closure. No time better than fall I suppose. Lots of changes all around.

At moments like this, I'm forced to stop and review and process. Things seem good. Things feel good. Lots of stuff going on.

Reminds me of one of my favorite quotes : When life gives you scraps, make a quilt.

Colors

I was watching 60 minutes last night about the electroshock therapy they are doing directly on the brain as a treatment for depression.
I found this absolutely amazing.
I listened intently as the test subjects explained their experience.
Stated that they "were living in black and white" but didn't know it until suddenly they began to see the world around them in color. Colors everywhere. They weren't figuratively speaking either.
I related. I remembered the awesome brightness that I suddenly felt in Goda Yoga studio. All of a sudden I saw brightness. And that's when I realized I had been seeing everything in black and white.
Interesting.
And one subject mentioned how she was depressed about being depressed. Again I related. I always felt that it was an endless cycle.
I smiled to myself, knowing that I had successfully come out of a depression. That my depression was indeed real. And that I was not alone in my transformation process out of it.
It's been a year and a half since I took my last dose of anti-depressents. It feels really good to be so far away from that. But it also feels good to know that it was real.