With my hands tied behind my back

Where is redsneakz?

2007-07-25T16:34:00.001-04:00

I'm a Dedicated Slacker

2007-07-25T15:17:00.000-04:00

Seems like it's been forever since I've written.
Life takes place and sometimes all other things step aside.
Eb and flow.
I guess I'll spare you the where have I been, what have I done in the new year and just start from scratch. (Heh... "Scratch.")

I'm pretty discouraged w/ the 2008 election. I started doing my homework on the candidates and then decided that maybe I should wait until the parties decide and then continue w/ that homework after February.

I'm constantly amazed at how positively dim some people actually are. I hear something and think, are your really that stupid? Yes. And then I'm amazed at how they've continued to survive for the last 32 years. Although they haven't thrived, only survived.
And then I sort of sympathize and understand because for 32 years that person hasn't had to thrive.
Everything has been taken care of and they've never had to be responsible... so then I get it. They honestly, whole hearted believe they do not have to be held accountable.
Then they run into me and I say "I'm not okay w/ that and yes you need to step up." Sucks to meet me. Really. I hope you never have to cross my path. I have visions of stupid people getting a faux punch in the jaw and their head slacking back from the impact. Birds start flying around their noggin and they are like "der, huh?" And I stand there w/ a "shit- eaten grin."

Honey, everything I have I've worked for. No body (except my mother) ever gave me a break. I'd crawl through hell and back to make things right, so you should probably just toss in the towel now. Save yourself the agony.
I have the advantage of being smart too... there is that.

This writing has totally gone AWOL. 2008 election to "other mother"... I don't know how I do it.
I'm sure there is some psychological, unconscious reason for it.

Zits, dances and Green Day

2007-01-23T17:53:00.000-05:00

So my oldest son is growing up and there's nothing I can do about it.

He's going to the Valentines Dance at school... his first. It breaks my heart.

Just this month he started getting zits. Ug.

I find myself burning CD's from his MP3 player play list.

I'm saying things to him like "When I was your age..."

We've hit a turning point. I'm afraid there's no going back. It's going to take me a little bit of time to be okay with this.

Today, a fellow employee brought in her 2 wk old baby so we could get a peek at the perfection ... I made a comment about "before you know it they're going to middle school" and tears welled up in my eyes and I had to make a quick escape...

Here's to always having a broken heart...

Can't say no to karaoke

2007-01-18T16:21:00.000-05:00

It's unfortunate really, that after a few drinks and lowered inhibitions that I just can't say no to demolishing an otherwise great song.

I had been out dress shopping, was dog tired, nerves on end but still had to go to a retirement party. I'm thinking we'd be in and out within a half hour.

But the beer kept being filled to the rim. And the body kept swaying to the beat. And the mouth kept singing along with familiar lyrics.

And before I knew it, I was up on stage with a mic in my hand singing Welcome to The Jungle...

Good times.

Party Planner

2007-01-15T14:12:00.000-05:00

Anyone that knows me well, knows I love to plan a party. I get giddy even.
Well, planning my own up and coming wedding reception and let me just say, I'm having a ball!

SLJ wanted to know how it went from going to the court house and off on a honeymoon to, well, this: multiple books from the library about weddings... Wedding Magazines at $5.99 a pop... trying on dresses at the dreaded dress shops with the ungodly amounts of crazy (yes, I do mean crazy) brides to be and their entourage... bags and bags of copper marbles to put in glass vases... special paper for invitations... guest lists complete w/ addresses... floating candles... site visits... insurance... DJ's... catering... cakes and you get my point.

I'm loving it all! All of it. And that's how it went from courthouse documents to booking an opera house... it's only natural. I love to plan a party and I have a damn good excuse this time, so why the hell not.

The first dress shop I walked into (on a Saturday morning) I was a bit overwhelmed. I actually had to register for changing room. Um... why? And so I browsed around the store during the 45 minute wait for a changing room and I heard things like this one bride to be lining up her bridesmaids and saying "No one is allowed to be tanner than I am. Okay. Everyone got it." I was seriously out of my realm here. I had hopped in my car that morning and drove myself to shallow town. I said a quick prayer for the groom and went on my merry way.

Anyone who knows me well, also knows that I like to rebel. Traditional is not my type. Colors... lets go w/ black and creme. No flower girl. Fish net stockings under my dress. Drunken karaoke. And there's more where that came from.

I'm not out to offend anyone... it's just that this is MY party and MY pocketbook.

Life lately

2007-01-10T15:23:00.000-05:00

Eb and flow... this would be the "flow" season.

I haven't done much in the way of writing. Lots of reasons why, but mainly priorities. I know that it'll come back around when it's supposed to.

Not that there isn't much going on, because there's a slew of activity lately. Lots of revelations just not much time to share them in form of journaling.

I had a moment to pop in and catch up on my reading and I'm just sitting here realizing how much I miss my fellow bloggers. There was a day when I completely depended on you to get me out of bed in the mornings and I am forever greatful. Strange that I found comfort in strangers.

I'm getting married in a few months. Working on my invitations and I sat there making my guest list wanting to write "Chuck" "James" "Kris" "Amy" ... I chuckled to myself because I know that you all get it.

Things are good here. Dawn and new days. Lots of love. Lots of laughter. Lots of just good stuff. When I get a chance I'll journal a few things that have seemed to amaze and enlighten me lately, but for now I'll leave you with gratitude.

Goodbye to another year

2007-01-03T14:33:00.000-05:00

Another year gone by.
They say that time flies when you're having fun. Is that what we were having? Fun? Hmmm.
Around this time, I like to pull out my yearly planner and look back over the last year. Maybe there were things I had totally forgotten about. Maybe there were some really brilliant moments that I want to reflect on.
So here goes...
January, The boys and I were living with my parents still awaiting my divorce. I found myself packing up the rest of "my things" and moving all of "my stuff" completely out of the "marital house." I shoved it all in a 10x10 storage unit somehow. 28 years of things shoved into a 10x10 space. Later I would find that the lock on the storage unit had been broke and half of my stuff had been taken. It wasn't an easy feeling. I lost some very precious things.

Another emptiness.
Lots more questions.
A bit more heartache.

But now as I look back on it, I have a deep understanding of what's important to me. I now know that I can overcome loss. I know that what I have now can't be shoved into a 10x10 space. I have something that can never be taken from me.
Dignity.
Self-Respect.
Unconditional love of self.
January is when I took off and headed out on a roadtrip. I had a nice sized Christmas bonus from work and a weekend without my kids and I needed to see just a smidgen of sun through the clouds. I landed myself at a casino resort in Southern Indiana. A very plush room, room service and a spa and time and space to sort a few things out. It's difficult to explain what truly came from that roadtrip.
A little more bravado.
A smidgen more self-respect.
And one tiny little prayer...answered.
Oh and a great spa facial.

February. Just a few weeks after my roadtrip I met Shawn. I thought February was going to be THEE DREADED MONTH. I had planned on boycotting Valentines Day. I had my reasons and they were good. But Shawn had different plans. February held a fanastic Valentines Day, a new relationship, Hope and my 29th birthday party. Not bad for THEE DREADED MONTH.

March and April turned into some brand new territory. I came face to face with cancer. It was the first time that the thought of dying required serious thought from me. My very first thought was that I wasn't ready to leave my boys. They were still very young and I still had so much to teach them. I just wasn't ready to die.
A smidgen more bravado.
Another hard earned lesson in self-respect.
Forgiving myself.
And letting go of what wasn't important and grasping on tight to what was.
Cancer likes to tap me on the shoulder, but I'm still shrugging it off and telling it not today.

May, led us to the end of another school year. A sigh of relief that summer was finally here. The boys and I moved to Ohio with Shawn. A new home, which meant a whole new mess of things. New doctors, new bank, new babysitter, new hairdresser etc... etc... A fresh new start and a very warm bed. I am reminded of lazy Sunday mornings on the front porch and weekend trips to the Lake. The kids aching to go to the sandbar. Blending my things (or what was left of them) with Shawns things and making our home together.

June, July and August seem a blur. Lots of adjusting. Settling in. More sighs of relief. Letting go and letting in. Some anxiety. Suddendly each one of us found ourselves with a whole new family. The "marital house" finally sold and I took delivery of a new vehicle and said goodbye to a headache on four wheels. The boys started their new school. Sending Isaac off to middle school was like sending him off to kindergarten all over again.

September and October another blur. I remember pumpkin fields, golden wheat fields and amish buggies. The boys falling right into their new schools, no problems. Ani concert with Layli in Chicago. SECOND ROW SEATS. And a brand new education in suspension. My divorce was final. Finally. A bad bout with bronchitis followed by the stomach flu. Yah, I don't remember much of those few weeks but I chalk it up to a much needed physical cleansing. I had some bad stuff locked inside that really needed to be released. I think somewhere in this time frame Eric and I actually became friendly again. Not friends really, just not enemies. I don't know who or how it changed. But it did and it's much easier now.
A pinch more bravado.
Another letting go and letting in.
And much, much more patience.

November and December were filled with Holidays with new friends and family. And our engagement. The man of my dreams asked me to marry him and I jumped at the chance!

It was a long and difficult year. But oh so beautiful.

My year started out with loss and look how it's ended.

2006 was a year for standing my ground, forgiving myself, taking pride in myself and being very thankful for all that I have. I have this peace now that everything is going to work out. That maybe I don't have to work so hard at making things the way I want them to be. I just know that they will be, exactly how they're supposed to be. And I know that it will all be beautiful.

My only resolution for 2006 was to make boundaries and stick to those boundaries. It's a work in progress, but I'm doing better. I can say no without feeling guilty. I haven't been walked on much so thats good.

My resolution for 2007 are still being drawn up. I'm thinking about just letting it all come to me and just being open for whatever it brings.

hahum...I have an announcement to make

2006-11-29T16:38:00.000-05:00

It always seems that the minute I say I have nothing to say...words just float onto the page.

Today, I have something to say and I want it to be perfect, but I know there is no plan, only heartfelt flow.

Today, my something to say is inspired from Gigi's entry "Aloha Sweet Ruth." Thank you Gigi for sharing your heart.

It was February when I saw the picture. My heart still heavy with just a hint of a scar, but my spirit was light and laughing. In the picture there stood this beautiful man, strong, lean and confident. My heart tweaked a little and I let a little "ohah" sneak out of my lips. My silent mind spoke, "Now this is a handsome boy."

The picture led to email and email to telephone conversations about who we were and our interests and such. It didn't take long until email and telephone led to our first date.

I was to meet him at a local Italian restaurant after work one night. We arrived at the same time. Stepped out of our cars and met each other. That was our first step together.While waiting for our table he said to me, "Your pictures don't do you justice." I could tell he meant it, he was smitten and I blushed still not knowing how to receive compliments. We ordered red wine with our dinner. He let me pick the bottle. He had remembered I liked reds from a phone conversation. It had been forever and a day since I had shared a glass of wine with a man.

Fortunetly for us, the wine went straight to my head and I babbled and blah blahhed throughout the entire dinner. His eyes were intense and they never left my face. I had his full undivided attention. I was astonished at how not even the two younger blondes at the other table caught his eyes. He had a gorgeous smile. I wanted to reach across the table and touch my fingers to his lips.

Our food and wine came and went. We felt the end of our first date drawing near, but neither one of us was ready to retreat just yet. We needed more.

We decided to drive across town to an outdoor mall. In the middle of February. In the Midwest at Ten o'clock at night. We walked the sidewalks near each other, but not familiar enough to touch. Our hands shoved in our pockets for warmth. Only one store was open. The bookstore. We searched the art history books for my favorite Picasso painting. He found it first.

Beauty, confidence, intensity, attention to details and now diligence.

When there was barely enough warmth or entertainment for us to keep our first meeting going, we decided to pack it up and call it a night. He drove me to my car and we waited for my car heater to spread it's warmth. He stumbled over his words and asked if I would be interested in going on another date with him. Oh yes. Very interested.

He didn't try to kiss me. I left his car and smiled back at him as I climbed in mine. And that's the moment it hit me. This man with those intense eyes and beautiful mouth was going to be my husband. I just knew it. He was different from the rest. A gentlemen? I didn't think they bred those anymore.

Later, his sister would tell me that the morning after our first date he just quietly told his family that he had met the most beautiful woman. "She is so pretty." he'd said.

Our second date was dinner and a hockey game accompanied by my children. I admit, it was a test. Two kids shoved into the picture so soon. I was letting him know it was a package deal. I don't come alone. Again, the three of us had his undivided attention. He didn't even falter. He sat next to me at dinner. I soaked up his scent and he smelled so good. He reached over to hold my hand and sparks literally flew. It took me a second to regain composure. I was shocked from my response to a simple touch of hand.

Our third date was Valentines Day. A monumentous occasion for me, but not for the symbol of love it bears. He had sent me a bouquet to work that day. A tear escaped from me. This particular Valentines Day would change my life.

He met me after work for a movie and late dinner. This day marked our first kiss. I remember every second of it and how we melted into each other and how we smiled. I still smile when I recall this particular moment.

Our relationship evolved to May and we moved in together. Me, my kids, my dog and my 12 brand new towels. There are so many particular moments between then and now where I look up to see this beautiful man and every single time he takes my breath away. He's really mine, I ask. I must have done something really good to deserve this. Something really good.

So many moments of laughter, fear, joy, anxiety, tears and unconditional love. Our relationship keeps evolving and I'm still amazed at how uncomplicated it all is. It's just so easy to love this man and be loved by this man.

He asked me to marry him. He placed a beautiful ring on my finger. He tells me I'm beautiful and somehow I believe him. It's all so surreal. This story of ours. Like those stories we read in books.

I remember hoping for a day when I would feel joy again. Lately it's coming in bushels and waves. So simple and unconditional.

Tis the season, yanno, and all...

2006-11-21T10:15:00.000-05:00

I'm finding myself closing in on the end of yet another year.
Time for reflections in the water.
And this time I see the true form of self smiling back.

Bridges have been crossed.
The flag of insecurity burned.
Stones thrown at glass houses.
The water has pushed past the rocks.
The abyss is just a dot in the far off distance and I am going the opposite direction.
I've danced naked in a sea of familiar faces.
I've sang my anthem loud.
Janis, Alanis, Ani, Macy, Tori and even a little Beck.
"Fuck you motherfucker..."
Bitterness is just a somewhat old familiar taste that I've washed down with my morning coffee.

And here I sit in the middle of this empty field.
Frost clinging to the leftovers.
The broken stalks of corn.
My nipples hard from the chill.
A big wide smile on my face.
Because perserverance is my middle name.
Unconditional love conquered the beast.
And I am free.

I've lost a lover, but I am grateful for unconditional love and men who love empowered women.
I've lost a family. I am grateful for acceptance.
I have lost a big black dog. I am grateful for loyalty.
I have lost my dream home. I am grateful for the understanding that "home" is in the heart.
I have lost my own childhood memorabilia and my childrens baby books. I am grateful for my past, memories I will never forget.
I have endured grief, an empty chest and an ice pick in my kidneys. I am grateful for love overflowing.
I've been called insane by the insane. I am grateful for faith and trust in myself.
I've hyperventilated. I am grateful for the abundance of breath I breathe today.
My children have hated me. I am grateful for their endless hugs and kisses.
I have cried myself to sleep often. I am very grateful for touch.
I have stared cancer in the face. It mocked me and called me a whore. I am grateful for my health.
I've felt very much alone. I am grateful for true friends. "Whatever I need, whenever I need it."
I have been on Prozac and know the depths of depression. I am grateful for strength and voice.
And this one is funny...I have been called a prude. I...I...just don't have a comeback for that one. Just a smile.
I have been called fat. I am grateful for fire.
I have ripped myself apart in the mirror. I am grateful for beauty.
After years and years of condemning the idea of suicide and calling it selfish...I have considered it. I was this close to slamming my car into a telephone pole. I am grateful for my future.
I have driven a car whose transmission could've fallen out at any minute. Whose turn signal never worked. I am grateful for guardian angels and my very first new car.
I've spent holidays alone. Nothing to do, nowhere to go. I am grateful for family and the hussle and bussle.
I have wanted so desperately to stay in bed all day with the covers over my face. I am grateful for the morning light.

This Thanksgiving, I have a lot to be thankful for and it just couldn't go without saying.

O-HI-O

2006-11-20T13:35:00.000-05:00

I've been swimming in the sea of scarlet and grey lately.
I've never been into football until I moved to Ohio. Sure I watched a little NFL here and there.

Saturday afternoons turned into a dedication to Ohio State University.
Shortly after I moved to Ohio I noticed bits and pieces of football everywhere.
The town I live in is a "Football Town."
Every Friday the kids wore their school colors and the menu consisted of "Touchdown Tacos."
There were signs in the yards of the proud parents.
Decals on car windows.
Even the corner ice cream shop was named after the mascot.
It didn't take me long to see that football was pretty big here.

I watched the games with Shawn.
I wore my OSU T-shirt on Saturdays to show my support.
I got even more and more excited as they kept winning, game after game.

I was told about the "Big Game." Ohio State vs. Michigan.
I was told it was the biggest game of the season and that it was a big rivalry.
I had no idea.

As the season progressed, OSU kept winning and I kept getting more and more excited to see "The Big Game."
As the game drew near, I started texting and emailing one of my college girlfriends (a Michigan fan) that OSU would kick their butt.
My screen saver became the OSU flag and song.

This was the season I would finally become a football fan.

The night before the game, we were having dinner out and as I looked around the room it was clear I was the only person not wearing scarlett and grey.
Saturday morning I decided to hit town to do a little shopping and as I meandered through the stores (this time in my own OSU T-shirt) I noticed how everyone else was wearing scarlett and grey.
Even the clerks donned their OSU apparrel at one of the department stores.
I sat in my car, waiting on the light and noticed that every single car that went by had a person wearing scarlett and grey in it.
Yup, football is that big in Ohio.
Big, and I am now one of them.
I decided not to fight the flow this time.
Just join in Carol, it makes your man happy.
If all I have to do to see that precious smile on his face is become an OSU fan...then I'll paint my bare chest red baby.

Our team didn't let us down either. It was a good, close game and "my guys" came out on top. Good job Bucks! From your newest fan.

Halloween

2006-10-23T16:55:00.000-04:00

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

2006-10-17T16:35:00.000-04:00

"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

2006-10-16T11:48:00.000-04:00

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

2006-10-11T10:48:00.000-04:00

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

2006-10-02T16:18:00.000-04:00

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.

"Like a nat on crack"

2006-09-25T16:36:00.000-04:00

Still processing this, but I went a little crazy in the kitchen this weekend. It started out with dinner rolls. A few weeks ago I attempted the STBX's secret family yeast dinner roll recipe I was afforded after 10 years of marriage. I hadn't yet made the dinner rolls mostly because of lifestyle chaos but also out of fear of failure. I still haven't mastered the secret sugar cookie recipe after a few attempts at that, so I was sure I wouldn't succeed on the yeast dinner roll recipe either. Anyways, the first attempt was a flop. Hockeypucks. But then I realized that part of the directions had been left out. Inadvertently I hope. After a thought and a small discussion with my own mother about the lack of directions, I figured it out. So, I attempted it a second time. And bingo. I have oh so yummy rolls. Now what to do with the apples...

It's pretty sickening for me to think it was more than just a whim to create in the kitchen. What if it was indeed a proof that I could succeed. What if it was a plea for success and praise. After all I spent several years hearing the words "Mom's or Grandmas are better." I spent several years trying to live up to the standard w/o success. Is that why I spent several hours in the kitchen on Saturday baking not only yeast dinner rolls, but blueberry muffins, apple crumb cake and a gorgeous apple pie? Or was it just because I had spotted a few new recipes and was dying to try them out? Why did I pack up a dish of samplings for SLJ's mother? Was it because we suddenly had all of this food that we would never finish off and I decided to share or was it because I'm scared to death that I may never live up to a MIL standard and so badly wanted to proof my worthiness? It's really sick and twisted. But I'm trying to just blow it off and chalk it up to the fact that it was a whim and it was beautiful and I can indeed bake like a Betty Crocker. If I was experiencing some sort of emotional damage repair moment in the kitchen, then this experience was a healing one. I can. I did. So there. Moving on to carrot cake and peanut butter bread.

On top of the point I made in the kitchen this weekend, I'm also experiencing some fear of death. I have my 4 month recheck at the Gyn next week and a small (Okay medium) part of me is fearing that this time I'll have cervical cancer. I lucked out 4 months ago in May and some cellular changes turned out to be something "we'll just keep a consistant eye on." Well, it's time for the recheck and all I can think about is that I'm not going to be so fortunate this time.

It actually brings tears to my eyes. I choke up when I think about who will be my childrens mother after I die. Mary Freakin Poppins? Oh Lord no. It's not that I fear death in itself, I'm just not done yet. I haven't shown my children how to make yeast dinner rolls (kidding.) There's just so much I haven't done and my children are so young.

SLJ wanted to know what was bothering me. Well, I unloaded no holds bar. "I'm gonna die, Mary Poppins will raise my children yadda, yadda, yadda."

WHOA! Slow down woman.

I want to paint in Provence like Van Gogh. I want to go to a nude beach nude in Jamacia Mon. There's just so much yanno. And then a person starts thinking about how they've lived their life to this point and ponder any regrets. I already know I have no regrets so that's not really an issue. Then there's the whole religion thing, but I'm pretty comfortable with my own beliefs so check that off the list. Will everyone really comprehend how much I have loved them? Is there something else I need to do?

I've really gotta stop making mountains out of mole hills, but this must be the season for deep thought and reflection so I might as well be welcoming towards it. It's there. It's legitimate. It'll pass.

I had a great epiphany this weekend as well. As a pisces I feel emotions pretty deeply. I've always been pretty tuned in to not only my feelings but the feelings of others. Lately though, it's a slight curse. It seems like every tear jerking moment on film catches my heart in its grips and I can relate to it so much deeper now. A movie moment will crush me like it never has before. I'm feeling things much deeper than before. Fever Pitch brought it out over the weekend. When my girl Drew and whats his face break it off. And when my girl Drew says that smart line about "something inside just shuts off" I lost it.

I know that this is because of my divorce. That was the deepest emotion I have ever had to deal with and because of it, I'm slightly more sensitive to anothers display of pain. However, I welcome this. I'm not scared or threatened by it because it reminds me I'm alive. There was such a long dull period that I experienced entirely on my own and my psychie did what it needed to do to survive and I shut down.
I banned weddings and funerals.
I no longer needed a box of tissue during a movie.
A hug was few and far between.
Swore I'd never get married again.
I felt I had actually shut that part off and grew past it. I was untouchable for so long. And then my marriage ended and I was so deeply wounded. Will I ever heal completely? Na, there will always be that annoying scar that no amount of cocoa butter will take away. And that's fine. It's okay. I actually welcome the feelings. I still don't like to cry and I may change the subject quickly or pass it off with an uneasy laugh that I so frequently do. But at least I feel and at least I know it's a process and not a sign of weakness. It makes me a more compassionate person.

A lot going on in this head of mine. I'll just go with the flow and let it go when I need to.

Little less bows and a lot more skin

2006-09-18T15:38:00.000-04:00

It's a good thing I'm a flexible person. Pisces tend to just go with the flow. I can still pout a bit though, I'm allowed.

I was supposed to sign divorce papers finally this past Friday. Didn't happen. Instead we had a pow wow on an issue we just can't seem to come to terms with. I've given in where I thought it wouldn't hurt. I've taken less than I'm probably due. I've communicated and worked hard to try to come to terms. But this one last issue I will not give in. It involves the children and I will do whatever I need to do to keep their best interest in mind. Mother first. So anyways, Friday was a pow wow with attorneys present and we did come to terms eventually about this last issue and new paperwork is being drawn up and I did get my way for the time being. So not a complete waste of time, but still disappointed that yet again, no papers have been signed. I'm over it. Moving on.

I cancelled the dinner and drinks "finally-signed-divorce-papers" celebration with the girls Friday night, Bummer. Nothing to celebrate. Decided to save it for a rainy day. But instead Saturday, attended my first Roller Derby. If you ever have a chance to go to a roller derby, make sure you're there! It was too cool. A bunch of cute gothy chics in short skirts and stockings putting hockey players to shame. I have to admit, I was there for the cat fights. I sat in "suicide alley" of course. They call it that because they can't gaurentee you won't end up w/ a derby girl flying at you. There were two cat fights right in front of me. No blood, but some pounding none the less. Right on. If only I was a stronger roller skater...

Saturday was chili and football in the afternoon. You should've seen SLJ's face when I announced that I was going to make chili for the game Saturday. He was thrilled. "You mean, we're watching the game again?" I have officially converted. I have changed my address with the USPS. I have taken my drivers test with the Ohio DMV. I have transferred records to a new dentist and a new vet. I have changed my income withholdings to Ohio. The only thing that was left was to purchase an Ohio State T-shirt and paint my face for game day. I am a full fledged Buckeye. Hey, if it makes my man smile like that... I'll do it every Saturday.

So... I'm watching the game and I caught a few z's during 2nd quarter. I wake up, a little groggy, trying my hardest to get back into the game. Trying to pay attention and be a good fan. I glance to the TV to see the boy going for the touchdown. I sit up hastily, scream "Go boy. Go boy. Go boy. Yes! Touchdown." And I'm actually feeling a little of what I like to call football fanatisicm for once in my life. I had the couch pillow squeezed hard between my thighs. I think my arms were up in the air and fists were clutched tight in victory stance. And I look to SLJ to confirm the play but he has this weird look on his face as he's looking back at me. And then I realize... "Oh. That was a replay clip wasn't it." Um. Yah. Oh Frell. I tried. And once again I got a "Crazy girl" from my SLJ. He'd be so meloncholy if it wasn't for me. I think my only argument with college ball is the fact that the cheerleaders still wear bows in their hair. Um, hello. Aren't we in our 20's now. Can't we be a little more like the NFL cheerleaders? A little more skin a lot less bows and ribbons? Stars on ice show more skin than that. Just a suggestion.

I was getting all stoked about this years Halloween party. I've changed my mind. The party is off. It was going to be too much of a hassle and a strain on the budget, especially now that Andi sent me that money windfall email and I didn't forward it to 12 people. Snarl. Grrr. But realistically, I could remodel the entire bathroom for what I would spend out on a Halloween party where 5 people would show. I sorta (Okay fully) pouted all day yesterday about it, but came up with an alternative plan. Apparently our neighborhood trick-or-treats consistently every Halloween, so I decided to dress the front porch up for all the trick-or-treaters. And I volunteered to be part of Thing 2's "Fall Harvest Party" at school. And I still have my traditions with the kids that I get to make SLJ and son a part of now which is very exciting. And there's a masquerade ball at the college that I can go to. And a local haunted corn field that SLJ raves about. So really, I'm still stoked. It's just a shame because I can throw a killer party. I'm over it. Moving on. Making Halloween brownies w/ the Things tonight. Next week it's dirt pie and The Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown. And there's still the Ghost of John song. And Nutter Butter Ghosts. And weenie roasts. And carrot cake with cream cheese icing. And Ghost in the Graveyard. And pumpkin carving. I've still got a plentiful bag of tricks. Maybe we'll even try making caramel apples this year. It's all good.
Any Halloween traditions you'ld like to share?
Popcorn balls anyone?

Boobs or Bon Bons?

2006-09-14T17:29:00.000-04:00

I'm a semi crafty girl. I really shine at Halloween. Pull out your Elvira wig Andi, cause I have officially started planning my Halloweenie Party. I am seriously stoked. I have an official folder in my file cabinet titled "Halloween." I'm making a list of all the cool ideas as they come to me. And as I'm making this list I'm trying to recall some of the cool ideas from previous years.

As I was thinking back I remembered the awesome chocolates my mom makes. And then I remembered when I tried to help; I avoided the making of chocolates scene for years because it just looks tedious. It fell into that catagory of knitting for me. I just can't seem to sit and concentrate long enough to make these tiny little ornate chocolates. There was the fact that my hands trembeled from the anti-depressants so a straight line was impossible. And the fact that I was playing in chocolate and more ended up in my mouth than in the molds. And the fact that my mom turns into a chocolate making machine like the Dunkin Donuts guy and it's completely unbearable to be around her at said point. I'd just smile and run through the kitchen.

I finally took a crack at it last year. I thought I'd sit down and make gorgeous caramel filled bon bons for the lovely people in my life. I called on my craftiness and remeniced on the film Chocolat that I so completly adored and began to work. I think I sat for like 4 hours trying to make these artful bon bons. My first batch came out of the mold and I realized I had made artful delicious looking boobs. I seriously made chocolate boobs. With little nipples even. I just about died laughing at my craftiness.

Clearly I should stick to party planning. I can plan every detail of an office retreat for 50 plus people in Chicago or Cincinnati for an entire weekend, but apparently I cannot make bon bons. My powers are limited.

Do you think I'm pretty?

2006-09-07T16:23:00.000-04:00

I got out of the shower this morning and my wet hair was all askew/disheveled. (I have stupid hair that I have to spray "No more tangles" in and comb thru every morning after my shower. Sometimes it can be quite painful.) This morning, I climbed out, towel dried the wet mop and looked up to see SLJ standing there having a conversation with me. With my hair all disheveled, hanging over my eyes in chaotic tangles, I looked at him cross-eyed and said in my very best I am Sam voice, "Do you think I'm pretty?"

I got a chuckle and yet another "Crazy Girl" from him.

This reminded me of my Teneille. Teneille has been my friend since our sweat pant and New Kids on the Block days in fifth grade. In fact, I'm sure there are pictures floating around somewhere of us dressed up in an evening gown with our chests stuffed and puckered bright pink lipsticked lips. The words "You mine tonight Ba-be" lingering in my mind.

Oh the stupid fun we had.

So that "Do you think I'm pretty?" was for you, Ten... And for hairspray, curling irons, razors and Danzig. At least I never had a rat tail or an Ariaga. D'oh!

Easy Peasy

2006-09-05T11:28:00.000-04:00

I bought new fingernail polish and couldn't decide which color I liked better so I painted one foot pink and the other coral. Problem solved.

I'm buying a new car! With the proceeds from the sale of my house, I have paid off a few bills and have decided to buy a new, brand new vehicle. I've never had a brand new vehicle before. SLJ's father is a dealer so we went to see him on Saturday. I test drove an Impala, Torrent, G6 and Malibu. Decided on the Malibu. I really liked the body style of the G6, but when I was driving it, I was so uncomfortable and claustrophobic that I actually started getting reflux. I quickly decided that a G6 was not for me. But I'm thrilled that I am so in-tune with my body that I identified the anxiety that driving that car caused me. The Malibu was my favorite and most comfortable and I can get into for payments under what I'm paying now on my 7 year old Jeep and save gas money and have a warranty if my tranny or turn signal decide to fail. SOLD! SLJ's father is looking around for the color I want and the best deal.I wasn't very excited at first. I've been waiting over a year for this. I've been dealing w/ a slipping tranny and a occasionally operable turn signal and bad rotors for a while now. I didn't want to sink any more money into that Jeep after new tires, new water pump and new front end. I just couldn't sink another penny into it without crying. So I waited. And waited. And poured a little tranny honey in. And waited. And finally, the house sold, and I'm test driving new cars. It was surreal. After figuring out exactly what I wanted, crunching a few numbers, and telling SLJ's father to find it, it finally sunk in. I'm getting a NEW, new car. With a warranty. And better gas milage. And NEW. And it just struck me this very instant, that I'm doing it on my own. Per se. I'm getting a great deal because of SLJ's parents, but it's totally me. I had SLJ with me and did ask his opinions and relied on his engine knowledge, but in the end...I'm getting whatever I want and nobody is saying different. It's my pocketbook, it's my gift to myself after 12 years of marriage and financing 2 houses. I'm not saying I've ever done without. I haven't. But this time it's different. There's a freedom in it and it feels like a good thing instead of a burden. I've had such bad luck shopping for cars and then repairs etc... This time, it's all taken care of. Finally something easy.

I watched the film "Friends with Money" last night. Total chick flic. I loved it. It gave me goose bumps and tears over and over again. It's about 4 middle aged friends and the dynamics of their marriages or lack of. I recommend it to any divorcee. I identified with the bullshit and I also identified with the passion and lonliness and depression too. It's a well versed film about true love and life. As I was watching the film, I remembered that awful feeling of being so alone I used to have. And the weird part was, I wasn't. I shared the house and my life with another human being but we were so disconnected at most times that it always felt like I was so alone. I recalled an intanst several years back, where I was folding laundry and the STBX walked in the house after work. Walked in the front door just a few feet beside where I sat folding laundry. I think I might've gotten a "Hi" and then poof he was gone doing something else. It felt like I was invisible. I remember that instant where I actually thought to myself "I need some attention. I need to feel touch. A little spark. Something. I need to feel wanted. There's something missing." That was several years ago. But this movie made me recall it for whatever reason. I just find it interesting. I thought it was me. That whole time I thought there was something wrong with me. If I could just fix it. I'm still processing it. I have a 3 day minimum process time. There's been a lot of reminders lately about how things used to be. All I can say at this point is that I have come a long long way. And I'm so proud of myself for identifying and processing these old emotions. I can do it now from a different perspective. I'm not in it anymore. I can see it directly for what it was. It amazes me people actually "sleep" thru that sort of stuff and pass it off as "normal." Simply amazes me.

Things that will cause me years of therapy:
1. Born and raised on Willie Nelson and Kenny Rogers. Once in a blue moon I find myself going back to my roots. You betta count yah money when ya sittin at the ta-ble...
2. Seeing an ostrich make a BM at the zoo. It's like a giant glob of bird poop. It's really not pretty.
3. Pulling eaten string out of Mikethedawgs ummm...yah.
4. Kicking my brother in the balls. My first and only death threat thus far. I slept with my bedroom door locked that night.
5. Coffee flavored cola. Don't do it man.
6. At work I was doing a CT on a child, I turned to speak to her parents behind me and they were making out. It scored a 10 on the OMG that's gross scale.
7. My dad farted in the grocery store when I was in middle school. Mortified. I'm really suprised I still speak to him.
8. I had a dance routine to "Baby got back."
9. Girl scout camp. Girls are almost as stupid as boys.
10. Precious Moments figurines. Creepy.
Tag. You're it.

Closure

2006-09-01T10:01:00.000-04:00

So, we sold the house and we had the closing last Friday at the title agency. STBX and I did okay, didn't talk much but I was only there for the check.

I'm signing papers and then I sit back and look across the table at the couple who is buying my house and I wonder to myself... does she garden? Will she be out there digging in my dirt? And then the tears crept up on me. Whoa. Where did this come from? I haven't lived in that house for over a year and all of a sudden I'm choking back tears and biting my lip. I will not cry. I will not cry. Especially in front of the stbx. Will not. It took about five minutes of looking out the window and deep breathing (on the way to the airport kinda breathing) before I regained control.

The final closure on the house. I loved that house. I absolutely loved it. Even though I had said bye to it before, I was saying buy to it again. Bye to my garden and that glorious sunset view over the pond and the bullfrogs at dusk and that wonderful bathtub... all gone forever.

Home is in my heart. And I know that the things we lose in our lives have a way of finding us again. I know this. It'll be worth the wait.

Bye house.

Living

2006-09-01T08:38:00.000-04:00

Thing 1 and Thing 2 started their new schools. As I watched Thing 1 get on the bus and head for middle school for the first time, I felt panicked and sad. It was like sending him to kindergarden all over again. I wanted to scream, "My Ba-by!" He was so dreading going to a brand new school, not knowing a soul there. It weighed heavily on the both of us.

I had to put up a fight w/ the STBX about which school system. Since we sold the house, the STBX is moving but we won't be in the same city. We went back and forth for an entire month. And in the end, I won. He doesn't even have an official new residence yet so there was no way he could enroll them. His district was to start a whole week earlier than my district and we weren't prepared for that with neither one of us even living in that district. If I enrolled them in the stbx district I would have to have them out of the house at 7:00 a.m. and then there was going to be 40 minutes between when the middle school started class and the elementary school started class. It just didn't make since. Either way it would have been a new school for both Things, but I felt it was in their best interest and easier for all of us if they were enrolled in my district.

So after a month of standing my ground and hoping I was doing the right thing, they finally started their new schools. And both of them love it. Whew. That is a big, huge weight off of our shoulders. Confirmation that I did the right thing.

We had a power outage the other night. The power was out for 24 hours even though I called the electric company 4 times. Each time I was told it would be on soon. I was not a happy camper and I was ready to hunt someone down. Luckily I only lost a few things in the fridge, and luckily the weather was somewhat cool and not smoldering or humid so we didn't require air or heat.

On top of that, SLJ was out of state for a work conference. Our first official time away from each other and my first official time being alone in his (our) house (with the power out.) Not fun.

SLJ had to make arrangements with the daycare for his son and had to fill his ex in on the situation. When she found out he was going out of state for a work conference she asked him if he needed her to come along. Yanno, to keep him company. Sure, it made me mad. But I know it was an act of desperation and I know she is living with her own guilt and stupidity, so I feel a little sorry for her. No, not really. I feel nothing for her. I just hope one day she grows up and becomes the woman and mother she needs to be, before it's too late. I'm not saying I'm perfect, I'm just saying I've fought my own demons and came out swinging so I expect the same from others.

Which brings me to the dark side. For some reason my demon fighting crossed my mind last night. It's hard to explain depression. You can't fully understand or appreciate it until you've been there. It's a dark, lonely place. The only person in your world at that time is yourself and you aren't good enough. There are all these things that you want and know you should be and feel, but it's impossible. And when that personal failure comes knocking at your door, it's completely devastating. I keep trying to remember the instant I crawled out. The why's and hows. And I just remember the point where I said, "it's all okay" and when someone else (Cheryl) confirmed that it was "all okay" it made a huge difference. I had a chance to go within myself and what I saw wasn't bad at all. In fact when I went inside myself, it was all very bright. Very light, very sunny and very peaceful.

I just wanted to accept myself and wanted to accept where I was. I think how I did that was knowing that it was a process and I started to trust the process. I realized that it was only temporary and it was for a damn fine reason and I was going to win in the end. I was valid. Everything I thought and felt was valid. No matter what it was. I had every right to think and feel what I did.

And then when I realized that everyone else was just as freakin mad as I was, I didn't feel so alone anymore. We're all a bunch of crazies. We all have a weakness. Mine just happened to be that I need to feel loved unconditionally. But it had to start with me. I had to love myself unconditionally before anyone else could..

So, my point... "It's very much all okay. And whatever you think, feel and say is all very much valid. This process is only temporary. You will win in the end. And I will love you unconditionally. No matter what. I love everything you are."

And on that note... I shall begin my day off running errands to the bank, post office, coffee shop, library and finally (if I don't chicken out) to the BMV where I shall take (and hopefully pass) my written test to transfer my licence to my new state of residence. (Wait, is there a state of residence called "Crazy?")

I'm working on a new post titled "Things that have caused me years of therapy." Yes, it will be a tag. Can't wait can ya...
#1) Kenny Rogers and Willie Nelson...

Rewarding isn't it.

2006-08-24T16:03:00.000-04:00

I was talking w/ my friend Lars the other day on my cell. She was mentioning how her sister was having some moments of insanity concerning her sisters teenage/adult children. I made a comment over the phone about how being a mother is the hardest job in the world. And in the back seat I hear my Tween Thing 1 say something to the effect about being a kid is actually the hardest job.

"Excuse me Lars, I need to go. It's time for a little heart to heart w/ Tween Thing 1. Click."

And so began my little logical speech about how being a kid is the one and only time in life that you have to worry about nothing.

Not only do I have to make sure that I have clothes, yet clean clothes on my body, but I also have to worry about whether two other people have clothes on their bodies.

Not only do I have to worry about my health, but I have to other people who I have to worry about their health too. Make sure they eat their vegatables and brush their teeth good.

Not only do I have to worry about what I'm going to eat that day, but I have to worry about how I'm going to provide food for two other people.

Blah, blah, blah.

I understand how it sucks that you can't always make your own choices when you're a kid and that control is not always yours, but there is a damn fine reason for that. If you make a wrong choice and break the law, guess who gets fined or put in jail.

Blah, blah, blah.

And I know you'ld rather stay at home and watch cartoon network all day instead of going to childcare, but not only will that totally mess w/ your brain waves, but CPS would be at our door.Blah, blah, blah.Life isn't fair when you're a kid. I get that. I try to give you choices where I can.

But at least you only have to worry about one thing and that's whether we'll be home in time to catch "Fosters home for Imaginary Friends."

I on the other hand have the weight of the world on my shoulders and I have to make choices on whether to buy a new pair of jeans for myself or pay the electric bill.

Welcome to my world.
I have the hardest job.
So there.
Complete silence.
My kids always seem to get it when I go off on my little logical speeches. I try to spare them the stress, but when I hear one little complaint, I tend to make my point very clear.

**************

After spending seven days with his father and the IL's, my Tween Thing 1 came back to me on Monday, a total asshole.
I had gone out Sunday evening for new school clothes and laid them all out on the bed for when they arrived home. We're talking Three pairs of new jeans, a few shirts, a new pair of shoes, new socks, new belt etc... and his reaction was like a slap in the face.

I could've strangled him.

I've gotten zilch from their father for the past year and I went out and bought all school supplies and then all those nice school clothes and "SLAP." And it wasn't even that he didn't like them. I told him he didn't have to like them. Whatever he didn't like I would take back.

Frankly, it just pissed me off.

But then I realized his attitude was a mirror image of his fathers. Selfish, negative, woe is me attitude.

And I think that's what I hated most.

I let it slide knowing that it wasn't really my Tweens fault. His father was the one bringing him down.

I let it slide because I know he's got a lot of new stuff going on. New house, new school, new friends, new families etc... I get it that the kid is going through a lot of changes.

So I let it all slide.I'll take the heat. I'll lighten the load. This is my purpose.
I tried Cookie Dough icecream.
I tried Eggo waffles.
I tried Robin Williams.
I tried Comic strips.
I tried late night Cartoon Network.
I tried tacos for dinner.
I tried letting them pick out their own new shoes.
I was almost exhausted. And then this morning...
Four days into our week, he flipped the switch.My light hearted, humorous, loving boy was back. Thank you PUFF!
He was all bright and shiny this morning. Laughing on our way to work.
He looked at me and grabbed my arm, "I love you. You're funny, mom."
I felt like doing a little dance.
The rewards are always greater.
I'll give him his space and let it slide as long as he always comes back to me.
Afterall, I'm on his side.

Poor Polo

2006-08-24T12:08:00.000-04:00

My oldest son is totally into bugs and spiders and anything that crawls and has an exoskeleton. When we first moved out and back into my parents house, he started a spider collection. There were several baby food jars with nasty looking spiders in them. I really didn't have much to do with the collection, I hate spiders, but I allowed him to display them on his dresser.

He collected these two huge hairy spiders and named one Marco and the other Polo and let them share a habitat. Well, it didn't end so well for Polo. Marco ate Polo. For some reason I find that histerical!

Ha, Marco ate Polo. Ha!

I guess Polo didn't hide very well.
*********************

I was driving down the road the other day. Had the Things with me. Thing 2 was in the back seat eating his breakfast and just simply stated that there was a spider behind my head. Thing 1, who was sitting in the passenger side, casually glanced behind me to see. And then the horror struck him and he grabbed my arm and said "Oh my gawd mom." He had these huge eyes and all I could picture was a tarantula crawling up my neck. I panicked and leaned way forward. I probably swerved on the road, I really can't recall. I'm lucky I didn't black out. I turned off on the next road, jumped out of the truck and took a deep breath before I went spider hunting. I grabbed a tissue and swatted at the spider that had made a little web between the seat belt thingy and the head rest. He was hairy. He was creepy. He deserved to die. And that he did.

The whole time Thing 2 just sat there eating his pop-tarts.

I gave Thing 1 a lecture on how not to startle someone who is driving. He just said that he didn't want the spider to get in my hair.

I've got shivers up my spine just thinking about it.

Frozen Bever

2006-08-23T14:28:00.000-04:00

I like to read the signs on my way to and fro.

I found one the other day - Actually it was pointed out by my Tween Thing 1 -

A pizza place sign that reads "Frozen Bever"

I think they mean "Frozen Beverages" but it still makes me laugh out loud every time I see it.

Gawd, if my Tween Thing 1 only knew... better off that he doesn't. Hopefully they change it before he catches on.

Frozen Bever. Bwahahaha! ah.

Juggernaut in the hood

2006-08-21T16:44:00.000-04:00

Friday night was GNO. It has been seven months since the last GNO. That's a lot of laundry.

So we make it to this bar/pool hall/dance floor place that I absolutely abhore. It's in the hood. But only half the people wear shoes. We get our first drinks, sway to the beat of the cover band playing. And then all of a sudden I find myself alone. On the dance floor. Beside a big beef eater I called Juggernaut. He smiled at me and I swear I thought of that movie Hostel. Juggernaut wants to dance with me. Either that or wrap that thick pewter chain he's wearing around my neck and kill me. But I decide what the frell. I can dance with a Juggernaut in the hood, even if he is wearing a skin tight tank top. So I throw a little NATR head moves in there, and he bounces his pecks for me, which makes me smile and chuckle to myself. Is this guy for real? Yes. Yes, he thought he was. Gawd love em.

So the song ends and I go hunt down my BFF to kill her for leaving me on the dance floor all alonesome with Juggernaut. I inform her that she is indeed no longer my BFF. She loses. So of course she wants to make it up to me. So I say fine, she has to dirty dance with Juggernaut and then I'll be happy. I suddenly hear the words "save a horse ride a cowboy" and I insist that this is the song she must dirty dance with Juggernaut to and then we'll be friends again.

She does. She did. Except at first her and Juggernaut weren't close enough to satisfy me. Me and my partner in crime decide to move in. We attack from both sides. We push our bodies against my BFF so that she is forced to move in closer to Juggernaut... and then we leave. Misson accomplished. The BFF is now riding a seven foot, tank top, rope like chain, mullet wearing, peck bouncing, cowboy. We are friends again.

Oh, and we saw Kid n' Play at the same bar. Must've been movie star night out...

G.I. Jane smiles in the mirror

2006-08-21T16:26:00.000-04:00

I happened to catch some of the best parts of that film G.I. Jane the other night.

I clicked on just as Demi has finished "Hell Week" and they are being dismissed for a little R&R.

They have the chance to "ring out" or quit.

A few soldiers, thoroughly exhausted and broken down, step up and ring a bell to signify that they quit.

Demi is the last soilder standing.

She frumps there staring at the bell.

It would be so much easier to quit; to go home and take a nice hot shower, to order a pizza and watch a movie, than to be beaten and broken.

So much easier.

Instead, she pulls out that pretty package of courage, that was hiding deep down inside for just such an occasion, and she walks right past the bell.

And what does she do then?

She takes the clippers to her hair. Oh yes, we all remember jar-head Demi.

She smiles at the mirror.

She knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, who is holding the Ace of Spades.

I got goose bumps. I smiled with her. I knew I would blog about clicking on to G. I. Jane. I've felt that broken before. So many times I just wanted to ring out. But what I realized when I saw Demi smile in the mirror, is that I felt that pride before as well.

Babe, just pull out that pretty package at the bottom of the bag, (the one labled "MEAN SOB")and go smile in the mirror.

Because, darlin, you are indeed holding the Ace of Spades. Walk on past that bell and go shave your head!

The lighter side

2006-08-16T10:57:00.000-04:00

I had a conversation with my older brother the other night. Headlines are bothering him. We were, or I should say, he was discussing his place in life. Many people ponder Why, What and How we are supposed to live. As if it feels like there should be something more or we should be making more of an impact or significance. These things haunt us in our sleep. They hit us as we are driving down the Interstate. They keep us up at night. While it may be that my brothers purpose is to die a martyr in the apocolypse, I believe it is my purpose to lighten the load. It's my purpose to stop and smell the lilacs. My purpose is to point out the not so serious side of life. My kids think I'm a dork. I'm okay with that. I try to be weird any chance I get. My goal in life is to get my Tween Thing 1 to crack a grin. There's so much shit happening out there right now. So much stress and tension that weighs on our shoulders. I choose to just simply flip the switch and bring out the black light.

Here are some funnies to give you a chuckle-

I have this great T-shirt. It says "Gay? Fine by me." Simple statement. It just says I could not care either way. It was given to me by my Lars and I was dared to wear it around my mother who thinks all Goth people are gay. I haven't exactly worn it around my parents, BUT I was wearing it the other night when I noticed SLJ's mother and sister outside sitting in the swing. I galloped over to converse. It hit me about halfway across the yard that I was wearing my "Gay? Fine by me" shirt, but I shrugged and didn't really think it mattered. I'm not out to offend anyone, I'm just okay with how I feel. I wasn't trying to make a statement. I was just wearing a shirt and wanted to converse with the boyfriends family. Well, it got back to me a few days later that SLJ's mother and sister didn't really care for my shirt. SLJ and I had a good laugh over it and I called Lars up and had a few more good laughs over it. Take me as I am, or don't take me. Either way, you lose. Hee Hee.

Picture this. There I am at the lake with SLJ. We decide to go for a night ride on the boat. SLJ is taking forever trying to get the rear pole light to work. He's spent 20 minutes on it. Switching poles out, fiddling with the wires. It will only work if he holds it at a certain angle. Well, that's never going to work. I'm standing there on the dock day dreaming and contemplating how I'm going to enter the boat. Looks easy enough. Place one foot on the seat and then the other and then Viola. One would think. Somehow, and I blame Smirnoff, I had my left foot on the seat and my right foot in the water between the boat and the dock. I'm hanging by my left knee from the boat. I pull myself up on the dock and lay there laughing and wondering how the frell that just happened. It looked so easy. I have a nice bruise now on my right knee. SLJ and I decided that it was clearly a big sign with blinking lights that we should indeed NOT take the night boat ride. Not 10 minutes later did it start storming.

Speaking of signs; I like to read Church signs as I drive. I don't go to church. I just read the signs. Currently there is this Church sign that reads "Joint Services." I think I might start having to go to church.

I'm not good at haggling or bartering. It's not something I do. I was talking to one of SLJ's sisters about going to Garage Sales etc... and trying to talk people down on their price. Apparently she's pretty good at it. She was at a garage sale just the other day and found a blanket she just had to have. It didn't have a price on it. The owner said he wasn't going to sell it. But then asked, just out of curiosity, how much would she give for it. She said she wasn't comfortable bartering. The owner said he'd sell it to her for Five dollars. She said "How about Three." He said okay and then she said, "You got change for a Twenty?" Oh she's good. She's real good!

We've all seen those shirts that say "I'm with Stupid" and points to the person next to you. I really wanted Andi and I to wear shirts like that when we went on that amusement park trip with our now x's forever ago. I so badly wanted to wear a shirt that pointed to the STBX in the mass crowds. Well, my IT guy the other day said he thought of me on his drive into work. He said there was this lady driving beside him just singing away. Really gettin her groove on and belting out the verses. He chuckled and then as she passed him, he read her bumper sticker that said "I'm not with Stupid anymore." That's GREAT! The fact that she was gettin her groove on was even better.

I have this nephew I completely adore. He's this little toe-headed creep. He has that sweet and innocent look about him, but the kid is completely insane. That's why I love him. He loves his Aunt Tarol too! I remember in preschool him getting in trouble in the restrooms. Apparently he wouldn't come out of the stall for the teacher. Instead he giggled and went under stall to under stall and locked all the stall doors. I was pretty darn proud of him for that one. Then once when I was living with my parents still, I came home to find my mom was babysitting creep. He ran up to me to tell me all about his video game accomplishments. I mentioned that I had his birthday present to give to him since I had missed his party. I then got side-tracked and got busy talking to my parents and doing some other things. About an hour later, Creep comes up to me and says "Aunt Tarol, we need to talk a minute." So I follow his lead into the other room where he turns around with a stern look on his face and says "You mentioned something about a birthday present." I completely lost it. Creep just has a way of working you. He's completely insane and so very cool. Apparently his mother has banned him from all violent video games and TV. Come to find out him and another little boy broke a cats tail. Not sure how it happened, but neither one of them had been scratched.

I can't believe I'm telling you this, BUT the other day I had a blonde moment. I've got my own power tools. I know a lot more than the average person about remodeling. I can drywall with the best of them. Well, the other day I was hanging some things up on the kitchen wall. I was using my cordless drill to drive in a screw. But for some ungodly reason I just couldn't get the screw to go into the wall. I thought I must have hit a stud or a freakin pipe or something because no matter how much pressure I exerted on that drill, it just wouldn't go through the wall. So I did something I hate doing. I sucked it up and called SLJ in to help me out. I was clearly exhausted from my exertion and explained that I just couldn't get the screw to go in the wall. So he simply flips the little switch that directs whether the screw goes IN or whether the screw goes OUT of the wall. Zip, screw went right in. I looked very seriously at SLJ and said "We will not mention this again." He didn't even smile. He just handed me the drill and walked away.

And in other news. It's August. It's time to start planning my Halloween Party. I got SLJ's approval last night. I'm so stoked! I can hardly stand it. If you've never been to one of my Halloween parties then you're missing out! Halloween was kind of a let down last year, so I definitely plan on making up for it this year! I'm afraid SLJ doesn't know what he's getting himself into. Oh, he's seen the boxes of Halloween Decor, but he has not seen the transformation I go thru in October. Gawd help him.

So, I'm back.

2006-08-07T16:13:00.000-04:00

So, I'm back. That week went way too freakin fast! Had a great time!

Came back to:
1. My house is sold. Closing on or before September 1st.
2. I rcvd a settlement check from insurance for the things that were stolen out of my storage unit back in April.
3. The final divorce papers are in process. We're ready to sign them as soon as the paperwork is done.

All good things! So why is it that I'm not all that excited?
1. I've waited over a year for the divorce and the house to sell. I can't afford to get excited now. Just in case. When I have a check in hand then I'll be excited.
2. I can't deposit my settlement check from insurance without the STBX. He actually has to okay that the check be deposited in my acct. It's only a big deal because it's an insurance settlement paid to the order of both of us and we no longer have a joint acct.
AND...the STBX actually demanded that he get a cut of MY settlement check.
Ha.
As if.
As far as I'm concerned, his demanded portion can buy new school clothes and supplies for his kids.
OR reimburse me for the 9 months I paid for his cell phone service.
OR reimburse me for the total support of his children that I have taken care of for the last year and he has not contributed a dime towards.
OR it can just simply reimburse me for my pain and suffering and the operation I had to get the hemrroid removed from my ass about a year ago.
And speaking of ass, that's exactly where he can stick his head because he isn't getting a dime of this check.
3. The STBX is NOW after all this time ready to expedite the divorce because he says that if we do not have a judges signature on our divorce papers that it will hold up the title work for the sale and/or prohibit him from buying something new. He says that he "could be homeless in a few weeks if we haven't signed divorced papers because it will affect his new mortgage approval."
Ask me if I care.
I am the epitomy of patience. I have mastered the art of "hanging."

So moral of that story is that I'm relaxed and I trust that things will happen in due time. I'm not going to get my panties in a bunch NOW because he is freaking out. I will celebrate when I have check in hand and I see my first child support check.

Back to my time away...
1. I wore my bathing suit 24/7. A 2-pc w/o hesitation and w/ a feeling of grace and beauty.
(Yes that's Dancer in her bikini. Not a care in the world. Accepting that she's beautiful and dancing freely.)
2. My friend Smirnoff only pushed me off the boat once. Gave me a bruise on my knee.
(Yes that's Dancer. One leg in the boat, one leg in the water. Can't get up. SLJ laughing his ass off while trying to save her.)
3. Even though I'm terrified to get my face under water, I can still "float."
(Yes that's Dancer. At the sandbar. Floating on her back. Holding her breath in her cheeks like a freakin baboon while SLJ chuckles to himself.)
4. We purused several antique malls and I walk away w/ a brass incense burner made in China. (Yes that's Dancer getting all giddy over the Cabbage Patch Cat named "Patches" that she used to have as a little girl and is now displayed in an antique booth.)
5. We went to see that movie "You, Me & Dupree."
(Yes once again, Dancer over there busting a gut laughing at Owen Wilson.)
6. We went fishing. We went for Bass but only nabbed a couple baby Blue Gill.
(Yes. Dancer. Casting her line right there in the sea weed. Damn.)

We had lots of fun! The weather couldn't have been better. We drank. We swam. We boated. We BBQ'd. We played hard and thought little.

We spent Saturday giving SLJ's (our) kitchen a face lift. His Ex liked apples. So bye-bye went the whole apple motif and hello-hello came the brown and black wrought iron scroll Mikasa motif. Kickin.
Apples. As if.
And I did it all under $80 including the antique wrought iron scroll work Mikasa set of dishes I found a year ago at the Goodwill store. Cause I'm a winner.

Badly needed time away

2006-07-27T13:07:00.000-04:00

Off to the lake for a week or so. Sunning, boating, fishing, swimming, beering, bbqing, antique shopping and drive in theater-ing... just me and my SLJ!

When I come back, I'm expecting to sign divorce papers... took the bull by the horns, I did. Actually, I didn't really have to. I think we're both just ready to tap out.

Just keeping it real

2006-07-25T16:13:00.000-04:00

I've come to a complete quality of life understanding - I've lost a lot of "things" in the last year. A lot of things gone, but somehow I'm still the same prosperous person. Maybe even a better person. Trust me when I say the things that you lose always come back around in some form or another.
Okay, I'll be the one to admit it. I'm flat broke. Yup, just like the rest of the world. Sure I'm not poverty stricken. My needs are met plus a little desires thrown in here and there. But I'm not wealthy either. I can't jump on a plane and fly off somewhere exotic. In fact, traveling an hour from home in my vehicle isn't even in the budget. But you know what? I'm entirely okay with it. I'm okay with my financial situation because I know that I work for it, I earn it and I spend the majority of it wisely.

I keep things real.
I know who I am and what I'm made of and I don't need labels to dictate the fact that I am valid.
There are only a few things that I am brand specific on and that's only because I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they are of higher quality and will last as long as I need it to last.
I am not however, brand specific when it comes to food (coffee beans aside). I have no problem walking into an Aldis, a Savemore, a Doller General or whatever close out store there is. Dish soap is dish soap whether it costs a dollar or four dollars. It all cleans the dishes. So what if I have to bag my own groceries. If it's going to save me a couple bucks, I'm all for it. I'm fully capable.

I buy things for the way they fit or the way they look, not for whose name is on it. In this age, with many single, middle-class, working, parents and gas prices that make you want to run and hide, you have to be responsible for your finances and your own financial future.
Let's keep it real. If you can't afford it and don't need it...then don't buy it. I bet the people who live in the mountains of Jamiaca mon don't have it and somehow they get along just fine.

Sure, there are things I'd kinda like to have. I'd like to hop on a plane and spend a week back in California. I'd like to buy a bra that actually fits me. I'd like a new purse because the one I'm using is driving me crazy when I go to look for my keys. I'd like to have another back massage to loosen the tension in my muscles. But hell, ya know what? If it costs more than ten dollars, I'm not going to get it this week and most likely not next week either.

Right now, I'm just grateful that my bills are paid up, my vehicle still runs and gets me from A to B and back to A, I have a roof over my head and a comfortable bed and my children have food on their plates and clean clothes. What else really matters? When they are hungry, do you think they care whether I bought those bananas from Kroger or Aldis? When they get dressed in the mornings, do you think they give a damn if I bought that shirt at a second hand store or the local mall?

There is an odd satisfaction in "keeping it real." Just remember, you can't take any of it with you when you go.
Dancers 15 tips to keeping it real:
1. The local library instead of Barnes & Noble
2. Discount food stores- it all nuriches and turns to crap in the end
3. Clip coupons (I don't clip because I don't buy the paper)
4. Use the cell for long distance calls and limit it to nights or weekends
5. 87 Octane is just as good
6. Goodwill or close out stores have nice barely used clothes & furniture
7. Eyeball the racks for the bright yellow "Clearance" toppers
8. Constantly ask yourself "Do I want or do I need" and practice a little delayed gratification
9. Think ahead and stash a little away into 529 plans or IRA's - make your future just a bit more comfortable
10. Do the drink special or just go with water
11. Check out which nights the kids eat free or which night is five dollar pizza night
12. Split an entree
13. Go to the dollar theater
14. Be aware of the electricity you use and teach your children the importance of conserving
15. Use the credit or debit with a rebate, it's free money

I feel so loved

2006-07-20T17:44:00.000-04:00

They love me, they really love me!

I got flowers delivered to work yesterday! A beautiful spring bouquet w/ light pastel pinks and purples! (And if I could find my battery charger for my digicam, I would photograph them for you to see.)

No, they were not from my SLJ... in fact, the card didn't say WHO they were from. Perhaps they were from my back-up boyfriend. Or Will Smith. Or maybe Sly Stallone.

Anyways, the office gals are wondering WTF is going on because they've thought I was extremely happy w/ SLJ all this time. Which of course I am, but they don't need to know that.The way I see it, it's my job to keep them guessing. It just adds to my mystique.

Nah, I'm no fool. I know exactly who they came from...
The card reads:
Thinking of you... hang in there, baby! You've got'em by the nuts. You know you do.

I swear my secret admirer is a hoot!
I've been dying to call her and share a funny, embarrassing story that would make her pee herself from laughter...but alas, I can't. I might... say, if she were to share her own funny, embarrassing story about the, perhaps, water boy...

Okay then... I'll just keep my little funny story to myself no matter how hard it is not to tell someone and double over with laughter.

Is that Island Music I hear, Mon?

2006-07-18T09:53:00.000-04:00

Nothing like Tuesday donuts! Mmmm! I heart candy sprinkles.Last night SLJ and myself took a little trip to Jamaica mon. Well, okay, not for real, but the mind is easy to manipulate.I've been in a "the summer is almost over and all I've done is work" crisis, and SLJ had a terribly hot and miserable day so I called on my powers of surrealism and created a oceanside escape for the two of us.The hotel housekeeping sucks, but the contential breakfast and clothing optional swimming pool was fantastic.
Here's how it goes:
In our minds
We enjoyed about an hour of our personal (clothing optional) hottub on the balcony of our hotel room that overlooked the beach.
For Real
We enjoyed about an hour of our personal (once again clothing optional) inflatable pool in our backyard that has a lovely view of the fertilizer plant.
In our minds
We ordered room service and partook in the islands red beer.
For Real
We picked up a large pizza from a local joint and poured a couple of tall, frosty glasses of Coors Light.
In our minds
We smoked some good shit that a few locals slipped us.
For Real
We smoked a generic cigarette purchased at the local gas station (I'm only a social smoker so I choked on a single puff - It was some good shit.)
In our minds
We relaxed under a hatched roof canopy on the beach and listened to the sounds of the ocean and sea gulls.
For Real
We relaxed under the patio umbrella and listened to the robins and trains.
In our minds
We laughed at the assholes we work with because they were still stuck in the 95 degree Mid West.
For Real
We bitched about the assholes we work with while we were still stuck in the 95 degree Mid West.
In our minds
I was the hottest chic on the beach and had a fantastic tan.
For Real
I was the hottest chic in our little train station town and I am pigmentless and have never had a fantastic tan in my entire life.
In our minds
We went back up to the air conditioned hotel room and bought a pay per view.
For Real
We went back in the house and watched a DVD (Out Cold) and ate a bowl of Chocolate Cherry Blast ice cream.
In my mind
I woke up and trotted down to the hotel lobby in my PJ's for the contential breakfast.
For Real
I woke up to my damn alarm clock, showered, dressed, drove 35 miles to work, found the Tuesday donuts in the breakroom.

Tonight...we're going to Puerrrrto Rrrrico.
For real...a couple shots of rum and left over pizza.

It's only Tuesday?

2006-07-11T14:19:00.000-04:00

I was running late for work today. Instead of calling the office, I somehow called West Hollywood.
I'll take that as a sign.

I padded off to the bedroom to wake up The Things, and found a Tween Angst note. Choked down panic with peaceful assurance. A flash into what lies ahead in the next few years. Calmed the horizons with truth and dignity and the rise and fall of the chest.

Dog shit in the middle of the kitchen floor. Whose dog is this?

Wrinkled shirts and bad hair day. Nothing dryers and scissors can't fix.

The big O elluded me. But then who has the right to complain after 150 in a row.

Barely side swiped. Nothing like the road rage. Astonishment with a half cocked smile on the tweens face. Yah. Dearest mommy has some anger issues but you don't see angst notes here do ya.

I enter the office a mere 25 minutes late only to find hardware failure. Then a thought of Morelli made the future bright.

Chaos of the Vera Bradley kind in which I was the one trampled at the door.

And then...

My horoscope read:
It will be hard to deal with the emotional issues that are likely to arise because of a strong misleading force that is feeding the illusion that things are fine when really they are not. Stop pretending that everything is going well. The sooner you face the truth, the sooner it will stop plaguing you. In an effort to keep everything running smoothly, you probably continue to go with the flow and perpetrate the deception, when really you need to confront it head-on.

So...there's that.

I wouldn't have paid any attention to this, except this morning was a rough one and I was hoping for a good outlook and this one got thrown in my face. Not what I wanted to see.

I hardly take significant stock in anything forecasted or written by "man." I am a true believer in what happens, happens for a damn fine reason. Therefore, I tend to go with the flow. Swimming downstream is much easier.

What I instantly got from this forecast though, is to "take the bull by the horns." Any coincidence that the STBX is a Taurus? I think not. The one thing that I've found true about bulls... they have stubborn control issues. They must always remain in control. It's about fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of how other people will react. Fear of losing because maybe, just maybe, the other person is better than the bull could ever be. It's kind of like the short man syndrome. Short little guy w/ great big attitude just to let people know he exists. Like the typical three year old.

I know how to take the bull by the horns. I do. The question is, do I have the energy? I know how. I know it takes a lot of craft. But my girl is crafty.

Can't I just detour and shoot the damn bull straight in the heart? A bullet doesn't cost much. Let it flop over and bleed out? I'm all about non-conformity.

I apologize for being stereotypical of the Taurus. I know two Pisceneans that are not much like myself, so I have no right to group. It's just something I've noticed about the bulls I do know. But it all remains in the hour.

It's just that I'm just so freakin tired. Emotionally and physically.
The inevitable dangling carrot.
Comfort zone, what comfort zone?
I've been yelling "Sanctuary" on deaf ears for over a year.
I've trusted the process.
I've hung.
I've gone ape-shit on a punching bag.
I've been blinded by looking at the bright side. All I can see are little blue dots.

Alas, I have no choice but to keep going with the perception that everything is okay. Everything has to be okay or I would lose my mind again. I retain the idea that everything is just how it should be. For some reason or another.

The choices we make can tell us a lot about ourselves.
Do I choose to take the bull by the horns or do I go with the flow?
Reminicent of the road less traveled.
And that makes all the difference.

At least I have speed dial.

The Center of the World

2006-07-06T14:50:00.000-04:00

Andrea suggested that I write about my new home. I'm just going to wing this and see what happens.

I live in a little country town. Don't think Mayberry, it's not like that. Think more of "Don't blink or you'll miss it" on the way to Mayberry. At the entrance to the town is the old elementary school building. A mammoth block style brick building with a half moon drive in the front and ancient trees at the entrance and exit to the half moon drive. It's really kind of beautiful. Unfortunetly the school is no longer operational. I guess it was turned into a restaurant/meeting hall for a while. Currently it's up for sale again. I've racked my brain trying to think of a genius way to restore it's former beauty and make a profit, but I hardly think anything could survive in this tiny little town between the cornfields.

There's a grain/fertilizer plant that the farmers visit often. The lane runs right beside our house. Constant farming equipment, like Tera Gators and such in and out of the lane to the plant. Luckily there is hardly any activity to and fro on the weekends.

The town surrounds both sides of the train track. Our place is off to the West side of the track. I don't even notice the trains unless I'm on the telephone and have to pause the conversation until the train passes. I don't hear them in the middle of the night anymore. I don't hear the dinging bell telling me a train is approaching. It's just like an aquired taste now.

There is also a tiny little post-office across the tracks, I haven't ventured in yet. Although I'd like to see if the post office boxes are detailed and antiqued like the old post offices boxes. It looks claustrophobic to me, I'm afraid there won't be enough room for me and the post master at the same time.

Other than that, there's a handful of houses. And each house has at least one dog. I know this because when one dog starts barking they all start barking. We live in this mammoth 2 story rectagular house just off the track. This house used to be the train depot and was moved off the track a bit and set in it's own parcel of land with a few mammoth ancient trees and sidewalk gracing the front. I think the external structure is actually brick, but it's been covered in asphalt shingle type siding and then eventually a kahki vinyl siding. The roof is slate. I'm a big fan of slate shingles. It adds an element of antiquity and of course slate lasts forever. The interior structure has been remodeled several times and looks like it's up for more remodeling soon. There are still a few arched entryways and the rooms are monsterous.

The view from the upstairs windows is pretty great. Our East facing bedroom window looks just into and slightly over the mammoth tree canopy out front. Our West window over looks the fenced in back yard. I have two favorite spots of this house. I love our newly remodeled bedroom. It's huge yet cozy. I love sitting on the big bed and watching Ulitmate Fighting. The lighting is just right too. Not too bright, not too dark. Just really warm and really comforting. I could spend an entire lifetime wrapped up in that big bed.

My other favorite spot is the front porch that's shaded by the mammoth tree canopy. The birds love that tree. There's an older metal porch glider. Like one that you would find on your grandmothers porch back in the 60's. I love nostalgic things like that. On the other end of the porch is a table w/ chairs. It's the perfect place for breakfast, coffee and the newspaper on the weekends.

SLJ's parents live in the same little town. Their backyard and our backyard connect. It's a pretty spacious lot that we use to clink a few golf balls or baseballs. I adore his family. We may be neighbors but we still have our space. We can share things like sugar and eggs or hedge trimmers and ladders. It's mostly us doing the borrowing from them, but in return they have their only son to help with winterizing the boat or installing new rain gutters. It works out nicely.

SLJ's mom is the neighborhood cat lady. It's more of an arrangement. The neighborhood cats find food and shelter in her shed. (Andrea, please skip over this next part) Although ever since SLJ was attacked by one of neighborhood kitties, he kind of, shall we say "trains them" to stay out of his yard and garage. As far as the attack goes, think of that nice little webby, flap of flesh between your thumb and forefinger and then think of sharp little teeth stuck deep, deep into it, not letting go, while clawing and ripping the rest of your body like a mad cat on crack. Yah. Ever since then, the cats are "trained" to stay out of SLJ's territory or they might find themselves covered in colorful cod oil. I have to admit...when I see a cat stealthfully try to sneak in the garage, I kindly warn it, "Oh little kitty, you know better than that, you better leave" and then call out to my 6'2" Elmer Fudd who will instantly drop everything to play like cops and robbers with the little kitties. It's kind of my own little entertainment to see a 6'2" man slide around the corner and then miss his target while the porch gets covered in colorful cod oil. Yah. I enjoy it. I'm sick like that. But hey, it's better than cow tipping right? Besides, we're more "dog people." Although one of our dogs thinks it's a goat. It stands on top of my patio table like it's a goat, but hey! to each their own.

I turned the corner on my way home from work the other night to find SLJ standing in the drive. Instant smiles came to face. I am very blessed. I fit perfectly here in this tiny little town surrounding the track, in this mammoth former train station house, with my 6'2" Elmer Fudd, our antique porch glider and our goat.

My Independence Day gift

2006-07-05T10:30:00.000-04:00

Quite the Independence Day.
SLJ and I spent the entire day alone. No family, no friends just the two of us.
After a lazy morning, we decided to take a little trip to this little canal town along the Maumee River in NW Ohio. The downtown is quant with antique and gift shops. We browsed around the gift shops and later strolled along the scenic river path. It was a beautiful day and nice just being alone together. When we returned home we decided to catch a movie at the theater and ordered pizza to take home for dinner. We ate our pizza in bed while we watched TV. It was a calm, peaceful, beautiful day.
The highlight: As we were browsing through one of the gift shops in the canal town, a woman in her late 30'S-early 40's, passes by with her husband I presume, pats my arm and says "You're pretty" and walks on. I stumbled out an astonished, barely audible "Thank you." Tears instantly came to my eyes, but I had a huge smile. I couldn't speak for a few minutes for fear of crying but when I told SLJ what she had said he said "See, I'm right by popular vote."
It means so much to me when SLJ tells me I'm beautiful or that I'm "hot," it really does. But when a total stranger, a straight woman even, out of the blue, tells me I'm pretty... It meant the world. If only she knew what that meant to me. What a gift that was. It just kind of wrapped up that last shred of past verbal abuse and hugged it tightly till it disappeared.
Independence.
Healing and such a kind but simple thing to give and receive.
Happy Independence Day!

for lack of better material

2006-07-03T15:00:00.000-04:00

1. I don't know how to use that stupid melon baller thingy. I'm melon baller deficient. SLJ makes it seem so easy. He comes out with these perfect balls of melon, while mine come out like shreds of melon. I just don't get it.

2. We made our first trip to our new local library. Thing 1 bypassed the children section and the Teen section and went straight for the adult fiction/mystery. I walked Thing 2 around the childrens section, pointed out interesting looking childrens books. He picked nothing. So we redevoued with Thing 1 in the adult fiction/mystery where they both proceeded to pick out a book. Which left me confused... Cool that they are past the early reader stage. Not so cool that I have to debate on the rating of the material. Why don't books come with an "E" for everyone or "M" for mature. The rest of the media is rated, why aren't books? I have to rely on what the Washington Post says? As if.
Me... I picked out a book on tape to listen to on my way to and from the job.

3. I constantly forget how good Dannon Carb&Sugar Control Vanilla Cream yogurt is. The stuff is just yummy! But if I open the fridge and have to choose between Edys Tollhouse icecream or Dannons Vanilla Cream... I'm afraid I'll pick the Edys. Why? Afterall I love the Vanilla Cream yogurt that is low in sugar and carbs, but alas, I like my thighs wrinkly.

4. SLJ is good. I could go on and on about him, but I don't think that ever makes for good reading material and HEY, I'm here to entertain, so I won't. Just know that we're good going on 5 months now. He's a gem! He's good to me. I'm very, very blessed.

5. Of course it's raining. We put up the tent in the side yard, washed the camaro and I promised Sneakz it would stop raining. I just, like, cursed myself. I may not be a rocket scientist, but I can make it rain.

6. Things I look forward to:
a. UFC Tito and Shamrock this coming weekend. Right on!
b. Introducing SLJ to Indian cuisine this week. Mid-week dinner planned with another couple.
c. Neck and shoulder massage Mid-week. Woo-hoo! Going to try to rid myself of that Rt. scapula knot once and for all before it lands me another ER bill from back muscle spasms. That last spasm cost me dearly. I could've had at least 8 professional massages out of that. The key is being proactive. YES, this is how I rationalize it.
d. It's PayDay week!

7. Why does it cost $10 to get your credit report? That's something I will never understand. But, I did it. I thought it would be smart to know what's on there being that the STBX and I still have joint debt. Let's just say that I wasn't entirely happy with the debt balances the STBX has been responsible for in the last year while we've been trying to get divorced. I should've been more proactive with putting barriers on the use of credit cards. My own fault I guess. Live and learn. But none of them are in default, so I guess that's a plus. Everything is in order except my first mortgage, that was paid off 3 years ago, still remains on my report. I'll have to take care of that. Here's hoping for an easy correction. Clink, clink.

8. Still waiting for my house to sell. Lowering the price yet again.
Still waiting for my divorce. I just don't get what the hold up is. Seems STBX is dragging his feet for some odd reason or another. At the end of this month we will have been separated for a year (and married for 12. Happy Anniversary.) He's the one that set this whole process in motion, so I'm not understanding the hold up here. (Besides the fact that he's wanting to hang on to the last shred of control.)
Still waiting for the insurance company to process my case of stolen items out of storage. "One to two weeks" has turned into four. Oh but when they want money they aren't so lax.
Still waiting for the clock to strike the big 5:00 so I can leave this dungeon they call my place of employment.

Mary Freakin Poppins

2006-06-26T14:27:00.000-04:00

A couple of the things I detest about myself is the fact that I'm too nice and I always think of good comebacks after the fact.
Yesterday I met my STBX's girlfriend of almost 10 months. I was picking my kids up and she officially introduced herself. Kudos to her for introducing herself, but that didn't help her out in forming my first impression.
She practically ran out of her house, met me on the sidewalk and puked nicey nice all over me. I was stunned. STBX just stood behind her not saying a word. Stood behind her like her little boy toy. She evidentially is one of those fake, shallow, overly nice persons who most normal people would like to strangle. Or poke a spork in her eyeball.
So she runs out of the house, throws her hand out to me to shake, introduces herself like I've heard a zillion of her greatest accomplishments and then proceeds to tell me how great my children are. I swear it was a good thing I had my sunglasses on because I'm sure my expression would've given me away. Not impressed.
Sure, she was cute and thin (ug!) but, MY GOD, how fake. SLJ was sitting in the car witnessing the tragedy. He saw her, heard her and did one of these numbers "Oh. For. Real." and lowered his head so he wouldn't have to witness the ugliness.
I was waiting for her to invite me in and pour me a nice cold glass of fresh squeezed lemonade and we could sit and chat in her gazebo in the garden.
Or take a picnic in the park with her BFF Snow White.
Doubt if she's even heard of "Clutch" or "Rob Zombie."
I'm positive my SIL hates her.
I see bad times ahead for my Goth loving, long haired child and her.
I have to admit, I wasn't prepared. It threw me back a few steps. I wanted to go back and say something rude like "Yah my kids get it from their mother" or "I'm glad my kids are good for you, how's my husband been acting?"
I was just stunned that the STBX would be with someone like that. And then I thought about it for a moment and decided that indeed they were two peas in a pod. Only swimming in the kiddy pool.
She may be thinner... but I guarantee I'm having way better sex!!

Single?

2006-06-22T15:23:00.000-04:00

I had a date last night. Yup, met this hottie at the mall and we had dinner together and did some shopping. We had a great time. I think I'll move in with him. Oh, wait...I already did that last month.

I met SLJ after work for an official date. We went to this local Stir-Fry Grill where you mix up your own concoction of stir-fry and then pass it off to the grill to be cooked. It's fun. The first time I had went there was with Andi and I think I hated it. I think I didn't like it because it was too much work for a meal. I've been back several times since and it has grown on me. I knew SLJ would like it because he likes to experiment w/ foods. He was overwhelmed at first. Out of his comfort zone. But I was nice and walked him through it. Poor guy gets overwhelmed looking at a chinese menu, I knew he'd be anxious over the stir-fry buffet.

We talked about our first few dates with each other and laughed a lot. It seems like years ago and in reality it was only about 5 months ago. On our first date he didn't even try to hold my hand or kiss me. He says that I was too scary. Who whittle ole me? Scary? Aw. The fact that he didn't try to hold my hand or kiss me goodnight until our third date was the very reason I knew he was going to be mine. He was different. And he was truly good.

For anyone that has ever been on blind dates, seen "Must Love Dogs", read Danielle Steels novel "Dating Game", or are thinking about getting back into the dating field, then this is dedicated to you! Know that you are not alone. Train Wrecks are not prejudice. They happen to all of us.

I don't have much experience in the dating field, but I did learn a few valuable lessons. Of course it wasn't pleasant at the time, but now I can sit back and laugh about it. What a disaster.

(Names have been changed to protect the players.)

Player numero uno, shall we call him "GayBoy"? (Why not, that's sure to piss him off. But he deserves it. Shake your head yes "GayBoy." You must agree that you deserve it.)Anyways, I had actually known GB for a while. His sexuality was always in question by his peers, but then again, whose isn't. I thought nothing of it. One night I was out with my friends at my favorite dance club (that happens to be notorious for homosexuality, tranies and swingers) and who did I happen to run into but GB. The first thing out of his mouth was, and I quote, "I'm not gay." Should've sent the sirens off right there, but I was lonely and I really didn't care. So GB and I actually caught up on old times and started "dating." The whole time we "dated" I wanted to classify the arrangement. Were we boyfriend/girlfriend? Were we friends w/ benefits? Were we exclusive? The answers I got back went something like this..."We're having a good time right? We don't need to label anything. We're friends. No I'm not seeing anyone else currently. I don't date for sport. You're a great woman and a great mother" and so on and so forth. GB and I hung out for a few months. We really did have a lot of fun. He made me laugh constantly. GB was a funny guy. I knew I wasn't going to marry GB, but I did like spending time with him and thought fondly of him. Then somewhere around the 3 month mark, my eyes started opening. GB didn't have a steady job. GB had been in jail for assault (that he swore his innocense on.) GB had six bars of smelly good flowery soap in his shower. GB would get up and go to the restroom when the check came. GB had his attorney on speed dial. GB openly lied to his "friends" when it was in his best interest. GB was always on his god damned cell phone. GB had some questionable conduct. GB had "been with" several people. And the list goes on. On his behalf, GB was somewhat honest with me. He was a fun guy and introduced me to a few new ideas. He helped me with my self esteem and made me realize that I am a great mother.

So what went wrong? Well, I was trying to set up one of my work associates with one of GB's work associates which totally backfired on me and ended with my work associate set up with GB. How that happened right in front of my face, I'm totally not sure and no longer care. Our "relationship" ended tragically and I was pretty messed up after it did end. I found myself alone again and rejected not once, but twice. I had been deceived by my work associate and by GB. And I had to attend my company Christmas party stag. I was already still reeling from my separation w/ the STBX when GB announced that he didn't think I had "both feet planted firmly on the ground" and that I was "playing a victim." Hard blow. It was truly ugly. Now I look back at it, grateful for the fun times and laughter in a very low moment in my life. Grateful for the work GB had done on my vehicle fairly inexpensively. And grateful for what I learned and that was: the fact that I am a beautiful woman. I am a great mother. To trust my instincts. That I don't have to settle. That men w/ six bars of smelly good, flowery soap make better friends than boyfriends. And I can bounce back.

Player numero dos. Lets call him Brown. I still adore Brown. Brown was nice looking, financially together, had a great network of friends and was very nice to me. The bad thing about Brown was that he was a drama king, was still stuck on his old girlfriend. Brown was actually only two official "dates" and a few long phone conversations (all about his ex girlfriend). Brown is still a decent guy and I hope the best for him, but I was able to look clearly at that picture and clearly knew it wasn't for me. I was a couple of months out of the "relationship" w/ GB and had bounced back with new lessons so I was totally more than capable of handling Brown and whatever that was or wasn't. The funny thing about Brown though...he actually said I needed to be around the dating block longer. I needed a few more rejections on my belt. Yah. Ok. As if the STBX and GB hadn't taught me how to swim with the sharks. I pretty much rolled my eyes and moved on. I didn't need a relationship coach. I kinda got my first clue when I brought over a bottle of wine and Brown had to search his entire kitchen from top to bottom for wine glasses. Brown was still a little boy in big boy britches.

Player numero tres. I don't even want to go here... but I will only if to steer someone else far away from his type. Numero tres was my first date through the dating site. I was pretty excited. Numero tres looked really good on the outside. Had a great job, full custody of his child... he seemed to qualify. So we IM'd and spoke on the phone and met for pizza. I should've saw the warning signs when the IM's started getting a little racey. But alas, I was once again alone with nothing else to do. It was new, it was exciting, it was stupid and immature. Numero tres actually wrestled me. Numero tres put me in a head lock on our second date. I was completely astounded. I was wondering if I had been thrust into a time warp and landed in sixth grade again. Were we seriously wrestling. Wow.

I'm totally laughing my ass off right now.

Did I really go through all of those train wrecks? Yes. Yes I did. Dating totally sucks. But yes, it does make for good story telling.

And it does make you appreciate the SLJ's in the world. I would go through all of that again if it led me to my SLJ!! My SLJ who was too scared too kiss me good night until our third date.

My dating advise:
1. Trust your instincts. If he has quite the feminine flair and makes you question his sexuality... move on.
2. Never set your work associates up on blind dates or double dates. It's a bad, bad idea. Nothing good about it.
3. If your date gets up and goes to the bathroom when the check arrives...move on.
4. If you've specifically said that you'd bring the wine and your date is standing on top of his dryer scouring the cabinets for wine glasses...move on.
5. If your date talks about his ex the whole night...move on.
6. If your date starts giving you dating advise and coaching you on relationships...move on.
7. If your date puts you in a headlock or wants to arm wrestle...move on.
8. If you hear phrases like, "We're having fun aren't we?" or "Let's not label things"... get out quick.
9. Do not sacrifice your morals just to spend one less night alone.
10. Do not settle for anything less than what you want or what you deserve. Just don't. See the whole picture and if it's not what you had in mind... move on.

I'm not saying I'm a dating expert now because I dated a few men. I'm just telling my story and letting you know that we all cry over the train wrecks and that in the end, it seems to be really worth it. Swimming with the sharks seems to get you one hell of a nice catch.

And provides material for a funny story.

True love

2006-06-21T15:30:00.000-04:00

I'm reading a Daniel Steel novel which has ignited a little memory. (Actually a lot of memories, but this one is one I'm willing to share in honor of my babies.)Baby one. I'm trying to remember if I was scared or not. Going into it I felt pretty prepared. I chose not to take La Maze. Breathing like that just seemed silly. I was 17 what did I know? My contractions started as I was lying in bed trying to sleep. I knew this was it. I couldn't get comfortable, I wasn't sleeping, the contractions were pretty regular. I knew the baby one was coming and I was prepared. The nursery was ready. All the little onsies were folded neatly in drawers. My overnight bag was packed and waiting. I got out of bed and began packing a bag for the STBX while he slept soundly. I packed an apple and some money for him. I laid on the couch and started timing my contractions. When they were about 5 minutes apart and still mildly bearable, I called my doctors office and made arrangements to head to the hospital. I woke the STBX up and handed him a change of clothes. Within minutes we were off to welcome our little family. We had to stop at the gas station on the way (some of us were more prepared than others) and by time the STBX came out with the lottery numbers I was ready to get on with the show. I made it clear that I wasn't interested in the lottery numbers and that I was indeed interested in getting to the hospital and having this child. I was all prepared to walk around and get the labor started. I was prepared with books and a tennis ball for my back. Jesus was that all a joke. You want me to move? WTF? All I could do was lay there and pray that this pain would stop soon. Little did I know I had six more hours to go complete with vomitting and severe muscle spasms in my thighs. Sharp, intense, OMG this is the worst pain I ever felt contractions, that seized my entire body every minute. Yes, every minute like clockwork. Upon each contraction I would squeeze the STBX's hand. I wanted to scream at him and tell him I hated him very much for doing this to me, but instead, I told him I loved him. Each contraction he got a half assed "I love you." I wasn't terrified until a point where baby one had dropped down into the canal and the monitor no longer picked up his heartbeat. The stupid nurse said "oh, we lost him." I can imagine the horrified look I gave her because she instantly said, "Just his heartbeat, he moved down, it's okay." I couldn't strangled her for terrifying me like that. It was just me and the STBX. I opted for no other family, I am not one who likes a lot of people around when I'm in pain. Just let me be. I also thought it would be nice just the two of us. I pictured the occasion a lot differently than what it went down. It wasn't romantic or emotional for the STBX like I thought it might've been. But there is the fact that I had just puked all over myself and let my bowels go on the birthing table, so it's pretty hard to be in love and rapture by someone who still has chunks on her gown. No matter, I was still able to be totally in love and rapture by this tiny little man that I could only imagine for the last nine months. After 3 hard pushes, here was this little prince charming that rode in on a white horse. I had never felt love like that.I have to admit though that I wasn't a very comfortable mother. Sure, things do come naturally and I did what needed done, but I wasn't into holding my baby for hours on end. I just didn't know how to be a new mother. It actually took a few years before I felt like his mother and not some stupid teenaged babysitter. I think back now and that little prince charming and I went through some pretty tough times together. Of course he was oblivious to it all. I counted on that little man to help me make it through and he did a fine job. He's now my charming eleven year old who makes me laugh constantly and never refuses my affection in public.
Baby two. The contractions started in Lowes hardware store earlier in the day. Yup, prince charming number two was riding in that night. I wasn't scared at all. After all, all the experts say that on baby two you could expect to cut your labor time and intensity in half. Ha. I didn't think that was a very funny joke after eleven hours of labor. I went into the hospital with contractions a minute apart. 60 seconds isn't long to regain composure. My cervix seemed to be stuck. I wasn't dialating. I kept refusing pain meds because I knew they would wear off quickly. I was glad to see my FIL show up as to keep the STBX occupied. I didn't want him near me this time. I was doing this one completely on my own. I didn't need a hand to squeeze. All I can remember saying is, "I forgot how bad this hurt." Finally, I got some meds to move the labor along. I had a very sweet student nurse who took great care of me. This was to be her first labor and delivery. Again, just a few pushes and viola, prince charming number two entered my world and made me fall in love again. He looked just like prince charming number one. I just couldn't get over the resemblance. I also remember that right after I had delivered number two, another STBMother down the hall crying and screaming. A few tears fell from my eyes because I had just been in her shoes and I wanted to hug her and tell her it would be over soon. Be strong baby girl, we're all pulling for you. I remember little man number one coming to see the latest addition that evening. He could've cared less. Who was this bundle of blankets and what am I supposed to do with him. It was like he didn't exist for the first few months. Little brother who?I was a better mother with prince charming two. I sat with him for hours. I craddled him like a little peanut. It was all just different and I expect it had something to do with my age. Yet still, I was a mere 20 years old. Little man number two was colicy though. He liked to cry all day and forced me to hide my head under the pillow several times. Having a newborn is very hard work. Very hard work. It's exhausting. And I wanted to throw daggers at the MIL and the STBX when they said something derogatory about me not being dressed and showered by 10 a.m. I didn't see their asses rocking the baby back to sleep in the middle of the night. Nope. I clearly remember being in the nursery alone at those hours.
My labor and deliveries were miracles. Nothing can ever take those memories away. My little prince charmings riding in on their white horses to rescue the damsel in distress. What perfect little men they are now. One day, when they witness the births of their own children, they just might understand how much I truly love them. True, unconditional love at it's finest.

Pictures, Dishes and Ghosts

2006-06-19T11:56:00.000-04:00

I couldn't stop starring at the damn wall. You see, I had several framed snapshots to hang somewhere. Pics of the kids in their Halloween costumes. Several pics w/ toothless grins and tongues out. Pics of me in the hospital holding my newborn. Pics of kids buried in the sand up to their ears. And one very special large pic that Andi gave me as a present last year way back in 05' before the great move. A very special Yak-Yak pic that she blew up and framed. I've had that pic for over a year now and it never had it's own space on the wall. That is, until now.So I can sit at the kitchen table and look into the other room and see my arrangement of special pictures outlined by the arched doorway in that room. I just couldn't stop starring at the arrangement. It was just another special moment for me as I'm settling into my new life. A perfect place for my Yak-Yak pic that didn't have a place.

The thing that I just can't get over is how generous SLJ is with his space. I worry that I'm "taking over." I worry that one day he'll wake-up, glance around and ask himself what the hell happened to his house. I'm constantly asking him if this or that is okay. And his response is "Do whatever you want. Change whatever you want. As long as I have you, it doesn't matter." He's unbelievable. I even get to remodel the kitchen around my Goodwill antique Mikasa dishes. I know I've told the story of my Goodwill find, but I'll tell it again. Shortly after the STBX and I separated, I started purchasing things that I knew I would need living on my own. I started replacing the things that I had left behind to the STBX. I needed a set of dishes. As I was driving home from work one day I had this "instict" to stop at the Goodwill store and check out the dishes. I walk in to find this complete set of brown and black, scroll work design Mikasa dishes. I was instantly in love with these dishes! I bought the entire set for $20. After I did a little research I found that my entire set is worth around $300. A true find. So I made plans that in my new place I would totally design my kitchen around this set of dishes that I'm in love with. So these dishes were stored in a box for the 10 months I lived with my parents. Once in a while I would unwrap a bowl just to take a peek. Last night SLJ and I talked about the plans to re-do the kitchen. Bye-bye apples, hello Mikasa my love.

I had a complete break down Saturday morning. Not entirely sure what happened, but I'm guessing that what triggered it was SLJ saying something that he'd lost a few lbs. SLJ comes from the same background as I do. Both of us married to people who ripped us apart about our bodies. SLJ has lost a ton of weight since his X. I lost 20 lbs. for my X. We are both very sensitive about our weight. Products of cruel, shallow people. Even though SLJ and I totally dig each others body, we still remain somewhat sensitive. SLJ just said something about him losing a few lbs. and I think I felt a thing apart. I crawled into that little familiar shallow world where my weight matters and it angered me. I went back up to bed and thought about staying there. First I had to figure out why I was crying. So I reviewed my few minutes of the morning and when I came to weight, the tears started flowing. There it was. So SLJ held me for a few minutes, told me I was beautiful, said we should go to the nursery and get some dirt and plants to play with. (He knows I love dirt.) It was still a struggle to want to get out of the bed, but I went. And then as soon as we got back home I crawled back into bed and SLJ played in the dirt by himself. I slept off the breakdown. A couple hours later I was better. Man, that's exhausting hunting down old ghosts and getting rid of them. Whew. I get scared in these situations. I instantly think that I've fell into an abyss again. Just the thought scares me. But then I realize that I'm going to have some tough days. I've been through a hell of a lot in the last year. Major life changes, and I'm going to have some not so good days with those old ghosts. True to form, I always come out swinging.

Things I'm looking forward to:
There's a wedding with SLJ's family this coming weekend. I have a strict no weddings, no funerals rule. Broke both of them this month. I'm actually excited about this wedding though. His family is fun and I'm enjoying getting to know them.

We have to be home by 9:00 though because the finale to "Ultimate Fighter" is on. Of course it would be on at the same time as "Guests of the Ayatollah." Go figure. So I'm recording Guests and watching UF. (Yes, my interests vary. We'll just say that I'm "well rounded." Or crazy. Crazy works too.)

I also get my babies back this coming weekend. The STBX got them earlier and for an extended amt. of time because The MIL is in town and it was Fathers Day and because I'm nice like that. He wanted them for 3 weeks...I'm not that nice. He got them for 10 days. I need my babies.

But I will enjoy my alone time with SLJ this week...

Making a connection

2006-06-14T13:40:00.000-04:00

I often start an entry only to delete what I wrote. I get halfway into it and then, blah, not feeling it anymore. I think about this blog community often. Pretty much daily. I think of how I got hooked and how things have changed and progressed from there. The blog thing perplexes me, but brings me great joy at the same time. I often wonder... why do I blog? Do I use this space as my very own journal? To get my feelings out or to try and organize my thoughts into something of my very own. Do I use this space for creative writing? To keep the juices flowing. Do I use this space to entertain? To reach out to an audience.
What I've come to realize, is that I use this space for all of the above. It's mine. I write what I feel often times. I write from my heart and most times I come up with a great ending that even I didn't realize was there. I write to amuse my audience often times. I like the idea of somebody reading me and thinking good thoughts about me. I also use this space to fill that gulf of loneliness. This is why sometimes I get a little anxious when I have no commenters. (Except Andi, she is my number one freind. I like to read what's on other peoples minds too. But, I think most of all I am here because I have friends here. Here is where I can go, any time of day, to find you. You, the open heart and open ear. I use this space to feel connected. I fit here. I can say whatever it is I want to say and you won't leave me. You are always here.
This space has been here for me through a lot. When I first started blogging in AOL, I was depressed. I was crawling hands and knees out of an abyss that I had been in for two years. This space has been here for me on the lonely days at work and lonely days after separation. This space continues to be here for me through separation and through new found life.
Through this space I stay connected. Andi is so very far away, but through this space I feel like I talk to her and see her often. Through this space I have found some pretty amazing people. People I have never met, but feel like I've known forever. I picture Kris sitting at her desk at work in her hooker boots, drinking bad coffee and giving her boss a hard time. I see Andi walking home from work in her Mary Janes making coo-coo noises to the little Joseys of the world. I see Chuck talking to his bird, drinking his tea and reading some thick ass book on something that would totally warp my brain by someone whose name I can't even pronounce. I see James sitting in his unmade bed w/ his laptop on his lap typing this fabulous story and glancing at the clock every now and then contemplating what time it is in Indiana. Hee. I see Stephanie giving BJ's, I mean going to BJ's and trying on sunglasses. I see Amy in her beautiful birthday suit wondering what word to place in her new poem next. (I MISS YOU AMY)
My mind just kinda skips to the map and places people in their spot. Cali, Nevada, Maryland, Washington, New Mexico. I often wonder what kind of flowers you all have that I can't grow here. What colors you see when you look out your own windows.
I sit here in my lonely space at work. Holding silent conversation with myself all day long. Drinking my coffee from a travel mug. Watching the clock. Waiting to pick up my kids from my friends house after work. Traveling the highway and through amish country home. Waiting to make dinner for my SLJ. Waiting to wrap my arms around him and kiss the dog attack scars on his arm. Our house is an old train station. I have my great grandfathers adding machine on the end table in the living room. We have green bedroom walls and bamboo shades. Above the shades hang a wrought iron bar wrapped lazily in a creamy wrinkly silk fabric. I have my Picasso Gaurnica print above the TV. My six pound boston curled in my lap. Wondering if everyone is as disfunctional and crazy as I am. These are the things I wonder about you. How are we different or similar and why do I care so much for people I don't even know? Will I ever meet you?

This is my connection to a space where I am always found, always free and never alone.

Spring in the village

2006-06-13T12:33:00.000-04:00

I feel things deeply. Characteristic of a pisces. And I'm PMSing, which makes for a terrible combination.
There is a season to remember and appreciate life. This is that season for me.

One of my friends dad died a couple of days ago. I felt her pain and loss. I wish I could do more. Thanks to Chuck for referencing "The Prophet" where I found words of peace about death.

"Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb. And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance."

I watched a Discovery channel special on the 2004 Tsunami the other night. Parts of a video where I gasped and my heart felt heavy in my chest. Oh my God.

Today, one of my friends told me his 17 year old daughter was pregnant. I felt that very deeply. Memories flooded my head and my heart sank. But I was able to promise him that everything would be okay.

There are many things about being a 17 year old mother that very few people truly understand. And it can't be explained. You truly walk alone. There is a very instant in time, a nano-second, where you become something different.

I'm thinking back on all the strife and pain that surrounded my 17 year old self. Tons of episodes that flash before my mind. And then I think of recent mornings with my children. Almost 12 years later and here we are: Listening to BEP's and The Killers together. Grossing out the 11 yr. old when I try to educate him on menstration. Sitting in their bedroom putting those damn Imaginext together. Letting my 11 year old grow his hair. Watching them zip around on the
4-wheeler w/ SLJ. Hitting a few golf balls out in the yard. Washing and folding their clothes and arguing about who gets in the shower first.

Point is, life happens and in the end, everything is just how it should be. There is strength and beauty in pain and sorrow.
This is why I laugh when people ask me what my "5 year plan" is.
As if I can control the seasons in my village. I just serve the coffee with a smile.

writing promt

2006-06-06T17:00:00.000-04:00

I'm trying to recall memories. A writing promt. Cause I've deleted several almost entries.

There was this girl in jr. high/middle school who stole my boyfriend Brad. Her name was Nikki. I very much disliked her, but being the Pisces I am... I never made waves. But that's what friends are for right? My best friend Ten, had my back on this one.
Nikki was on the basketball team. Ten and myself were the "basketball assistants." We did things like wash uniforms, get the balls out, keep score, give water bottles etc... We were Water Girls. But mostly we just sat at the edge of the court and made fun of everyone.

Well, Nikki shows up at basketball practice with a black eye. Cool. Wish it had been from me. During practice she asks Ten and myself to go get her a cool wet cloth for her swolen eye. How dare her. So Ten and I go to the locker room where Ten proceeds to get a towel, dip it in the nice cold toilet water. We walked out of the locker room and handed Nikki her nice, cool towel for her big, black, swolen eye (that I should've gave her.) What an evil genius, I swear. All through High School we dubbed her "Pee water."

I could've really used Ten while dealing with the STBX. It's okay, I did take a few notes back then and have put into play a few minor acts of unkindness. Nothing really all that cool like Pee Water, but unkind just the same. Cause we all know, it's the small things that count. Winka.

Why the woman smiled at the mirror

2006-06-01T14:37:00.000-04:00

She wanted to feel sexy and beautiful
She looked in the mirror only to find her own form starring back
All she could see was the imperfections
Pale skin
Stretch marks
Cellulite
Pimples
Heat rash
So she closed her eyes for a moment and tried to picture what it was he saw
She opened her eyes slowly
Smiled kindly at the woman in the mirror
Confidently walked away from it
And became that beautiful woman he sees

She is not beautiful because he says she's beautiful
She is beautiful because she is beautiful

But his unconditional love wraps her in a warmth that she has never felt
And she thanks him for that

Never a dull moment

2006-05-30T16:45:00.000-04:00

I need another long weekend for the long weekend I just had. If I had to pick one actress to portray me in a biography... I'm thinking I'd go with Rene Zellweger in Bridgett Jones style.

Bugger.

Friday I picked up my kids from the STBX's office, dropped them off to spend the morning with their Nana and my neices. I spent Friday morning and afternoon getting the rest of our furniture and toys out of "the STBX's house" (still legally my house too.) I had tried to make the STBX a trade offer on the furniture. I offered him two new dressers and the kitchen table & chairs in exchange for my kids bed frames and mattresses. He didn't take the offer so I was going to have to buy new beds for the kids. I was kind of panicking because funds are low, but I knew something would come thru. Indeed something did. The STBX's aunt and my mother are friends. My mother mentioned I needed beds and the STBX's aunt said she had two twin beds mattresses and all that I could have for free. So not only do I still have the dressers and kitchen table but now I have two free beds as well. Interesting how things always work out in my favor.I wasn't really very excited about being at my house (the STBX's house) again, but I was suprised to find that it didn't really bother me so much. I have detached myself so much from that house and home that it didn't even seem familiar anymore. I was a bit apprehensive... I just wanted to get our stuff and get out and that's exactly what I did. Now there is nothing that ties me to that house except my name on the mortgage and title.I loaded the kids up on sugar and took them back to the STBX's office. (What was that kids? You want a can of Mt.Dew and a chocolate float from the chocolatery? Not a problem! Drink up.) I think I even smiled at STBX and waved as I drove out of the parking lot. "Bye asshole, have fun taking the kids to the grocery store after work!"

Yes, yes I did.

I also went down to the station and filed a police report on those stolen items out of my storage unit. My homeowners policy will cover it, so I decided it was probably the thing to do.

Saturday my day was spent moving everything of ours from my parents house to SLJ's house (my new home.) A friend of mine got one of those 26 foot race car hauler trailer that we jam packed and trekked across state line to my new home. I warned SLJ that I had a lot of stuff. I did not lie. Let's just say that his garage and exercise room and the whole upstairs is in chaos. Furniture, boxes and clothes everywhere! I've been on my own for twelve years. Between me and my kids, we've accumulated a lot of stuff. I even took 4 or 5 bags to the Goodwill. I even gave some things to my mom. I just have a lot of stuff and having it all in one location is challenging now. But SLJ is being a good sport and working hard at finding a place for everything.

We ended our moving day by watching the Gracie vs. Hughes fight on pay per view. Ah, that was a good one. I'm fairly new to the UFC, so it was a toss up for me. I was happy to see Hughes buy the house and kick Gracie out of it. I've always been a boxing fan, but this UFC stuff is so cool. I'm diggin it.

Sunday I sent SLJ to the gas station for fuel to fill the lawn mower. I like to mow. I like to push mow to be exact. It's exercise, art and therapy all at the same time. Anyways, SLJ came back w/ fuel and a cigar. I just stared at him and asked where mine was. He looked at me sideways and asked, "Have you even smoked a cigar before." I looked at him, like duh, and replied, "a couple of times. Last time, I shared it with a stripper." He chuckled, then realized I was serious and said, "when was that?" And of course my answer was "on my 25th birthday." Like duh. So I had to give him the run down on how I was celebrating my birthday at a strip club, right after I got my tattoo, the stripper just finished giving the STBX a lap dance, then came over and shared my cigar with me. SLJ blinked a couple of times and lit his cigar and said "I love you 'Crazy.'"It would make a better story if I could remember her name. Let's call her Cher shall we. Sorry, I forgot to get her last name. It was just one night. Give me a break.

So yah, Sunday after mowing SLJ loaded the 4-wheeler (some folks like to call it just plain 'wheeler') up on the trailer and drug it over to "NASCAR Joes" house for the race party (His son's name is Dale. Imagine that.) We jumped on the wheeler and hit the trails behind Nascar Joes house. It was just a wee bit soupy out there. Covered in mud from head to toe we were. I have a sunburn around my mud spots. Makes for an interesting complexion. At one point I asked SLJ to pull over so that I could drive. He willingly jumped on the back and off we went. Oopsy, that was quite a jump there. Had to make sure SLJ was hanging on. NASCAR Joe saw me heading towards the jump and thought "Oh boy, hope SLJ is hanging on. Hang on, hang on, hang on... oh she nearly lost him there. Whew."We all survived the trails, no injuries unless you count mud in my panties an injury. (It's just like sand, it finds it's way into those sunless areas.)

Monday, Memorial Day, SLJ and I got up early and went to "the STBX's house" to pick up my kids. We took them to the lake and spent the day swimming, fishing, boating and grilling. The kids had a great time. Just for the record, I caught the most fish. Lure? Why would I need a lure if I have a bobber and worm? We call this "Old School Fishing." Dis my house. I built dis house.

Last year I bought my first bikini. I wore it once. The weekend I left the STBX in fact. I went to a public beach and I got some sun on my belly. I had some self esteem issues. I have had two kids, I didn't think I had any business in a bikini. So I put the bikini back on to wear to the lake yesterday. The look on SLJ's face was priceless. Let's just say that I've never felt that confident in a swim suit before. SLJ has a way of making me feel like I'm the only woman on the planet. Carmen Electra could've been nude on that sand bar and SLJ wouldn't have noticed. He was too busy making my head swell. He is one talented lover boy and I am so fortunate. I know I don't have a perfect body, but this is the suit I live in and I think I'll be grateful for it. Yanno.

So it was a long, active, sweaty weekend and it leaves me wondering, with a smile on my face...whatever happened to those days not so long ago when I was striving to find something to fill my time. Ebb and Flow. This is life.

I was thinking back on a few things last night. I've had an interesting life. I've had some pretty tragic episodes. Things have happened to me that should never happen to anyone. I have constantly struggled to keep my head above but somehow I just always have. The key, maybe, is to swim naked, makes for a better story. Which brings me to yet another fond memory that maybe I'll save for some other entry.

Dancer out.

Belly laugh

2006-05-24T15:01:00.000-04:00

Usually, I'm the only person that I can crack up.
Sometimes I'll just die laughing because I think I just thought of something hilarious, but then when I try to say that hilariousness out loud, it never works.
I get blank stares and "Cricket...Cricket...Cricket."

SLJ and I are both very fond of gummy worms. It's one of our favorites. So I bought two bags of gummy worms at the store and text messaged him "I have gummy worms!!"Evidentally, at the time he received my text msg. His phone was laying on a table at work and the guys wanted to know what his girlfriend (that'd be me) had messaged. So he told them. Which of course, has them all puzzled. Apparently they wanted to hear something juicy. They think we have something kinky going on involving gummy worms now. So of course I play along.

Yesterday, I text SLJ, knowing he was sitting in the office, "I dare you to say 'Gummy Worm Sanchez' out loud." He did and only one of his co-workers got it. One guy laughing and the rest, Cricket...Cricket...Cricket.

Um...what planet has everyone just flown in from...has no one watched Deuce Bigalow?
Has no one heard of a "Dirty Sanchez?"
I mean "For Real."
"Man-Ho" anyone?
No?
I suppose when I scream "Emilio!" you don't get that either...
So yes, once again my funny inside joke was a bust.
I think I'm funny.
As long as I make myself double over in laughter, I guess that's what really matters huh?

Why Morelli is Morelli

2006-05-24T13:06:00.000-04:00

I have this really good guy friend, Morelli. Morelli is a flat out hottie. He is absolutely one of the greatest men I know, and I only know a couple. This is why Morelli is Morelli:

Morelli tells me about this episode that happened at the hardware store the other day. He had gone in for some paint. He's standing at the paint counter w/ the clerk mixing his paint, when an obese woman walks by. The clerk makes a derogatory comment about how he can't stand obese women like that and blah, blah, blah, fat, fat, fat - apparently a whole one sided conversation on thin women and fat women.
Morelli stands there and waits for his paint. When the clerk finally hands him his mixed paint, Morelli looks at him and says "Well, at least that woman still has her own hair." He winks at the clerk and walks away. (Apparently the clerk had a bad toupee.)

That's my Morelli!

Okay, I get it. Nuff said.

2006-05-23T09:37:00.000-04:00

My fifth grader graduated elementary school last night. I didn't cry. I'm cried out. He made me laugh a few times though. Seems like they had to create a power point slide of/about themselves to show as the audience was arriving and being seated. (Hi my name is _____ ______, my favorite school memory is ______ . And their fifth grade picture pasted in.) MY SON chose to be the clown. (Imagine that) His power point wasn't legible because his words and picture were gravitating all over the slide at warp speed Mr. Sulu. Made the audience chuckle. Yes, that's MY kid, who never takes life too seriously.

And then he told his father that he didn't need to dress up. So he graduated in his t-shirt and ripped/faded jeans. Classic. Even AFTER I told him that morning to make sure he dressed-up a little. For pulling one over on his father, I think he might be getting that long over due hair cut he so dreads. Let's just say his father wasn't happy. I could hear the buzz of the hair clippers as we walked out.

Then, after the ceremony, he brought his "class carnation" over to myself and my mother. Split it in half and gave me the flower end and my mother the stem. Yes, this is the child I have raised. Why am I smiling?

In other news, I'm officially living w/ SLJ as of last night!! I stopped at the store for a bottle of wine, then drove thru amish country on my way HOME. I passed a church sign that read "God is your refuge." I smiled. Yes, I saw it. Yes, I'm paying attention. (The sign read differently on my way thru this morning. Weird.)

Then thru amish country on my way HOME, I passed several horses in the pastures and a total of FIVE colts. I even got to see one of the colts run across the pasture as I drove by. I giggled like a little girl.

I may have lost a lot over the last year, but what I have gained is so much more valuable. It's all okay.

Material

2006-05-21T20:02:00.000-04:00

It's really hard to let go of things. Material possessions have a way of locking on. I've lost a few things lately. Nostalgic childhood possessions stolen from me.
Those 70's DC Comic mirrors that belonged to us as kids. Always reminded me of running around in our Super hero underoos.
That highschool newspaper with my pregnant self on the front cover.
My childrens babybooks.
Katie and Tabs death announcements.

These are among a few things that were stolen from me. How do I get over that?

I don't understand, especially when there are things I have that I don't know what to do with...
An antique wedding gown.
A diamond engagement ring.
A wedding band.
A 16x20 family picture.
A VHS tape of my wedding.

I just don't understand material possesions. Why couldn't those things have been stolen?

I'm sure there is... ah... I get it. Never mind... lets see... has she really learned to let "things" go.

I can sit here and chronicle all of the things I've lost in the last year but I won't. Several things that have been really hard to let go of. Things given up by choices made, and things stolen, ripped from my life never to be seen again. A lesson in refuge. A lesson in being grateful for what you have. A lesson in knowing what really matters.

Purging

2006-05-16T15:32:00.000-04:00

Just taking care of business, taking out the trash, pulling out the big guns, showing what this mama's made of, making little boys cry for mercy, pisces decided to swim upstream this time instead of going with the flow, showing someone in particular just how deep that ocean is and just how vicious those sharks are...

More to follow at a later date. I thank thee for thy support!

"Breaking my back just to know your name, 17 tracks and I've had it w/ this game, somebody told me...." - dancer dancing naked still hands untied.

I take it backeth

2006-05-15T11:37:00.000-04:00

Okay, I take it back...the STBX is a complete moron! I hate him. I do.
The line in the sand has been drawn and he crossed it.
Game over. You lose moron.

I just don't have the time or energy for a rant. I'll save it for my attorney.

ps... has anyone ever had a full blown back spasm? I spent Thursday night in the ER with tears in my eyes because I thought my back was going to deliver a freakin' baby! Holy chit that hurt.
I am for IV. I am for anti-inflammatories and pain meds instantly! Pee in a cup, SURE! Take all the blood you freakin want... JUST MAKE THIS PAIN STOP!
I have delivered two babies naturally and this was pretty darn close to that!
All better now. Must make arrangements w/ my massagist (can't spell ma suse and the spellcheck is no help .)

2006-05-08T12:12:00.000-04:00

What a beautiful weekend it was. The weather was just gorgeous! I had such positive enthusiasm last week. It was amazing.

I worked hard on my business venture last week. Writing the plan. The words were just flowing. Amazing inspirations and motivation. The research just made sense and clicked. I felt very empowered.In doing the research, I also educated myself on a few things. My research brought me back to the earth, making me feel a part of the one big world. Reminded me of my substance and purpose.

I also survived two doctors appointments last week. With shaking hands, I faced down another demon. My fear brought out the kindest eyes in my doctor. He has been my doctor for 12 years now and never have I seen such caring bedside manner. The weirdest part was the nurse. I didn't say anything, but I think she was the same exact nurse who witnessed her first birth when I delivered my youngest son 8 years ago. I'm positive that was her. Interesting how we were united like that. I remember her excitement 8 years ago when she was witnessing a miracle. I was excited to give her that experience. And amazed that it took 8 years for us to come back around in a time where I was fearful. Karma.

The STBX and I had a few telephone conversations last week. A couple things about the kids and a couple things about the divorce. What was absolutely amazing is that we were actually friendly and civil and listened and agreed. That's a big step. The anger and bitterness has lifted. On a side note: we should be signing papers this week or next. Everything is pretty well agreed upon. Moving on.

SLJ, my parents and myself moved some of my furniture out of storage and into my new home (SLJ's house). We got to my storage unit to find the dead bolt missing. Gone. I was panicking to raise the door. Hoping my stuff was still there. Relieved to find most of it still there. Someone had cut the dead bolt. Someone had invaded and stole. Andi, they stole my elliptical machine. That seems to be all they took. I'm trying to recall what else might be missing, but I think that's all they took. I'm puzzled. I had to deal with the "loss of security" feeling. That feeling like my space had been invaded and disrespected. I hate that feeling. It's the same feeling that I had in highschool when my car was broke into. The same feeling I had when DK threatened me on the phone. I abhore that feeling. It didn't stop me from totally loving the fact that I had my couch back. I cuddled up and fell asleep on it while SLJ arranged his house to welcome my long lost stuff. It's been almost 10 months without my old stuff around me. It was a good feeling. I was looking forward to getting back on that elliptical machine too, but this morning I decided to flip the "perspective switch" and realize that it was time for the machine to be passed on. Andi empowered herself and worked her knees to death on it before her surgeries. She then passed it on to me when I started my weight loss adventure last year during the whole "STBX looks matter crisis." I empowered myself, got my heart rate up, lost a few pounds. And now, hopefully, someone else will benefit from the karma of the machine and empower themselves. I can let go of it knowing that maybe someone is using it to fight their cholesterol or heart disease. It wasn't the object that I missed. It was the connection and I still have that. No one can take that away.

I also dug in the dirt and planted some geraniums at SLJ's house. We both did. Together. The dirt felt good on my hands. We had some good laughs and jokes together while we planted. It was small, but very huge. He got a peek into how Obsessive/compulsive/anal I can be. I swear I was just joking when I told him he wasn't doing it right. Har. It feels good to laugh again.

Up ahead, there are some more moving days. Can't wait to have my home together again. SLJ's is such a gracious and welcoming sanctuary. Brings smiles to my face. I'll snap a few pics to share the moment with ya'll.

Colors

2006-05-03T11:18:00.000-04:00

I watched the movie "The Family Stone" last night. I just have to say, what a spectacular, beautiful display of family disfunction. If you haven't seen this movie you are definitely missing something. This is one of those movies you just become a part of. You absorb the characters and their life and it touches something deep inside.Diane Keaton plays the mother in this family, and let me just say, I have never identified better with another mother. She plays this absolutely crazy mother, who wears her heart on her sleeve and that loves her children as part as herself. I love her role.There are so many beautiful scenes in this movie that brought tears to my eyes. Scenes that just seemed to hit home and just seemed to reach in yank out my liver. I had tears pooling throughout most of the film.
There is one scene where the character Thad stops in the doorway and admires his lover Patrick. That look. I've seen that look directed towards me. I cannot tell you the fulfillment that brings a person. One look that assures you that you are completely loved. The tears started rolling when I identified with the significance that look means. I am a very lucky woman to receive that look. I do not take it for granted at all. It fills my heart with such joy and satisfaction. I can't even explain it.
There are a couple of scenes that are just tear jerkers and just clone the exact feeling and picture of true unconditional love between mothers and children.
The dynamics of the Stone family just amazed me. Every single person in that family were perfectly disfunctional but somehow weaved and wound perfectly together to create such a solid family foundation. I think the theme I pulled from this film was, that everyone in the family was embraced and their differences and disfunctions were completely accepted which resulted in one big beautiful cornerstone.
We are all colored by the experiences we have. Not one of us is perfect, but perfectly imperfect. We are products of our own experiences which make us exactly who we are. I regret nothing, and I wouldn't change one experience, good or bad.
I am exactly who I want to be.

Unconditional Love of God

2006-04-27T12:12:00.000-04:00

I strive to know what unconditional love is.
I know first hand what conditional "love" is.
I try very hard to see love and beauty in everything.
I try very hard not to criticize or judge.
But I know there is always a degree that I do.

I hear and see things happen around me everyday,
that for some reason just don't seem right.
Often times these things are indirectly related to me,
but none the less they hurt and anger me.
I take them to heart and weep about their origin.

It is true that I struggle with religion.
I do not, however, struggle with my faith in God.
I struggle with congregations and ideas of man.
I struggle with conformity.
I hardly ever see unconditional love in the masses.
And that is why I segregate myself from religion.

Yesterday, I heard something that crushed my soul.
It came out of the mouth of someone I cherish deeply.
It was a simple statement of a religious rule,
believed to be true to this person
and I'm sure believed to be true by the masses.
It didn't relate to me directly,
but indirectly it still hurt me.
Everybody thinks they hold the answers.
Everybody thinks that their rules are THE rules.
But there was no love in that statement only rejection.
My God loves unconditionally, completely and without complexities or pride.
There is never rejection.

I found a few passages today that spoke to me relating to the statement said.
An excerpt called "The Department of Interior" by Linda Hogan.

Such ridicule is the same kind of thinking that allowed for genocide.A thinking that has no imagination, no place for respect, empathy, or compassion,no love.

We struggle with the brokenness of our bodies and hearts,with hungers never fulfilled,with self destruction in the forms of suicide, alcoholism, and child abuse that is a hatred of what comes from the body.

It is our task, and the work of others, to return to and hold dear the beautiful, flawed, embodied spirit alive in its imperfect matter.

We are in need of an integrity of being that recognizes this disregarded inner world.I mean integrity in the true sense of this world, the sense that addresses a human wholenessand completeness, and entirety of living, with body,land and the human self in relationship with all the rest,and with a love that remembers itself.

If I could've spoke at that moment instead of resenting, this entry is what I wish I would have said.

Strawberries and Pancakes

2006-04-26T14:34:00.000-04:00

It's time to talk about SLJ. I have refrained from "spilling" out of the courtesy of others. Nobody likes the "OMG, I'm going to puke now, I'm in love junk."But alas, I can't hold back any longer. I must spill. I will not apologize either. It's a beautiful thing.

SLJ and I met on an internet dating site.I had just got back from my Casino trip and had decided on a whim to post my profile on a site.That's some scary stuff. It's like jumping into a pool of sharks w/ laser beams."Here I come and eat me!"Interestingly enough, while I was at the Casino, I had the urge and inspiration to bow my head and say a prayer that God would send me my perfect match. I honestly had faith that moment that my prayer would be answered in due time.

SLJ was convinced to join the dating site by his father and his cousin. I was one of his "100% matches" that the service suggested.I was the only one he sent a little message to. I replied.

We emailed back and forth.

Chatted online.

Set up our first date.
We met for dinner after work on a Thursday night.We arrived in the parking lot at the same time.We exited our vehicles at the same time.His first thought was that he "didn't have a chance."My first thought was "He's very nice looking."

He didn't kiss me goodnight. He wanted to, but says I was too "scary" and couldn't get the nerve to do so.And at that moment I knew he was different.

We set up our second "date" a couple of days later.We took my boys out to eat and to a hockey game.He reached over and held my hand.Sparks flew, my body did some kind of convulsion.Just from holding hands.That was a new experience.

We set up our third date. Valentines day.Dinner and a movie.He had sent a bouquet of flowers to my office.The first time I ever had flowers sent to work.We had our first kiss that evening. I liked/like kissing SLJ.Very much.

A few days after that, I stayed over at his house.His home was so comfortable.I just "dropped in" like I belonged there.

I started staying over at his house on the weekends I didn't have my kids.

His family visited to meet "the new girl."

We shopped.
We went out to eat.
We talked a lot.
We hung out.
We craved each others time and comfort.
We still do.

He celebrated my 29th birthday with me. Brought me another bouquet. A dozen red roses.He met some of my closest friends for the first time.He made me cry when he said that he felt like he had already known Layli.Not only was I accepted, but so were the people I loved.SLJ even danced with me.At a gay club.He didn't have one complaint.He just wanted to be where I was.

We had several late night talks during all of this time.I had decided that I would not be the person to say "I love you" first.I just wasn't going to stick my neck out like that.And I didn't have to.All of a sudden one night on the phone SLJ just said it.And I was so relieved.And so filled with joy.Everything was strawberries and pancakes.

SLJ remembers things that I say.He's done little things like switch his laundry detergent to Free/Clear because I have sensitive skin. He bought 3 lilac trees to plant because I said lilacs were my favorite.He understands the need for cookie dough and Hershey bars.He sends me poetry and love songs thru email.He leaves me notes on the table in the morning.And sends me text messages throughout the day.I catch him looking at me. Admiring me. I've never seen that look before.He thinks I'm smart and beautiful.He tells me not to go into the room until he gets rid of the spider.He starts my car on cold mornings.He walks beside me, not ahead of me.He reads my face and knows what my looks mean.He laughs with me all of the time.He's the biggest supporter of my village.Those are just things that make me feel loved.

I have a whole list of the things I love about him.He is the kindest man I have ever met.He has the best laugh and I treasure his perfect smile.He's humble.He's a good father who isn't afraid to show affection to his son.He loves himself and is a happy man.He's smart. He's funny. He's gracious.Yet strong and sexy and totally manly.He's not afraid to talk deeply and not afraid to listen.I've never heard him judge or criticize another person.I'm smiling just sitting here cataloging all of his perfection.He is everything I prayed for in that Casino hotel room.There is not one thing I dislike or doubt.

SLJ and I have been together for such a long time. Maybe not physically, but our hearts have been together for a long time.When I look deep into his eyes, I see a little glimpse of myself in there.I see past, present and future.I see unconditional love that flows naturally.I see the essence of all that is right and good.

That's my SLJ.

That's the beginning of our story.

Strawberries and pancakes.

365

2006-04-25T18:13:00.000-04:00

"The Year of Patience."
It's a Baha'i thing.
Let me explain it a little bit (I am not Bahai, so please forgive any mistakes. This info comes to me second hand from Baha'i friends.)
"The Year of Patience" is basically about not pursuing any new relationships until you've refleced on the marriage, tried to work things out, gained control of self, centered your life around God and faith, learned about self, grieved the relationship if it is ending and have learned the value of self.
Here is an excerpt that I found online about it:
Divorce is strongly condemned in the Bahá’í Teachings. If, 211 however, antipathy or resentment develop between the marriage partners, divorce is permissible after the lapse of one full year. During this year of patience, the husband is obliged to provide for the financial support of his wife and children, and the couple is urged to strive to reconcile their differences. Shoghi Effendi affirms that both the husband and wife “have equal right to ask for divorce” whenever either partner “feels it absolutely essential to do so”.

This, I guess, takes a year.
365 days.
I totally understand the motivation behind such a thing as "The Year of Patience."
It's a "process."
It's also a general rule and guideline for the masses created by, well, man.
Just like any other religious "rule".

But alas I will reflect once more:
I was married to a mysogynist.
When it came down to it, my looks mattered more than who I was inside.
I was not in an unconditional love based marriage.
I reflected and tried my hardest to work things out for 6 months before I left the marriage.
It took us another month to make the final decision of divorce.
We had several discussions with each other in that month on what we wanted and what we felt before we finally decided to end the marriage.
We both jumped into other relationships. I re-formed a friendship (w/ benefits) with someone I have known for 10+ years.
That friendship was not what I thought it was and got ugly quickly.
I grieved that loss of friendship at the same time I was greiving my marriage.
Instead of dwelling on the ugly part, I identified with what I had gained.
I gained empowerment and presentation.
I learned how to give baggage back.
I learned that I am a great mother.
I learned that not everyone is trustworthy.
I learned to trust my instincts, because they are 99.9% right 99.9% of the time.
I learned how to say No and voice my opinion.
I learned all of this from that one relationship.

I had a few (and by a few, I mean 3) dates here and there.
From those dates I gained more knowledge.
I learned not to settle.
I learned how to talk honestly and openly with a man.
I learned that I am most definitely not a prude.
I learned how to identify and cut my losses without feeling rejection or self doubt.
I learned all of that from 3 dates.

I had one person tell me that I need to figure out what I want.
She said that I need to know what it is I like to do on a Saturday morning.
She said I needed to know what color I wanted to paint my bedroom.
Simple things like that, I needed to know before I could move on.
At that moment, I already knew the simple things...
I like to lounge in my PJ's on a Saturday morning, drink my coffee and sit on the porch.
And brown. I want to paint my kitchen brown.
I want purple and red in bathroom.
I want to hang my batik on the wall.
I don't care for steak.
I like Wendys cheeseburgers.
I can do without Ben & Jerrys.
I like chocolate chip cookie dough.
I like thinly sliced cucumbers on my sandwiches.
Point is, I know exactly who I am and I know exactly what I like.
I've already crawled out of that abyss.
Check "know self" off the list.
Not an issue.

I took a little weekend trip to the Casino by myself. Just me and the open road. No direction. Just confidence and peace of mind.I learned that I could indeed be alone and have fun.

The Year of Patience...365 days to process.
It's been 376+ days since my heart was torn to shreds.
It's been 270+ days since I left my marriage.
It's been 120+ days since I've finished greiving the loss.
But who's counting?

I strived to reconcile. 6 months and lots of tears.
I have greived the relationship. Over it. I'm not bitter anymore. I don't even remember him anymore.
I have reflected on the relationship and identified my own faults. And I've accepted those faults.
I have learned about self and the value of self. I am exactly who I want to be.
I am beautiful because I am beautiful.
I have mastered the art of patience. It's been a long 9 months keeping an eye out for the light at the end of the tunnel.
I know how to stand my ground.
I have made more friends than I've ever had in my life.
I do not regret a thing.
I have accepted everything.
I know my boundaries and I will tell you if you cross it.

The only "issue" I deal with now is a mothers guilt. That's a heavy burden to carry. That's the burden we carry the instant we give birth until forever.

I have met a man who is everything I could ever want in a person. I adore him. I have no doubts about him. Not one.I have decided to move in with him and continue my path with him right beside me.

I have had my 365 days of patience and then some.
I am at peace and I am living my life fully.
I'm not just okay...I am great.

*Point is...It's MY process and MY timeline and MY experience. When I ask for you to listen, just listen. I didn't ask for advise and I didn't ask for opinions. I just asked you to listen.

My toes are green

2006-04-23T20:28:00.000-04:00

Parent teacher conferences went well. The little boogers are excelling. Even brought some grades up from last semester. Alls well in that area. I think I was just overly concerned and feeling a wee bit guilty.

I met with the STBX on Friday. He tried to bulldoze me. Tried for about a half hour. Then I looked him in the eyes and told him exactly how things were going to happen. Exactly what to expect from me. I showed no fear. My lip didn't quiver. My hands didn't shake. I was cool as a cucumber. He could make it easy or difficult. The choice was his. He chose to make things easy. I get what I want. I should have papers to sign in a couple of weeks.

It was a rough week. With the health issues... and the P/T conferences... and the meeting w/ the STBX...and I had some work related chaos thrown in for good measure. I survived it. And my weekend has rewarded me.

I got my garden tools out of storage. Lawn mower, tiller, shovels, weed eater etc...
I mowed SLJ's lawn today. My toes are green now. I heart to mow the lawn. I'm weird like that.
I mowed while he prepped for the new landscaping project.
I finished the lawn. Took a quick spin on the 4-wheeler. Walked up to SLJ to admire his work and was told...
"I'm going to fill this whole area w/ dirt and you can plant whatever you like, angel."

Did you hear that? I get to plant whatever I like.

Still Waters

2006-04-19T10:12:00.000-04:00

This is my plate. This is everything on my plate. Here have some desert. I can spare. I'm full up.
I am a person that can handle loads of stress. Pile it on. I have strong shoulders, I can handle. I'm not saying I don't break down. I do. But I get up and come out fighting.
I had a small breakdown on Monday. I got some results back from the doctor that were just a little upsetting. I'm okay. I'm not dying (well, we're all dying) but these results are not so serious. I have to go back in tomorrow for further testing. It's not that big of a deal, just more than I needed right now. It's amazing how we can instantly turn into that scared little kid we once were. So while I was at it, I made another appt. with my dermatologist to check out some skin things. Might as well stress when I'm already stressed. Yanno. Let's just evalutate my overall health while we're at it and then move on.

I spent my Monday evening consoling my youngest son. He had some sort of breakdown when I told him to get started on his homework that evening. BOOM! Instant breakdown. I recognized it as my little guy needing reassurance and some solid attention. So I spent the entire evening with him in his bedroom talking about anything and everything. Mostly horses and muskrats. Okay. But finally by 9pm, he snapped out of it and his world was right again. He didn't get any homework done and I didn't get anything done that I had planned to do. My happy little guy is back and that's all that matters.

Tonight is parent teacher conferences. That same little guy is struggling in second grade. His grades are great. He just lacks motivation. Not to mention that they have more homework in the second grade than I had in college. He has homework every night. Not just things that don't get done in class either...actual work to be done at home. It makes me angry when all these kids really need is a good climb in a tree or to feel the wind in their hair as they zip down the drive on their bikes. But NO. They must sit inside and work their brain just a wee bit more while their parents are constantly reminding them to focus. And while their fifth grade brother (who NEVER has homework) is outside having fun.It's really unjust and I'm just in the right mood to say a little something about it tonight in P/T conferences. Only 4 1/2 more weeks of school.
Being a parent is the hardest thing ever. There is no room for failure there. There is no self.

Which brings me to the fact that I don't have a clue as to where I'm moving and who will be babysitting my kids this summer. 3 weeks ago I gave the STBX an ultimatum. I need a plan of action. I need to create a home for my boys. I need this divorce done, so I can move on. I need him to get his ass in gear. I called him up, gave him two choices. We're meeting for an early lunch on Friday to discuss and agree. Why we have to actually meet I haven't a clue. I personally prefer to see him as less as possible. I recognize what's happening. Meeting face to face is his chance to control the situation and intimidate. He's a funny boy. I'm a smart woman. I'm in control at all times. He doesn't know my hands are untied and that I'm dancing freely.

Every Tuesday night I meet w/ my business partner and work on our venture. Our goal is to have the first draft of our plan done by the end of April (which is next week). I try not to think of everything that still needs done. I just try to think of the constant progress we make. When I set out to go somewhere, I always make it. I may drive faster or slower than the posted speed. I may turn down a country road instead of taking the interstate. I may stop for coffee or to use the restroom. I may change my destination and follow the casino sign...but I always find my way. 63B.

SLJ is starting a dirt/plant project. I get to help. I get to play in the dirt. You have no idea how exciting that is for me. I heart dirt. At my SLJ's house, everything goes. If I want to take a quick nap I can. If I want to shower more than once a day, I can. If I want M&M's, I can. If I want pizza, I can. If I want to take a quick spin on the 4-wheeler, I can. If I want to go shopping, I can. If I'm done shopping and just really want to go home, I can. If I want to watch movies in my PJ's, I can. He has created this wonderful space for me. A refuge. A sanctuary that I've been missing. And when I really need a hug or really need to be told I'm beautiful, I don't even have to ask. He just makes it happen. I have found my caramel chocolate.

My transmission hasn't dropped yet and my turn signal still works occasionally.

I have just enough money in my account to fill my gas tank until the next payday. That's better than most of the population I suppose. My bills are paid at least.

I'm in a good place. I can handle. I always have. This is living. Silvia and Ortiz won the fight. I think I can do better. Just hand over the title boys.

A few things

2006-04-17T09:25:00.000-04:00

My ringtone.
On my friend Jens phone I'm AC/DC "Back in Black."
On SLJ's phone I'm Eminem "Shake that."
Everybody is Vibrate on my own phone.
If I'm paying the bill at least I get some enjoyment out of it.

SLJ took me to Marble Lake in Michigan Saturday.
It was a beautiful day.
A little cold on the boat,
but light hearted and serene.
Hardly anybody on the water,
besides the cranes, swans, and muskrats.
Trees just beginning to bud.
Water calm and decisive.
Perfect moment.
Camera couldn't even capture it.

I watched "Coach Carter" last night.
If you've ever seen that movie, then you've heard this:
(I dedicate this to you, my friend. It struck home for me as well.)

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant,gorgeous, talented, fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.
We are all meant to shine, as children do.
We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.
It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear,
our presence automatically liberates others.

a return to love - marianne williamson

Where I'm from

2006-04-13T13:54:00.000-04:00

Where I'm From - Tiny Dancer
I am from little red leather bound bibles, from Spaghetti O's and Ho Ho Ho Green Giant in a can.

I am from blackened woodbuners and ancient cemetaries where Mr. Fox rests.

I am from lilac bushes bigger than Barney and golden rows of perfectly spaced corn that whisper the secrets of deer.

I am from mushroom hunting and blue eyes. From Reba and her noodles and Clinton and his Cadillac and Swisher Sweets. From Dicey in her polyester suit and her vanilla cremes.

I am from slot machines and Jack Daniels, the cure for coughs, heartaches and stress.

From Bloody Mary in the mirror and sewer monsters in the toilet.

I am from Kenny Rogers, Willie Nelson and The Oak Ridge Boys about Christmas Carol. From Macy, Tory, Alanis and Mr. Mathers.

I am from fear of God and being humble. From unconditional love and never judgement.

I am from names of friends, immigrants from Germany, France and Mexico. Names never pronounced or spelled currectly but always creatively.

I am from the Mid-West, Mashed potatoes and potroast.

From Pioneers, Hawks, Cardinals, Raiders, Vikings and Cougars.

I am from pipeline operators towered over by white giants and homemakers handing out love.
From years of medicine and booming technology.

I am from many friends that walk beside me. From Red heads, belly dancers, Cowgirls and writers.

I am from a family of many strangers and many strangers who are family.

I am from Mothers and Fathers. Sons and daughters. From Zen, but mostly I am from within.

*Found this over at Robbies place. Thought I'd give it a try. http://robbiesruminations.blogspot.com/

Expression reflection

2006-04-13T11:29:00.000-04:00

I was going thru some older entries the other day and ran across this one.
http://handstiedbehindmyback.blogspot.com/2005/12/expression.html

I smiled when I finished reading it.
I feel joy again.
This is such a nice place to be.
Such a good feeling.

Toaster Oven Analogy

2006-04-10T16:07:00.000-04:00

I obviously have too much free time...

I have a burn on my left hand.
Posterior side, 3rd distal metacarpal area. Almost right on top of my middle finger knuckle.
I like bagels.
I like Thomas brand, multi-grain bagels.
I like them so much, I have one every morning.
Sometimes dry.
Sometimes w/ a smudge of butter.
Sometimes w/ Smuckers blackberry jelly.
Sometimes w/ cinnamon.
Sometimes w/ cream cheese.
But always toasted.
I got burnt pulling my bagel out of the toaster oven a week ago.
It smelled like the OR. Cauderized flesh.
It hurt.
Even with my high pain tolerance, I squeeled for a minute.
I like bagels enough that being burnt didn't stop me from having another bagel the next morning.
And the morning after that.
And every morning for a week since.
I still have the burn on my hand.
It looks bad.
It's healing.
Pre itch stage. Just a scab.
All those tiny little RBC's came to the rescue and did their job sufficiently.
Yes, it hurt pretty bad, but it's healing.
No, it hasn't stopped me from using the toaster oven or eating my bagel every morning.

Should I swear off all toaster ovens from here on out because I got burnt from one?
Should I take some time away from the toaster oven and just go untoasted for a little while?
Or switch to a regular toaster and jam my bagel in the toast slots? Force the issue? Just deal?
Should I see this as a sign and give up on bagels, because, clearly, toasted bagels are not meant for me?

No. I like toasted bagels.
Do I NEED bagels. No, I can survive with Strawberry Fields Kashi. I like it too. I like it very much. I just like Thomas brand Multi-grain bagels more. And they're available, so heck yah.

Can I eat a bagel that's not toasted. Sure. But I prefer it toasted. And it's available to be toasted. So I will toast it.

My hand will heal.
I will most likely always have a slight hint of a scar.
A blemish.
And I will always remember where that little blemish came from.
But I will use the toaster oven again.
Without fear.
But with slightly more awareness of my actions.
I know I can be burnt at any time.
But I will go back every morning.
And I will be satisfied.
I am not scared of being burnt again.
I like toasted bagels toasted in the toaster oven.
I'm scarred but smarter.

Me and you and my old friend fear

2006-04-03T12:11:00.000-04:00

Fear is a nasty little creep isn't it. I was having some really weird feelings this weekend and couldn't figure out what my problem was. I'm finally seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. Doors are finally shutting and opening and in a few months I will most likely be out of my limbo and into a sort of comfort zone again. It's been almost 9 months of waiting and wanting and some of those dominoes are starting to fall... and I suddenly freak out. WTF?

I realized it was fear. I'm "getting back" some of the things I've "lost" and I'm scared to death that if I actually get it, I'll lose it again.

I had some major jealousy issues this weekend. That jealousy surprised me. Those old familiar feelings of inadequacy and jealousy I had w/ the STBX crept back up here and there. I haven't had to deal with those feelings for a little while and then poof, something small and insignificant triggered it. It started w/ a dream that was just a little difficult to shake. And then everything else followed. Weird how the mind plays games on reality. Self protect mechanisms kick in without a conscious effort.

Check this out...

Last Wednesday I spoke to the STBX. We decided that the attorneys are taking too long and that we need to hammer out a few things amongst ourselves and then go to the attorneys. So in doing this, I am thinking that my divorce should be final in no more than a few months at the latest. Cool.

It also looks like I have a plan of action. School will be out soon, I have a general game plan about our living situation. I'm excited about it. Going through my storage unit in my head. Material possessions that I've somehow lived without but miss just a little are going to be around me again. Organization and peace once again. Surrounded by everything that I love and want to be with. Seeing my santcuary once more in the near future.

My kids are with their father 6 days straight at the MILs house. They come back Weds. and will be with me for 5 days straight. Just splitting up Spring break. So, without my kids, I've been staying with SLJ in Ohio. We usually don't get this much time together, so it's been a nice treat. I moved a few things out of my overnight bag and into the medicine cabinet. Big steps. Getting more comfortable. This is where slight fear of losing all that is good steps in on some unconscious level.

I had a dream that SLJ hooked up with a woman I went to school with. Nicole. Nicole just so happened to steal my boyfriend in 8th grade. Nicole and SLJ hooked up in my dream. That was a hard one to shake. Once more, my buddy fear makes an appearance.

Small discussions and reminders here and there about past relationships enter the scene. Haircuts. Bedding. Cocobutter. Porn. X-ray training. Baby items. Just little, insignificant things that heighten the awareness of old fears, old pains and old insecurities.

I realize I'm acting crazy. Why do I feel like crying and burying my head? And then it dawns on me... This is my old friend Fear. Fear of losing a dream that doesn't entirely exist yet. Amazing how the mind can play it's tricks.

The past will remain in the past. Everything (including SLJ) is different now. Nothing but miracles await. I dance with my hands free now.

(In my sleep, I think I said "You aren't him" and I think you said "No, I'm not." Is that right? It seems familiar. Maybe I just thought that a million times and am constantly comforted by the fact that you are real and that I am loved unconditionally.)

Slut song

2006-03-29T11:28:00.000-05:00

I'm disturbed. (Yes, epiphany!)
I decided to listen to a local pop station because I was going mad over some SOS song that Spyder was talking about. So I find this local pop station on the radio and they are playing an Eminem song..."Shake that ass for me. Shake that ass for me." It's really not a delightful song for womens integrity and what disturbs me is that I like it. Wait, no I love it. I turned up the bass, turned up the volume and bounced along down the interstate. Scary. I felt guilty. I got over it.

I finally heard the SOS song Spyder was talking about too..."cause I'm your tiny dancer!"
Um huh, that's right. I'm your tiny dancer baby! Big smiles.

I've been in a terrible mood over the last week. PMS. I've cut sugar out of my diet. 6 days w/out sugar (except for my addiction to sweetened caffeinated beverages like the venti CMacc I had this morning.) Anxiety levels have been vera high. Just stressing about the living situation and the future. Feeling very inadequate as a mother, daughter and friend. When it rains it pours and sometimes there are just no umbrellas around.

Anyways, the anxiety finally broke yesterday.
It might have been the whole ponderance of a watch w/ no hands.
Or it could've been the 10 minutes I spent in the "fake D" (aka tanning bed.)
Or it could've been the Double latte'.
Or it could've been the Bahai prayer I recited with my friends family last night.
Or it could've been the combination of all of the above.
Whatever it was, it broke the anxiety and I'm back to my old tiny dancer half is glass full (half is glass full?) self.

By the end of the prayers, I was re-freshed. I bounced around my friends kitchen doing the dishes, cleaning the counters, sweeping the floors. Then we worked on the business plan a little and I was suddenly amazed at how focused and on task I was. Then I hopped on the interstate and cranked the Eminem up. Made my way to Ohio to visit my SLJ. Had a scorching hot shower. Drank a coupla beers and laughed with SLJ and his Cousin T until about 2:00 am. And I feel great today.

Not much anxiety or inadequecy exists today. I'm calm, cool and collected once more. Trusting the process and bouncing to the bass w/ Eminem's slut song.

No hands

2006-03-28T16:30:00.000-05:00

I just met a man that has no hands on his watch. Why does he wear the watch if it doesn't function like a watch should? Maybe to remind him that it doesn't really matter what time it is.
What if I had no hands on my watch. Would I be anxious all the time, just wandering what time it is. Or would I even care what time it was and just go with the flow?

Does it really matter what time it is? I looked at the clock at 4:00 and then again at 4:30. What did I do that was so important in that half hour? If I want it to be 6:30 so bad, why can't I just do what I would do at 6:30, that seems so important to me, now.

Where was I yesterday at 4:30? Did it matter? Will it matter tomorrow? Tomorrow I might be dead by 3:30 and never see 4:30. Will that hour matter?

Tomorrow I know that my nephews birthday party is at 5:00. I won't be there exactly at 5:00. Would it matter to my nephew if I showed up earlier or later? As long as I brought his gift, I think not.

I also have to be at the office at 9:00. It would most likely matter if I was late, but no one seems to acknowledge when I'm early. Early doesn't count like late counts. Why?

I have my alarm clock set for 6:30. I don't usually get up until 7:00. Does that half hour matter? Did I waste it?

Am I letting the hands on the watch dictate how I live my life? Most likely the answer is, yes. Why? Because of society? Because that's what responsible adults do? Time management.
This watch with no hands has me perplexed. Therefore I must assume that if I wore a watch with no hands, I would indeed be anxious. But is the anxiety equal to that of wearing a watch with hands? I do not know.

Maybe I need a watch with just one hand... then I would be somewhere in between. Kinda caring, kinda not.

This is exactly why I don't read the paper. It makes me anxious.

A place called home

2006-03-26T15:18:00.000-05:00

It's Sunday afternoon. The first Sunday in Spring. I woke up at 10:20 a.m. I hardly ever sleep in, so that was quite a treat. And then I woke up to the sunshine. Even better. I stepped out on the porch while letting the pup out and my feet soaked up the warmed concrete and I gazed at the grass as it struggled to turn green.

It seems I've returned to that apprehension phase. Anxiety of where to go, what to do, not having a clue. Limbo. No home, trying to realize that home is in my heart. The dominoes are still upright. As if all of them refuse to fall. I'm trying hard not to let myself be frustrated. Patience is not a virtue of mine. I suppose this is my great lesson.

I had a vision today of my garden. I guess it was the spring like weather that brought it on. I stood at the edge of my garden and tears rolled down my face. I had a couple of people beside me. I was sharing. They were supporting and each of them understood why I had tears rolling down my cheeks. And then I walked over to a woman (my future "MIL") and I grabbed her hand and let her stand beside me at my garden. My husband was there. Not the STBX, but my future husband and he wiped away the tears and looked over my garden with pride and respect.

It was just the spring like weather and the knowledge that my life is proceeding not returning.

I will gather my strength and my pride and I will wait patiently. Trusting the process. I know it's coming soon, but I suppose there are a few more things to learn before then.

Home is in my heart.

FOR LOVE OF DOG

2006-03-17T12:20:00.000-05:00

I've been very busy at work lately...hence multiple postings per day.
I'm a dog person. I heart dogs. My boyfriend has a dog. It's some sort of mix that he adopted from the shelter. The thing is adorable. It really, really is. The bad part is that it's still a puppy. It's about 7 months old now. It likes to chew on things. He leaves the dog out of it kennel at night to roam the house. Here's a list of some of the things we've lost to the dogs mischevious nature.
1) SLJ's pager for work
2) SLJ's son's nebulizer meds - all of them. Not cheap. Good thing SLJ's girlfriend works at an Allergy & Asthma center.
3) Two pair of tiny dancer panties - crotch only.
4) A tiny dancer tooth brush and cap to the toothpaste
5) SLJ's leather weight lifting glove.
6) Multiple SLJ's sons plastic toys, balls and stuffed animals - poor Shrek
7) Entryway linoleum
8) Pieces of carpet
9) SLJ's son has lost many a plate of food or bowl of cereal to the pup.
Multiple pieces of trash has been pulled out of the bathroom can. He once murdered a pull-up, filled w/ those tiny little pee absorbing beads.Multiple pieces of actual trash bag at an attempt to get the trash.It's kind of become a game...Wake up in the morning to guess what Chopper has destroyed this time.
The dog isn't allowed in the bed. Instead of waking you up to go out, he just hikes a leg and pees on you. I've been peed on twice now. I try not to take it personal.There's a running joke of "Where's Chopper" because there have been times when I've wondered if he will live to see the next day. The dog likes to roam the neighborhood too. We thought we were smarter than the dog. We thought we covered the hole in the fence...must be more than one hole. There have been multiple phone calls from neighbors letting us know the dog is visiting.
But still, at the end of the day when it's time to relax on the couch and veg a bit, Chopper curls up right beside me, snuggles in tight and lets me rub his soft soft puppy ear and somehow, I find myself still loving that dog even if he ate my favorite pair of panties.

Do you smell that?

2006-03-17T11:56:00.000-05:00

I was at a friends house helping out with dinner the other night. I was prepping the green beans for steaming. I clipped the ends, tossed the bean into the colander and rinsed them. And there it was... the smell of dirt. It wafted up to my nose, it took over my entire being. Visions of my hands in dirt. Visions of my garden. Visions of bushes of beans and red potatoes.

I couldn't help but smile. I heart dirt.

Inventory

2006-03-16T18:24:00.000-05:00

Why I'm thinking about this, I'm not entirely sure. I guess just taking stock. I've come to the realization that yup, I live in my car.

I guess that's normal for a person that owns a house at point A, also where the kids go to school, staying w/ parents 15 minutes from that at point B, works and socializes w/ close friends 45 minutes from that at point C, trying to start a business, 10 minutes from that, at point D, and has a boyfriend 30 minutes from that in point E. Yes my daily life is the ending to Elizabethtown.

So, yah, now I can see why the majority of my income goes to my vehicle. Makes sense now.However it doesn't lighten the excruiciating pain I feel at the gas pump. I always think "Well, there goes a day on the clock only to be spit out the exhaust in the end."

Items in my car at this very moment:
1) Several shirts hanging in the back window
2) Overnight bag w/ spare curling iron and hairdryer and spare panties (AKA Booty call bag)
3) 3 CD cases...my entire CD collection is kept in my car. I don't even own a home stereo system.
4) Sage smudge stick (gives police officers something to talk about.)
5) bottle of perfume
6) 2 fingernail files (I suffer from OCD when it comes to my fingernails)
7) several pens
8) wire cutters (um, yah, don't ask.)
9) several used napkins from my morning multi-grain bagels (can be re-used when a child vomits or sneezes)
10) umbrella (at this time only one. I usually keep at least two.)
11) two pairs of muddy boys shoes.
12) two muddy boys jackets
13) dog leash (do I even have a dog? oh yah, I do. No worries, her grandparents take excellent care of her.)
14) Imaginext pieces (just in case I have a sudden need to build a castle.)
15) Six childrens books (never know when I'll be entertaining someone elses child. I'm always prepared. Okay, and I love childrens books.)
16) hairbrush
17) kitchen shears (not sure about that one either.)
18) multiple pages of written directions and addresses (not sure whose, but hey, at least I know how to get there.)
19) US map (never know when I'll drive to a casino for the weekend.)
20) Two funnels (lesson from the college days: Always had oil, never had funnel. Now I have two funnels and no oil.)
21) Boyfriends jacket (makes the vehicle smell yummy.)
22) car soap and wax (came w/ the vehicle, never been used.)
23) plain white sheet (mutiple uses.)
24) spare tire
25) jumper cables
26) New years beads hanging from mirror
27) hula girl air freshener hanging from mirror going on two years now.
28) old big bulky flame covered cell phone and charger (What the frell are you supposed to do with the outdated cell stuff anyways?)
29) newer cell phone charger for my handy dandy little flip phone
30) big bag of cake decorating supplies (There's something you wouldn't have guessed huh. Never know when you need to bake a cake.)
31) Ice scraper thingy

So yah. There you have it. Now who read thru all of that and thought "No make-up"...come on, fess up. I'm a once a day application girl. I don't priss too much, and I can't apply and drive at the same time. Now who's thinking "No but bake a cake and drive at the same time."

RE: Taking Requests

2006-03-16T12:20:00.000-05:00

I mentioned just a tad bit about the goddess dance class in my last post and had a request to further expand on it.

(Sorry, no pictures. But trust me, it is not a picture worthy site to see me shimmying. Just take my word for it.)

Anyways, this was more like a one time only workshop that I was involved in. There is a group of women that meet every week to learn, discuss and ponder the influences of the goddess' we as women possess. This group, or sisterhood, is led by a local professor named Beverley Danusis. Anyways, my close friend and business partner, Layli' is a part of this goddess rap. Layli' is from Hawaii and has been practicing the art of belly dancing for over nine years. She has also taught belly dancing for birthing and empowerment for 2 years. Layli' was giving this workshop on belly dancing and tapping into your sacred space for the goddess group, and I attended. Layli' gifted the group with her dance and then continued to teach a few moves and lead the group into their own empowerment and free will to dance.

If you ever have a chance to see a belly dancer perform, I highly recommend it. It's a very empowering, beautiful thing to observe. And just squelch any images of woman shaking teets in face or woman getting naked for your viewing pleasure, because it is so not like that. It's a very cultural, spiritual dance that leaves you pretty much breathless and in awe. From knowing Layli and knowing other belly dancers thru her, I feel pretty comfortable in saying that the belly dance has pretty well evolved back to women dancing for their own empowerment, and not women dancing for men's pleasure as seen in Indiana Jones, Star Wars etc...etc...

In writing about all of this, I feel compelled to share how Layli' specifically her dance has affected my life. Because, after all, like duh, it's all about me.

As you're all aware I'm sure, I have been "coming into my own" for just over a year now. Call it my Saturn, call it crawling out of my abyss, call it becoming a woman, call it my mid-life crisis, call it whatever the hell you wanna. Whatever it is dubbed...I've been privy to come into it over the last year. The crossing of the threshold was in Cheryls yoga class in L.A. last February. (Sending my love to Cheryl! XO) Upon returning to the Mid-West and the undying, devoted, unconditional love of my husband, I started said voyage into my own. As it turns out, I was not meant to journey alone without guidance. Thus, I was sent Layli' from Hawaii. My empowerment icon.

We bonded, formed friendship and to this day we have GNO every now and again. The first GNO, I didn't dance. In my damaged mind, I was fat and ugly and very uncomfortable w/ myself and I just couldn't dance. Especially felt this way when up against a nine year veteran belly dancer. Slowly over the past year, Layli's empowerment and total comfort with her body has rubbed off on me. Layli' has helped majorly in reversing damage done. Her encouraging words, her actions, her dance has helped me be comfortable with my body and hence...smiling, stark naked tiny dancer untying hands here.

My journey has not yet ended...never ending. But in review...WHOA! Have I sure come a long way. I strongly believe that people and events are placed on our paths for very specific reasons.

Do me a favor, yah YOU (Men and women alike)...if you don't already have it (for whatever ungodly reason), get a copy of Macy Grays "Sexual Revolution", pop it into your CD player, get naked, and just dance. If you're normally not a dancer, here's a few tips: stand w/ your knees slightly bent and move your hips in a figure eight fashion. To the right around the loop and to the left around the loop. Maybe raise your arms above your head and grab your left index finger w/ your right hand. Don't look in the mirror, just know you are fantastic. Not because I said so, just because you are. Dance your heart out and be sure to smile. Unconditionally love yourself. It's really okay not to be perfect. None of us are, but we are still very beautiful people. And when you're done, maybe sit and reflect. Maybe listen to "Song for a friend" by Jason Mraz. Maybe just love yourself for a few minutes... and then indulge in a bite or two of 66% dark chocolate.

Mmmmm. Life just doesn't get any better than this. (Now unlock the bathroom door, turn off the water you used for noise and go on with your day.)

Roy-Boss tea

2006-03-13T13:40:00.000-05:00

Huh? It's the middle of March. WTF?
I barely have weeks left. I don't have much time. I don't have a plan of action. Oh crap.

These are the thoughts I'm trying to live without. They are there, way down there. Jumping up every now and again, just to be reminded that everything will work out as it should.

I'm still waiting on my divorce. When will this be over? When can I sign papers?
I'm still waiting on the cash flow to make it possible to move out of my parents, and that's pending the divorce. So, back to: When will the divorce be done?
I don't have a plan on where to move to. I thought I did. But there are still so many variables.
Variables like: Where are the children going to go to school? What will I do for childcare this summer? And those variables get even more complicated because I know they are only short term. And then I wonder: Should I even bother with the short term arrangements or should I just slide right into the long term? That would most likely be the best idea for the children, but will it be the best idea for me? And all of this is going to need to be decided and acted upon by the end of May.

Which means...I have 2 months. I have a lifetime, but I have two months.

In the meantime, I'm doing what I can to plan ahead. Exploring options. Waiting. Drinking my tea. Eating my veggies. Riding the ATV and getting muddy. Balancing my checkbook daily and paying my bills. Moving forward on my business plan. Taking a goddess dance class tonight. You know the drill...just living. What other option do I have?

In my opinion

2006-03-08T10:35:00.000-05:00

Evidentally I have a calling.
I have been told I communicate well.
I give it out honestly. I will not tell you what you want to hear. I will tell you what you need to hear, but I will do it in a way that respects and loves. I will not judge. I can't judge. I just can't. No matter what you're feeling, it's valid. I will try to help you step away from the situation and I will try to help you flip the perspective. I will not tell you what you want to hear.

DK made contact again yesterday. After several unanswered calls and messages left on my voicemail, my curiosity got the best of me. What was going on and why after 3 months was he calling me? If anything, I needed to just simply let him know he wasn't allowed back in.

My instinct told me that it was something about K. K is the co-worker that I introduced to DK when I was dating him. K is the co-worker that acted like my friend. K is the co-worker that I believed hooked up with DK behind my back. Like I said, I didn't have confirmation of that until last week. So, after several phone calls from DK, and before I answered any of them, I decided to confront K. I went right up to her desk and when I asked to speak with her for a minute, she instantly knew what it was about.

Without apology, she quickly filled me in on how they had been seeing each other for the past 3 months and now DK was out of control and stalking her. (Keep in mind that K is not stable either. This is not the first "stalker" K has had. I'm not entirely sure how many restraining orders K has out there on men who have "stalked" her...but I do know they exist.)

So DK has found himself in a pickle. He has fallen madly in love with K, but K wants nothing to do with him and plans on filing a restraining order on him today. Such a pickle. But still leaves the question unanswered as to why he's calling me...

I talked to DK for about an hour last night. Turns out that he was actually calling to apologize to the way "things went down" with us. I accepted his apology and quickly let him know that forgiving him and befriending him are two different things. I can forgive without letting him back into my life.

And then, it came out... he was wanting me to be a friend and talk to K on his behalf. Saw that coming a mile away. So I quickly put out that fire. No. K is not my friend. DK is not my friend. Whatever is going on between them, doesn't involve me. I will not play games. I will not waste my time. DK kept denying that he wanted me in the middle of it, but when I simply stated "then what are you asking of me?" He had no choice but to realize he was indeed asking me to get in the middle of it.

I then told DK that if he was asking for my opinion about the situation, I will gladly give it to him. And I did. I just simply said, "step away. Get out." He went on to say how he loved her and that it wasn't that easy... and you may only guess what I told him... (wait for it...)

"True love, is given AND received, equally."

Silence followed that statement. I was right and there was no arguing with me.

If there is one thing that I know, I know this...if it is not equal, it is not love.

DK kept asking if we could be friends. To that I replied (please save your applause for the end)

"I used to have a problem dropping people. I do not have that problem anymore."
To which he said, "I guess you can thank me for that." And he's right. Between him and the STBX...I don't have a problem dropping people that just don't get it.
* good point made by a friend here... "I guess you can thank me for that" was credit taken where credit was not deserved. An attempt at "teaching me, helping me" when in fact... it was my call, my choice. Very very good point. Opinions always welcome from friends. Don't spare me.

So class our lesson from Counselor Carol today:
1) Give it straight. Be honest, but be respectful and loving and sensitive. (otherwise I might have to put you on my shit list with the STBX.)
2) You can forgive without befriending. You forgive for you, not them. (Forgive our tresspasses as we forgive those that tresspass against us.)
3) True love is giving and receiving, equally. (It's not one person loving the other, and the other filing a restraining order.)
4) If they just don't get it. Step away. Get out. Re-evaluate. Then move on. Purge old to receive new. (The future cannot move in, if we are clinging to the past. Make room.)
5) Do not give credit where credit is not deserved.

Amen.

Now go forth and plant seeds of love (I say as I have my head cocked to the left and spreading my arms out, palms up as the sun shines down upon my head. Ha.)

MARCH MADNESS

2006-03-06T12:01:00.000-05:00

Interesting weekend.

I had an appointment with my divorce attorney on Friday. We reviewed the divorce papers together and agreed on all the changes I wanted to see made. A letter will go out to the STBX's attorney with proposed changes and so now I wait once again for further instructions. I hate this waiting stuff, but I'm pretty good at it at this point. My attorney had me on a high note and laughing before I left his office. I'm grateful for him. I love the above and beyond kindness he possess.

I had my very first Tarot reading on Friday too. Interesting stuff there. New revelations. Always something new. I've been thinking about it all weekend. Some important things that were relayed that I feel like sharing with this particular group of people...The thing about Tarot is that you're not going to find out anything new that you don't already know or believe. My reading was basically just a confirmation of things I'm already realizing. I asked a lot of questions was given answers that I already know in my heart. Basically my reading confirmed that this spring and summer will be a very busy one for me. A cleansing. A re-structuring if you will. Lots happening this spring.
Here's just a few things that stand out that I think we can all relate to.
1) Once a jerk, always a jerk until that person decides that they themselves don't want to be a jerk. Nothing I can do about it. I can only let go and move on. Often, that persons greatest gift will be to have met me. Realize this.
2) Negativity. The moon and stars only shine when it's dark out. Flip the perspective. Going from the mantra of "That's not okay" to "This is okay because..." When a child has had an encounter with a bully on the bus...it gives that child the chance to shine and be proclaimed as "the nice kid." Flip the perspective. It's that easy.
3) I don't have to agree. And when someone does or is doing something I don't agree with, be thankful that they are the ones doing it because now, I don't have to be the one doing it. Bow out.
4) Everything that I have been taught in the past can be untaught. I know and believe what is right for me. It's time to live in my beliefs. As a pisces, I have an internal switch, I can flip it at any time. Just need to learn how to flip it.
5) I don't necassarily want to be the example to my children on how to say "I'm not okay with this." I want to be the example on "how to be happy." Doing things to be happy rather than doing things because it's not okay. It is okay. It's exactly how it's supposed to be and I can see the stars shine because of it.
I'm not saying that I didn't have to go through that period of time when I found my voice...I had to go through that. I found my voice, I see what's right. It's time to move on with it. Voice is here to stay. It's not going anywhere. I won't lose it. It's time to realize what I believe as truth versus what I was taught to believe as truth, and just simply be happy. The old Dancer is not coming back. Jerks will look at me and not recognize me because how can I possibly be this happy? I can be this happy because "I'm okay with this." "It's okay."
I hope this speaks to you like it spoke to me. Constant states of change. Series of evolution. The journey...on.

I spent the weekend with SLJ. It's constantly amazing me how you can be in a relationship and learn so much about yourself thru the other person. It's a reflection, I know, I know.

I met his STBX wife Saturday. Sure I was a little anxious. Anxious but very willing. It went smoothly. In that scenario I saw a lot of things that I am. I am unflappable. I am proud. I am beautiful. I am confident. I am a gawd damned good mother. (Those are things I never knew until she showed them to me.)

I met his parents Sunday. I wasn't anxious about that at all.

The thing that I get the most when I'm with SLJ...there are truly just some people who do "get it." He gets it. He gets me. I don't have to explain myself or drive a point home...he just simply gets it. He sees me and he knows me. And there are some people who can laugh right along with you, even if you don't know what the hell you're laughing about. There are some people that you can just fall to the floor and laugh, and they will be right beside you laughing with you. It's really nice. Really, really nice. No judgements...there's a new thing.

Another thing that popped up this weekend...Remember that whole chaotic deal back in December with DK? I was 99.9% positive DK had "hooked up" with one of my co-workers. I didn't have proof...I just had coincidence and a gut feeling. Well, Thursday my gut feeling was confirmed. Proof. DK walked straight into the office I work at and brought her a rose. It's been going on since December.
Not only that...but he tried to come back to me for a friend. He called me 10 times on Sunday. He was unstable. He needed someone to talk to. The last time I talked to him he yelled at me and hung up on me. I said no. I'm sorry, but NO ONE gets to yell and scream at me, call me unstable, lie to my freakin face and then come back when they need a friend. It doesn't work that way.

The old Dancer...she's gone. The new Dancer is here to rock the house and I will give your responsibility right back to you.

Giddy up.

Yes. Yes I do believe my hands are finally untied. Dancing freely now.

Happy Birthday to Me (Two of Two)

2006-02-26T18:22:00.000-05:00

Like duh...you can't celebrate life in just ONE DAY!

Day Two of birthday festivities: Painted my toenails. Took an afternoon nap. Given a dozen roses from SLJ and son. Went out with about 10 of my friends. Laughed. Danced. Drank um...just a few Cap'n n' cokes. Received x-rated gift that vibrates and squirms, from my dork friends. Plus a beautiful e-card from my favorite web spinner. And cried about 3 times total (might've been the alcohol.) It was a pretty darn good day.

(Yah, showing off my lesbian glasses here. They do look pretty darn hot don't they!)

I brought SLJ along to all my birthday festivities. So far, he's met my family. He's met my friends. He's been tested and bypassed the Layli' barrier. He's been forced to dance at my favorite gay club (which BTW, SLJ said he didn't dance. As if. These baby blues of mine are very convincing. "The force is strong with Dancer.") And the man is still hanging around. So I'm forced to admit that he must have a mental handicap...either that, or he really, really likes me.
(He said he likes my glasses. He also said he likes me "just the way I am." And he also said I have a cute butt. And he also said he likes Layli'. Yah, I think I'm keeping him. Ladies and gentlemen...I've found the caramel. Happy Birthday Baby!)

Happy Birthday to Me (One of Two)

2006-02-25T12:52:00.000-05:00

Chocolate cake. Pizza. Coffee. Cheerleading w/ aunt Carol. 7 kids and my brother injected w/ sugar running around the house screaming and yelling. Birthday cards that make me pee my pants laughing. Catching the cake on fire. Ah...this is my family celebrating my birthday. Happy birthday to me.

Understanding

2006-02-22T15:41:00.000-05:00

I just finished reading Gigis http://lotusmartinis.blogspot.com/ "Valentines day at the casino" post. I swear every single time she talks about her and Turk I get all these little butterflies in my tummy. I'm in love with the understanding that belongs to certain couples. I get a little jealous of the inside jokes...the comradery...the equality... or at least I used to.

SLJ: "Hershey bar with almonds sounds good."
TD: "Ya wanna go get one?"
SLJ: "No, I'm okay. I don't need one."
TD - an hour later: "Hershey bar with almonds sounds good."
SLJ: "Do you want me to go get you one?"
TD: "No."
TD: "Yes."
TD: "Um, how far is it to your local Hershey bar supplier?"
SLJ: "5 miles."
TD & SLJ: Snicker, chuckle and laugh about the absurdity of 1) knowing exactly how far it is to your local hershey bar supplier and 2) the absurdity of going out in the cold for a hershey bar that's five miles away.
SLJ: "How far away is your local hershey bar supplier?"
TD: "Eight miles."
TD & SLJ: More snickers and laughs. Total understanding and equality.
TD: "We can go after 'Everyone loves Raymond' is over."
5 miles later SLJ leads the way to the candy corner at the local market and buys TD a Hershey bar with almonds.
TD: "If I was pregnant and wanted a cheeseburger, would you drive to the next town for McDonalds for me?"
SLJ: "Of course I would."
TD: "Yah, that's what I thought." donning a big smile and biting into the chocolate.

One step closer

2006-02-22T09:40:00.000-05:00

I took the day off of work yesterday. Needed to get some progress done on our new business venture. My partner and I had a meeting with one of the city planners and one of the business owners nearby. We looked over color coded maps and got solid info for our planning. Timing and location seem to be perfect and that's the main ingredients in a successful business. They gave us confirmations.

We also made a new contact thru my Morelli. A local vendor. We sat down over coffee with him and discussed plans. Another confirmation.

Things are happening. Things are falling into place. Confirmation after confirmation. Are you receptive to confirmations? Because I'm seriously telling you they are out there. When you open your eyes and see the process, it's truly amazing.

I'm very excited. My village is on it's way. We're one step closer. I wish I could convey my excitement... there are just no words. It's happening. My life is coming full circle. Everything I have wanted is happening. I'm in charge. I am not settling and no one is asking me to.

I can't wait for you to share in my village with me. Just can't wait. I want to give it to you. I want to share my visions.

* later addition to this entry: I should retitle it "Good Day"

So not only did I have a great day business wise....

1) I also had my address changed on my liscense and the BMV only took 15 minutes. In and out! It was awesome...AND I'm somewhat pleased w/ the new liscense pic...somewhat. As far as "mug shots" go. I had a good hair day anyways.

2) I went shopping. I actually went after new khakis for work, but instead walked out with a bag of clearance. I got a lavender velvet blazer (originally $72) for $6.77. I knoooowww... like, right on. Also got a kick ass silk skirt for $3.77. Say it with me... Bargain.

3) Got to see my Morelli and his fine self (outside of the office).

4) Went to SLJ's house and cooked him dinner...after he took me for a muddy ride on his ATV. I love speed. I really didn't mind combing the mud out of my hair or wiping it off of my shoes.

SLJ even took me to get a Hershey bar w/ almonds last night around 9:00pm. Considering he had to drive 5 miles to the nearest store...that's pretty awesome of him. (I didn't even get that kind of treatment w/ the STBX, when we lived a block away from the store, when I was pregnant and craving everything and begging for a gawd damn bag of chips ahoy or taco bell soft taco.)

5) I got to see Abby give DiNoso a vase of black roses. I love Abby. She's such a cool little Goth hottie.

My birthday is this coming Saturday... A group of us for dinner at Henrys with an acoustic artist. Then off to a bar/club to shake my booty. Be there or be square! (No worries, I'll have someone snap a few shots to post.) Unfortunetly, it's not going to be my "slash divorce party." (What's taking sooo long?) But I'm an optimist and that will just give me another reason to party later.

* AND...

I also found out through "my source" that one of my fellow employees is in big trouble with the boss. Just so happens to be the fellow employee that was involved in the whole Donkey Kong chaos that ripped me up a little. Thee same fellow employee who pretended to be my friend and then stabbed me in the back. I sorta feel bad that I'm happy she's in big trouble because I'm the type of person who wishes no harm to even my enemies...but not really feeling that bad. She's the one who manifested it. I just get to see it come full circle and know that what goes around always comes around. I so wish I could be a fly on the wall sometimes...

An open book

2006-02-20T16:00:00.000-05:00

I don't particuarly pray. I don't get on my knees or fold my hands. I don't bow my head. I don't close my eyes. I don't acknowledge the power of prayer. It reminds me of that childrens prayer book I had as a child with the little precious moments character being revert. It just seems hokey. I just don't do this. BUT, I did this a few weeks ago. I felt the need to acknowledge a higher power. And you have no idea how difficult it is to admit it here. "Ask and you shall receive. Knock and the door will be opened." I knelt by the bed that afternoon, closed my eyes, folded my hands and I asked for something that my heart truly desired. Weird thing is...I received it. And I truly believe in the power of prayer. My mind and my heart has been fulfilled. Just thought you should know that.

On Friday I cooked a dinner for my parents to share. My mom didn't really want to cook and my dad was due home from work in about an hour and would be famished. So I whipped up a little dinner for the two of them. I pulled out my moms fine china and set the table. I lit a candle. I served them. It's really in the little non-difficult things we do. It's the details that get overlooked in life. It's the napkin rings that make up some of lifes special moments. It's the being happy with who we are and what we have and sharing that with the ones we love.

The STBX and I had our taxes done on Friday. No big deal. The weird part was...it wasn't weird. We sat 2 inches from each other, worked together, agreed on everything, looked at each other without eyes of anger and spite and got our taxes done. I actually thought about bringing him a latte from the coffee shop that morning, but decided against it. I'll share my little joys with someone I love and someone that could appreciate it on the same level. I'll do my taxes with him, but I won't bring him joy anymore. That's not in the job description and I'm okay with that.

Here's another secret...I like NASCAR. I knooooow...WTF? But yah, I do. I watched my first race yesterday. All of it. I even got mad at Tony Stewart because he was being less than becoming. There's a whole new world out there when you open your eyes to the possibilities.

I have a great sense of direction. Well, not so much when I've spun around the room a zillion times with my arms straight out...then I'm a little off the mark. The thing about the Mid-West...County roads all look the same. There's a million white farm houses, a million corn fields that all look the same and every yard has DISH and Free Kittens...but somehow, I always know where I am and how to get where I'm going. I may not know how to structure a written goal...but I know what I want and I know how to get there.

There's only one work by Pablo Picasso that I like. And it happens to be my favorite work of art. I enjoy Monet and Van Gogh, but that one work by Picasso is what captivates me. Guernica. I think it's all the chaos and hidden images. It's like the ID spilt out on a plate and you see something different each time.

I think Goth is cool. I only dress Goth-like on certain occasions, but I love all these little teenagers in their black clothes, silver jewelry and dyed hair. I adore it. But I wear pink and turquoise...it works better w/ my undertones.

Give me a plain black or blue paper mate med. pt. any day. Let's just keep it simple and on the page.

I'm allergic to chocolate. I eat it anyways. 70% is best. I also like it w/ almonds.

There are a lot of things I deeply care about. But there are a lot of things I really don't give a flyin fuck about. One of those things being the fact that some people want me to change. I'll tell you now. I won't change into something you want me to be. I won't do something you think I should do. I will only change when I feel the need to. I will only do something I want to. I really don't care what you think I should be or do. I just don't and I don't feel that I should.

My kids say "Yes ma'am." They have since they were little. I do not tolerate the word "no." I am the mother. My children know I deeply love them. There are no questions about being loved in my house. Nor, will there ever be again. I will let you go if you do not know the meaning of love.

I do a Napoleon Dynamite impression. It's usually reserved for my kids at bedtime.

I didn't love him. I adored a lot about him, but I didn't love him. I would have given him my right testicle, but I wouldn't "live" for him. I simply did not love him.

I was not faithful. But I do not regret anything. I learn. I move on. I don't make the same mistakes twice. It doesn't make me a bad person. It just makes me a person who cannot judge others actions.

I think I have a beautiful body. And I enjoy dancing naked. I adore DOVE for their campaign.

Okay, I suck.

2006-02-15T10:37:00.000-05:00

"MOM! Chuck's making fun of me cause I'm wearing red! and Kris said I suck."

Okay damnit, I admit it. I had a great Valentines day. So sue me. I think I deserved a make-up day for last years episode. (Yah, that one when the STBX told me he wasn't attracted to me, ripped my heart out of my chest and made me hyperventilate. And then proceeded to buy me a Fenton Vase. "Here's a clue buddy, I hate Fenton. Your mom collects Fenton. Not me Idiot!)
But Hey! That's all in the past and the Fenton vase makes a nice toothbrush holder. Yesterday more than made up for it. In fact, I've almost completely forgotten about last year. STBX who? (Fucker.)

So, I battled with my committment to the boycott. I'm usually not a conformist. But I caved. Weak little me started celebrating on Sunday when I picked up a few Valentines cards at the store. One for mom and dad of course. And even one for the kids to give the STBX cause I'm nice like that.

Then Monday, my friend Jen got flowers and a balloon at work so I celebrated with a few jumps and giggles and her giddy self.

Which brings me to the dreaded Tuesday. I chose to wear red and pink to work. (Uck! I know. I must've ate some shrooms the night before or something.) I tried to make myself some coffee but it ended up all over the floor. And to my surprise, I stepped in my office at work and there waited a Triple Latte with a little Valentine note from Jen. Already my day was looking bright and wired. I checked my email throughout the day and I had about 5 Valentines sent to me. I felt so loved. Around 10am the receptionist calls me and tells me I need to come up to see her. I got slammed with several patients just then and couldn't make it out of my office. In the meantime about 3 of the nurses called my extention dying to know who the flowers were from.

"What the frell? I got flowers. At work? Huh?" So I finally made it up to check out my flowers around noon. A lovely bouquet of white lilies, red carnations and red roses in a beautiful red frosted vase with a super soft teddy bear attached to it, was waiting for me. I hate to admit this, cause it makes me all sissified...but my eyes watered a bit. I've NEVER received flowers at work. I've only gotten flowers once on Valentines day ever. (Sure, I got a gawd damned Fenton vase once too. Fucker.)

So you're on the edge of your seats to know who the flowers were from aren't you?
They were from Chuck... KIDDING! That boy wore brown all day.

Actually, my bouquet was from SLJ. I've only filled in a select few about SLJ so far. I haven't said much because I'm almost positive he's too good to be true. I thought that if I even mentioned him, then he would most likely just end up being a figment of my imagination. But I can assure you, he's not.

I met SLJ on the online dating thing. We had a date last week. We most definitely hit it off (I've been very good "ma." This one's different.) I think I may have found the other caramel in the box. I hate to say it. I really do. But I think I've found it. I haven't smushed my finger in it yet to see, but I'm pretty sure it's caramel. I'll savor it a bit longer yet.

So anyways, SLJ sent me my very first bouquet of Valentines flowers to work. (Cross that one off the wish list.) But not only did SLJ send me flowers, he also took me to dinner and a movie last night. Like I said STBX who? UPS man who? Fireman who?

Now you guys don't be getting any ideas...You are still committed to your promises of dancing. Tipping Cows. Rendevous in San Diego. I'm not letting you guys off that easy ya know.

And to top the day off... I received a raise at work. Right on. It was a good day. I needed it.

One magical thing about winter

2006-02-13T15:20:00.000-05:00

They glide out of the box at top speed with a vengence. Buzzers, sirens and bright lights. People scream obsenities to the guys in stripes. There really is an art in tripping and slashing. A fight breaks out and the crowd stands at attention. Broken sticks. Blood on the ice. Four year old little girls screaming "Fight" at the top of their lungs. There's just something about hockey that I adore!
My friend and I took my kids to see their first hockey game (Go Komets). We were just a tad bit late getting to our seats, but the instant the boys glanced at the action on the ice, they were hooked. I saw it in their eyes. "Whoa, SA-WEET!" I felt like the coolest mom, until a fight broke out on the ice and I lifted my youngest son up so he could be witness. I had a slight giggle over that parenting choice. "Here baby, watch the cool guys in uniform slash and knock out each others teeth. Now BOO at the ref who made a bogus call. Oh did you hear that? The girl behind us just screamed 'That SUCKS!'"
Man, I'm such a good mom. I started feeling better when I heard the little girl, a couple seats over, chant "Fight" at the top of her lungs. Then I knew I was among like minded people.
Next on the agenda... a womens boxing match. Oh, the thrill I get when I watch two women punch each other and spit blood!
Don't taboo the freak within. You know it's in you too. Let it out, it's just begging for some good blood on the ice. (This is what we Mid-West people live for when we're not tipping cows. Ha.)

a lucid dream

2006-02-11T13:41:00.000-05:00

I haven't drawn or painted anything for a long time. I used to really enjoy it, but now all I see is a blank canvas and nothing I seem to put there ever seems to feel right.
These pics are of a piece I did last year titled "Upon Reflection of a Lucid Dream." Colored pencils on newsprint...a whim. Nothing special. I did it last February...the pencils just seemed to move in the right spots that day. It's supposed to be of a woman (me) standing naked in front of a mirror and she sees what's going through her head but she just can't seem to grasp it all. Lucidity.
I found this drawing the other day and reflected on it a bit thought I'd share my lucid dream with you. Upon reflection I see that indeed, I have emerged. Whole. New. One. It feels good.

A whole one

2006-02-09T15:10:00.000-05:00

It's okay, I've emerged, detached.It's all okay.What you say.What I say.That's all fine.

She speaks things like I'm two.I know that she doesn't hold a clue.She's never worn these shoes.She's never walked the mile.Her inspiration is over.She did her part.She can't let go.But she will.In time.I've emerged, detached.I will disagree.And that's just fine.Her heart is in the right place.I know she cares.

He doesn't actually listen to me.I just realized that.He says yes and shakes his head, but he doesn't absorb.And that's okay.It was a perfect moment exactly when I needed one.I realized that he most likely can't handle.He's not it.Just another drink, but not the one I ordered.And that's all fine.I'll hold out.I've emerged, detached.

He kisses my neck.Nothing feels better than that.He doesn't judge.I can say it all.What I say.What he says.It's all fine.I realize it's not our time.Or maybe it has been.He helped me walk out.I'd like to think I've helped him too.We're doing our parts.I will disagree.He will leave me and not her.Over and over again.It's all okay.It's exactly how it's supposed to be.He smiles when I say it might be the last time.He will hold my heart forever But indeed it may be the last time.I've emerged, detached.

She drives me insane.Her constant chatter.Her constant judgement.My eyes roll back in my head.Not another day.But it's okay.I love her completely.What I say.What she says.It's okay.I've emerged, detached.

I told him to have a good day.Where did that come from?I didn't plan it.It's just what I said.It's okay.I woke up one day.I will not hate.I will not give.I am in control.I do not sink.I do not expect.He is over.I left.emerged and detached.And it's all okay.

I have never met them. Him, her, him, her, her and him. But I do know them.Kindred spirits.True half selves.Sprinkles all over.Can't hold them all in one place now.One, a la Bono.Cut from the same cloth.I know it's okay to love them.And I do.Truly love them.What I say.What they say.Unspoken, but written.It's all perfect.Too far but so close.Kinda brings it all together.As we emerge all detached but together.Whole.

She listens quietly.She absorbs.She doesn't judge.She counts her blessings.She is beautiful.I make her laugh.We're learning from each other.What I say.What she says.It's all okay.We've emerged, detached.But together.Our time is now.And it's all okay.

I've emerged.I'm detached.I know what I know.I trust it.I thrive on it.I will look back one day acknowledge it at yet another level.Even a higher state of satisfactionI just know that it's all okay.Exactly what I need.Exactly who I am.It's all fine.I've emerged.I'm detached.I'm in love.And I'm okay.

Mardi Gras, Good friends, Good laughs

2006-02-09T10:57:00.000-05:00

Reflection of Mardi Gras and good friends.
About 4 or 5 years ago I had a Mardi Gras party. I'm the notorious party planner. I love decorating, preparing, inventing, minute details all for the sake of a group of people laughing and having fun together. I haven't planned a good party for quite some time now. I'm way overdue. Last one was Halloween 2004 when I made Andi dress up all Goth like and come see my belly dancer agianst her will. But she's an awesome friend and indeed made an appearance, wig, make-up and all.

Anyways, back to the Mardi Gras party...I held this party for my co-workers at the time. I decorated my house in shiny purple and green. Bought tons of beads for everyone to wear (w/out having to show the lady lumps of course.) I bought feathered face masks for everyone. Stocked my kitchen w/ tons of beer, Captain, Vodka, Amaretto and Jack. We played Pictionary, which is always quite interesting when the crowd is toasted. All of my co-workers came too. It was a great office party, even if none of us remember much about it.

The life of the party was my friend Colleen. I miss that woman like crazy! Colleen and I were very different, but had a great friendship. She played a huge part in how I am so open-minded and nothing much surprises me now. Colleen was one of my first lesbian friends. Our relationship was strictly platonic but I adored that woman more than she'll ever know. I mentioned being "messed up in the head" when I was 24/25. Colleen helped me through a lot of hard times back then. She never judged me and always, always made me laugh. No matter what, she could always make me have a good belly laugh.

At this Mardi Gras office party, Colleen indeed made the crowd laugh. She was toasted before she even got to the party. The STBX was a dear and went to pick her up from the local legion so she wouldn't be driving. I wasn't there, but I guess when he arrived at the legion to get her, she did some sort of happy scream when she saw him, hugged him tight and dragged him around the bar to introduce him to everyone. He hardly knew her, but he suffered through it w/ a smile and that meant the world to me. The STBX was never one to go out of his way for any of my friends, Colleen was the one and only exception and that thrilled me. Maybe it was only because she pulled off a mullet better than him or they could trade wardrobes...no matter, it just meant the world to me.

So Colleen finally arrives to the party half lit. Does her rounds, makes everyone laugh a few times. Then she comes out of my bathroom with my sons 101 Dalmations robe on...I swear she looked like an idiot. Everyone lost it. Belly laughs for the whole crowd.

A few months later, Colleen was let go from her job and I didn't see her much after that. I've lost track of her. I think of her often. I wish she could've helped me through this last year. Lord knows I could've used her belly laughs. But I carry her in my heart always. Bottoms up to you Colleen, wherever your life has taken you. Happy Mardi Gras, baby! You're the best! I hope we meet again somewhere on this road of life and have a few more good belly laughs!

How to get where you're going w/out turning left

2006-02-08T10:14:00.000-05:00

My left turn signal doesn't work. About a year ago it was intermittent. It would only work sometimes, mostly when I re-adjusted the steering column. Then I had my water pump replaced and viola' my turn signal worked again. It worked for an entire 15 months straight. Now, it doesn't work again. So I have this problem where I can't turn left because someone is always right on my bumper and I'm afraid they won't see my brake lights flashing frantically warning them. I'm afraid they won't hear me hang my head out the window and scream "LEFT." I'm afraid they won't see my arm fly out the window and make the shape of an "el" with my thumb and forefinger. So I do everything in my power not to turn left. It's very difficult going left when you can only go right. (The right turn signal works just fine.)
I needed to turn left the other night, off of a very busy road. I couldn't. I missed my turn and instead turned right down the next road. Then I had to turn around in someones drive. So then to get back where I wanted to go, I had to turn left again. No can do...so I went straight down a back road which wound around to where I needed to go. Perfect. Except for the fact that a 2 minute trip took me 10 minutes due to the "How to get where you're going without turning left 101" crash course. Oh...crash probably isn't a good choice in words there.
My last car, the one that should have been totalled when that jerk hit me and ran...that cars turn signal didn't work either (that's not what caused the accident however.) When I called Pontiac to inquire about a recall, they said that the recall hadn't been issued yet, it wasn't due out for another couple of months. I could take it and have it fixed at my expense and then when they issued the recall I may or may not be reimbursed for it. To which my comment was "maybe I'll wait on the recall issue. Hopefully I won't be in a bad accident and die because of a faulty turn signal between now and then" and hung up. That was right before the hit and run which bent my frame. When they decided that it wasn't to be "totalled" I got it fixed and traded it in on the Jeep. And later found out the Jeeps turn signal didn't work.
On the Jeep so far, I've replaced the water pump. Replaced the front end tie rods (that were hanging on by sheer luck and the grace of gawd.) Bought a new set of tires (and have had one already replaced due to the 3 inch spike they found in it.) Now my transmission is sticking in 2nd...takes me forever to get up to speed, while I say a quick prayer that my transmission won't drop out right then and there. (I had a transmission flush which didn't help the problem at all.) And now...I can't turn left. It's really causing some serious anxiety. Why don't I take it and have it fixed you ask? Because that takes money that I don't have (probably the money I spent on my casino trip. Ug. Guilt.) And I will also not have a car for a number of days while its being fixed. I don't have an extra car and I live 45 minutes from where I work. No buses. No taxi's. Not riding my bike in the snow.
I'd really like to just go trade it in on something small and cheap like a Kia or something. But I can't do any type of loan rearranging while the divorce is pending.
So my options are to either find and date a mechanic or trade my Jeep in on a horse. I'm voting on the horse. It probably smells better and smiles when I give it apples. D'oh.
I cursed last night when this punk flew through a red light. "Damnit, why couldn't I have been sitting in the middle of the road right then. Geesh. I have the worst timing."
I'm thinking of taking a trip down to "the hood." I always leave my keys in my car...hint hint. Note to self: Get CD's out of vehicle.
And that state trooper was making fun of the sage I had in my windshield and smiled kindly when I said something about "bad energy." Shows what he knows. That sage kept me from getting a ticket that day. So La de da.
Honestly, right now I just don't have the energy to deal with this. I'm tired. I really just want something to be easy peasy. I'm exhausted from making desicions.
Yah, a horse is probably my best bet. Then everyone can say "Hey look, there goes that crazy Carol Chen riding her horse to work" as I stop at the latte kiosk at the car wash just off the highway.

Blissful Birthdays

2006-02-07T16:40:00.000-05:00

I've scoured the depths of my brain and have recovered a few very distinct birthdays from my past. I remember my Eleventh birthday. My family was in the process of moving from Michigan to Indiana. I was in the fifth grade. I had no friends in Indiana yet. I had one very close friend named Christie Majewski in Michigan. Her and her mother decided to throw me a suprise birthday party. I got to stay with them for a day or two in Michigan during this moving process. They made me a birthday cake (which the their dog took a nice chunk out of.) They invited over a few of my other close friends and suprise! It was a party. One of the best birthdays I ever had. We dressed like rock stars and sang at the top of our lungs to that one song "Heaven is a place on earth." I had the best time. It meant alot to me.
My Thirteenth birthday. My brother was in critical condition at the hospital. I think my mom made a chocolate cake for me a few days later. My brother survived and is alive and well now. But it was very stressful and very scary. I never wanted to be an only child. That's the point in my life where I actually started loving my older brother.
Skip ahead a few years...
My 21st birthday. I'm actually suprised I remember it. Lots and lots of alcohol. I went out with my brother, the STBX and the FIL. They got me so very drunk. The last thing I remember really is the FIL handing me a "snake bite" and saying "You can't be a member of the family until you do one of these." I succumbed to peer pressure easily then. I didn't waste a second looking into his eyes, licking that salt off and slamming that shot. That was right after the sour apple pucker shot courtesy of the bartender. Can someone please remind me why I wanted so bad to be part of his family? Of course no family members were around the next day as I shampooed vomit out of my hair and threw away my pillow. Bastards.
My 25th birthday. This one was a really weird one. I was a little messed up in the head then (Yah, I know like I'm not now...) I was thrilled to find out that one of my brothers friends had the same birthday. So we decided to spend it together, a bunch of us (mostly men) ended up at the strip club. Two different clubs in fact. I didn't mind. I'm a very open-minded person, it didn't phase me much. I shared my cigar with the stripper who gave the STBX a lap dance. I was pretty messed up in the head that night. I ended up in the womens restroom having a breakdown and my brother followed me in and talked me through it. We won't go into the whys and hows of the breakdown. I was pretty messed up in the head then. I might blog about that some other day when I'm feeling really brave. Too many ramifications still.
Last year...
My 28th birthday. Okay so I was a little messed up in the head then too, but that was all over the STBX and doesn't matter much now. Anyways, I remember a quiet dinner w/ Ken and Andi and our favoritest restaurant The Cork. I say quiet because I had laryngitis that night. I thought my throat and my chest were going to explode, but that didn't stop Ken and Andi from making me laugh. I remember that I talked Andi into wearing her black hooker shirt. The one with the key hole right on her cleavage. She was hot. Meanwhile I wore my cable knit turtleneck sweater. Gawd, how awful of me. Hee hee. After we left The Cork, the STBX and I met up w/ my brother at a local dive. I sat on a bar stool literally dying from my throat and chest pain. But damnit, it was my birthday and I wanted to feel special. I remember running into an old friend from highschool and how she filled me in on her recent divorce. I remember her saying that she didn't recommend single motherhood. Hmmm. Single motherhood versus blowing your brains out because some arogant asshole wants you to look like a playboy bunny. It took a few months, but I chose single motherhood. Probably a wise choice no matter what my old highschool friend said.

So there you have it...the birthdays I remember:
1. Singing along to "Heaven is a place on Earth" celebrating the last time I would see my best friends.
2. Seeing my brother w/ tubes and ventilators in any hole and crevice they could find to put them in.
3. Wanting so bad to be a "part of the family" that I suffered through washing vomit out of my hair.
4. Having a breakdown in the womens bathroom at a strip club.
5. Having laryngitis and choosing between single motherhood or self inflicted gun shot wound.

Who's freakin depressed now? When I was younger...my great grandmother fell and broke her hip on one of my birthdays and on another occasion my aunts husband left her.
Lord, maybe I should be boycotting my birthday instead of Valentines day...
No worries, this year it's going to be different because Stephanies coming to my party!!!
But seriously, I think I'm doing something right for once, my head is pretty well screwed on straight, I feel good, so hopefully the cycle has been broken.Chocolate cake sounds good. I want candles too damnit.

For Chuck

2006-02-07T10:32:00.000-05:00

This one is for Chuck because I hit every gawd damned red light on my way to work this morning and because he's missed.
A fucking Valentine.
I read this last night and thought of you Chuck, so I had to post it.
Please forgive me.
The Warmth
In my mouth
That rush
Through my veins
Making my heart race
My pulse quicken
My head-
Just a bit dizzy.
My legs-
Just a bit numb.
My tongue
Yearns for more
More of you
Right now.
NOW.
I can't wait anymore.
This is torture.
Seriously.
I'm in hell
Waiting for you.
I just want to shout
To this GIANT crowd of people
"How hard is it to make a latte, fuckers?"
I love you coffee.

For you Chuck! Much love in this dreaded month of a made up fucking holiday.
You can stab me in the liver w/ a toothpick later for violating the boycott. Winka Winka.

messy random waves

2006-02-06T16:22:00.000-05:00

If you need water, I'll be your river. - Cyndi Lauper

Here's a tip: If you've consumed a half bottle of wine, do not mess w/ that hang nail on your finger. It will bleed, and bleed and bleed. Not pretty. Might want to wait till your blood has thickened up again.

I'm a people observer. I love to watch people and try to soak up all their unspoken thoughts and assign them feelings based on their actions. It's a gift really. Oh frell, what do I know? I'm just blabbering some stupid shit here.

I went out to dinner with the parents on Friday. We like to frequent this local chinese buffet. Mmmm. Love the chinese food. There's this little chinese guy, Carl, that runs the joint. He's probably around my age somewhere. He's a nice guy. Friendly. He loves my parents. He loves it even more when I'm with my parents. He oogled me Friday. He looked me up and down. Not kidding. My dad even saw it and started calling me Carol Chen. Not that we're racist or mean to be derogatory...my dad knew how uncomfotable I was and just found it funny that little chinese Carl at the chinese buffet obviously was "checking me out" hard core. I'm sure Carl is a nice man. He's friendly...his eyes are very friendly. He's got a good thing going on with his buffet w/ moo shoo pork. Carl's just not my type and I'm afraid I can't ever go back to the chinese buffet. Maybe I'll move on to the Indian restaurant. I feel fairly un-oogled there. Or the Mexican restaurant, Juan at least has a great smile and he's never oogled me. That I know of. He has said a few things in spanish that I'm not entirely sure about...hmmm. I'm totally kidding here. This is my alter ego talking, just ignore her. I'm really not a ho in the international community of restaurants. Well mostly I'm kidding, I really don't think I can go back to the chinese buffet. I prefer my egg rolls w/ a side of lo mein, no lo-oogle.

I was waiting in the car outside the local Wal-Mart the other day. I try to stay away from the local Wal-Mart as much as possible. It always seems that I feel the need to look down every isle for people I might not want to see before stepping foot in the isle. It's a small town...did I mention I'm trying to get out? Not that I'm running from anything. I don't have any regrets and I've never done much of anything stupid that would make me look bad. It's just the fact that this is the Mid-West and there are a lot of closed minded people who like to know every little detail about your private life. If they want to know that...they can just visit my journal site huh.

Man, my alter ego is kicking ass and taking names today...whew...someone get her a drink.

Anyways...there was a point to this...Sitting outside Wal-Mart, I spotted this woman who jumped out of her car and met a man in the middle of the parking lot. She said something cheesy like "Do you come here often" then they smiled deeply, grabbed hands and the guy started swinging hands back and forth. It was adorable. I think I actually said, "Awww" out loud. They were happy and adored each other and that was so nice to see. Of course after entering Wal-Mart, I'll bet money that he went to either the sporting goods or automotive while she picked up her tampons and toilet bowl cleaner. But HEY! Whatever works right.

This morning I saw a note on the kitchen counter. A note from my dad to my mom. Evidentally she had sent him on an errand after his work shift to pick up chocolate chips and some other goodies so she could make cookies...Well, the poor guy couldn't find the chocolate chips but he didn't come home empty handed. He substituted m&m's. Smart man. And not only that...this note on the counter was actually a lovely little poem about how he looked hard for chocolate chips and hoped she'd accept his m&m's instead. It was cute. It was very sweet. There's no possible way she could be disappointed w/ m&m's. That's my dad. He's a truly great man he is. Such a romantic. I'm sure that's where I get my hopeless romantisism.

Let me digress here...I once got a note from the STBX. It was when I was in college. We hardly ever saw each other. He worked second shift. I went to school all day (9a-9p) and worked weekends. I was having a really stressful time juggling two kids, a marriage, a mortgage, a job and a hope for a degree. He must have sensed something wrong because I came home one day to a carnation and a home-made card that said something about how he knows he didn't always show his support and affection but that he truly loved me. I broke down in tears. I really needed that card. I kept that card for years. I referred to it often. I clung to it. I don't even know where it is now. It doesn't matter now. But kudos for him and kudos for me for remembering something nice.

So, Twenty days until my birthday party. Who's coming? I think I finally talked my friends out of going to the stip club. Pla-Leeze...that was so like 25th birthday. I'm a person that has to have a nostalgic T-shirt for a major occasion. I have high hopes that this party will also be my divorce party. So the shirt...on one side..."spank me it's my birthday" and on the other side "I just dropped 150lbs. of ass. His name was Eric." I know...how do I do it? From one random wave of nostalgic bliss to another random wave of cruel intentions. It's all good.

But, no, seriously...who's coming to the party? Oh, okay then. Fine. I understand. No one really wants to come to the Mid-West mid February and celebrate with someone they've never met and who calls herself "Tiny Dancer." It's okay. I get it. Long distance support only. Wussy.

Dire straights

2006-02-05T11:37:00.000-05:00

For the life of me I can't remember what I was going to blog about. I arrived home at 2:30 this morning w/ something on my mind, but instead of blogging about it...I went to bed. Now, I'm up...I've had my bowl of cereal...I've traveled to all my favorite blogs...I've checked my (very intriguing) emails. Now...I'm padding back off to bed to nurse my red wine & UPS man hangover. Dating sucks.
Can someone please make me a cup or five of coffee, cause I just can't. Oh and while you're at it...a quick shower would be nice too.

Ladies and Gentlemen...Mr. Walt Whitman

2006-02-04T15:21:00.000-05:00

I nearly had a panic attack the other day thinking about my future. My near future that is. You see, I have all these plans. I have timelines. And then something happens and I start to doubt that my plans and timelines will not be met. I panic. But, But... And I try to talk myself down. Trust the process Dancer. You're plan may not be THE plan. But things will work out. Just be in the now. Trust. - Honestly, I'm hanging on by threads here. But if there is one thing about me...I don't give up easily. I will hang.

I have a huge book on American Poetry. Sometimes, right before bed usually, I open the big book and most often than not, there is a poem that is meant for me. Here I give you pieces of last nights poem. (Feel free to absorb it and take it to heart. My gift to you in your own ebb and flow.)

As I Ebb'd with the Ocean of Life

As I wend to the shores I know not,
As I list to the dirge, the voices of men and women wreck'd,
As I inhale the impalpable breezes that set in upon me,
As the ocean so mysterious rolls toward me closer and closer,
I too but signify at the utmost a little wash'd-up drift,
A few sands and dead leaves to gather,
Gather, and merge myself as part of the sands and drift.

Tufts or straw, sands, fragments,
Buoy'd hither from many moods, one contradicting another,
From the storm, the long calm, the darkness, the swell,
Musing, pondering, a breath, a briny tear, a dab of liquid or soil,
Up just as much out of fathomless workings fermented and thrown,
A limp blossom or two, torn, just as much over waves floating, drifted at random,
Just as much for us that sobbing dirge of Nature,
Just as much whence we come that blare of the cloud-trumpets,
We, capricious, brought hither we know not whence, spread out before you
You up there walking or sitting,
Whoever you are, we too lie in drifts at your feet.
- Walt Whitman

How not to become a stalker: Lesson # UNO

2006-02-02T17:10:00.000-05:00

The thing about girls is that they have this thing called EMOTIONS. This thing called EMOTIONS often gets in the way and causes periods of delusion. It's like the whole palm tree in the desert thing. It looks like it's there, but it's not. Where am I going with this? Ah yes.

EMOTIONS. That one bad sentence every girl utters at least one time in her life which make men want to tuck tail and run..."Let's talk about feelings."
Recently, a friend of mine, and I'm not saying who (you nasty slut) hooked up with a guy. (Please forgive me for telling this story but it must be told to save every other dating girl. You are a martyr. You are a slut, but you are a martyr too. Way to take one for the team.) She's kinda new to this whole dating thing just like myself. Let's just say, I'm learning from her mistakes.

Anyways, she finds this guy. They have known each other a whole week. They have actually been around each other a matter of 8 or 9 hours TOTAL. In the matter of that 8 or 9 hours they've talked about their families, their past relationships, their goals etc... They have flirted non-stop. From what I hear, it got pretty hot and heavy. She gave me the details of course, but for her sake I'll spare them here. So she spends some "quality" time with this guy (if you know what I mean) and from what I hear it was well worth it. They watch a movie afterwards, everything is fine. He has plans that evening, so she leaves and they are both on their merry way.
The next day is when her emotions set in. All mixed up. She starts tearing herself apart. She starts thinking about what a "slut" she's become. OMG. She just slept with a guy she barely knows. Now girls, you're all with me now aren't ya. We've all been there. (As everyone shakes their heads yes and giggles.) We've all had that moment of weakness when we let the emotions step in the way. I've heard some stories about how women have told the man that she "loved him" on the third date. We're all thinking of that freaky chic on Wedding Crashers now. "Don't ever leave me cause I'll find you." Girls, admit it, we've all been that freaky girl. I'll admit...when I was dating DK I told him that "I thought I was falling in love with him" and that was after about two months of dating him. (Give me a break it was a rebound.) It didn't take long for the "relationship" to fizzle out after that. Come to find out, I was more "in love" with the six bars of smelly good soap in his shower.
Anyways, back to the story. She freaks. She sends him this "feelings email" with good intentions of course. (Sorry, sweetie but it's funny.) She begins to tell him how she's feeling a little "funky" after their little rendevous. She states how she's not just looking for "a good time." She admits that more than anything she wants a relationship. She does put the clause in there that she doesn't neccasarily mean with him. But none the less she begins to tell him her feelings and what she wants and if he's not open to that then she needs to know now. She wants "passion" and a "deeper level."
And then she hits the send button. The instant she sent it she called me and freaked out. OMG! She knew she had done the freaky girl thing. OMG! How was she ever going to get out of this one? So me and some other good friends try to coach her through it. We tell her we've all been there done that. We make her laugh about it. We tell her to play it off. Say it was just a test. How he handles it will give her a really good glimpse into this guys heart. Will he play along? Will he not even respond to it at all? Will he file for a restraining order? Will he fall off of the face of the earth? This will tell her if he's worthy or not. So she let the emotions slide in there for a little bit. It's okay. The damage can be reversed we promise her.
She ends up doing very well at addressing it with this guy. She plays it off, she laughs about it. Do you want to know what his response was? I fear that from his response he isn't worthy... he is the guy that makes all other guys look bad. Sorry gentlemen, but he laughed and agreed that she was indeed a "freak." In fact thats his new nickname for her. Freak. He laughed about it and said that he "was waiting for her to tell him what kind of ring she wanted." (Okay, that one's funny, I'll give him that.) And then he proceeded to tell her it was okay, that she was "just disillusioned by his cock." Yes. I shit you not, he said that.
See this is why all of us single people need a dating handbook. Dating for dummies. What not to say on a first date. That's why I'm telling this story. We could all learn a valuable lesson from this.
Girls...when those emotions creep up and you feel the need to share them...give it a day or two to process before hitting send. When in doubt send it to your girlfriends first. Show it to your brother. Do whatever you need to do, but PLEASE just don't fall prey.
Guys...be sensitive and please (for your own sake) don't tell her she was disillusioned by your cock. For real. Just be honest. She just yanked out her liver and showed it to you now be respectful and show her yours. It's the least you can do.
And that...guys and gals...is lesson #UNO in my new "How not to become a stalker, dating handbook."

The bad box

2006-02-02T12:06:00.000-05:00

Expanding further on the bad box of chocolates. (I may sooo get in trouble for this, but it's not my fault they're bad.) Besides, Kris started it and now I'm on a roll.
1. The Asshole Chocoalte. Something about that chocolate just seemed so good. For the life of me, I can't remember what exactly, but I'm sure there must've been something. It was always kinda bitter a little on the shallow, I mean sour, side. But Hey! Sour's not so bad. It could be worse. So you stick with the sour chocolate. You try to always look past the sour. You try to enjoy it. You try to savor it. Then one day the sour turns to a very distinct flavor of asshole. (Not that I know what asshole tastes like. I can't get past the smell. Not that I sniff it either. Hey! Leave me alone...I'm in the medical profession. I know what asshole smells like okay.) Anyways, sour turns distinctly to asshole. Asshole chocolate thinks that it's the best thing since sliced bread. Asshole chocolate is never wrong. Asshole chocolate makes you feel like, well, shit. Asshole chocolate makes you want to slam your Jeep into a light pole. Asshole chocolate makes you want to burn the garage down. Asshole chocolate is indeed not very good. So you spit it out. Rinse and gurgle a few times and move on.
2. The String Cheese Chocolate. The String Cheese chocolate is an old friend that you run into every now and again. It's a very pretty chocolate. You could easily see yourself savoring this chocolate for a long time. String Cheese Chocolate likes to shop. In fact it likes to shop more than the average chocolate of the opposite sex. It has more clothes in it's closet than anyone you know. It also has six bars of smell good soap in it's shower and sleeps on flowered sheets. But you look past it. String cheese isn't so bad. But then finally the taste of the string cheese along with the milk chocolate finally hits the wrong taste bud. Nasty. What on earth were you thinking? String cheese and chocolate? As if. So you spit that one out too. Rinse and gurgle a few times. After a short pause you go back to the box of chocolates. You know Caramel is in there somewhere.
3. Which brings you to the Chocolate on Chocolate. You take a little nibble. Mmmm. Das good no? Chocolate on chocolate is attractive. Chocolate on chocolate is very stable. Chocolate on chocolate has a good job. You wonder if maybe it's chocolate on chocolate you've been craving. But then chocolate on chocolate tells you it's kinda stuck on someone else. Ohhh. Right. If it's too good to be true then it probably is. But you only took a nibble so maybe you'll go back for more later.
4. In the meantime you find The Cock Chocolate. I mean The Hot chocolate. (heh heh heh) Hot chocolate talks the good talk. For some reason he has made you think he's romantic. Makes you think he's stable. Hot chocolate knows the art of phone sex. Yuppers. Hot chocolate can make you cum on the phone. Whoa. (TMI?) So you bite into Hot chocolate hoping for a little caramel and...wait what's this...Hot chocolate has turned into curdled, discolored milk. Um. GROSS! Spit it out! You may come back to Hot chocolate and nibble at the corners a bit. You're not sure yet. You're still not over the whole phone sex thing. That was fun. As long as you keep in mind that there is definitely curdled, discolored milk inside you should be okay.

This whole time you're thinking about The Caramel Chocolate. You want it so bad you can taste it. You've had a nibble of The Caramel Chocolate, but you're forbidden to sink your teeth into it. You pray that there's maybe more than one in the box. Ug. You pray "Please, please don't let that be the only Caramel Chocolate." You think about that first Caramel chocolate ALL THE TIME. It promises there's another in the box. It's says it's really not all that good. (It only says that because it's been beaten down so bad.)

Anyways...you hold out hope for another Caramel Chocolate. You know you'll get it one day. But it really sucks that you have to go through all of the other bad chocolates to find it.

Let's chalk it up to a learning experience shall we?
So far you've learned that you shouldn't settle for sour. Sour turns to ass. You need to put ass in it's place.
You've also learned that if a chocolate has six bars of smelly good soap in it's shower and shops more than you do than it's probably really string cheese. Don't go there. See the warning signs.
You then nibbled on chocolate on chocolate. You learned how to back off and protect yourself from any possible harm there. I'm very proud of you for that one. Very proud. You might even be rewarded with another nibble or two from chocoalte on chocolate.
Then, you learned that some chocolates worlds revolve around their cock. You made a few mistakes, but that's okay, you're learning. No biggie.l You did learn the art of phone sex.

At this point, you're not frustrated. You're kind of laughing about the experiences you've had w/ chocolate. You're somewhat disappointed, sure, but as long as you keep rinsing and gurgling, you'll do just fine. You may even publish a self help book one day on bad chocolates.

Lyrics

2006-02-02T10:22:00.000-05:00

I've found an awesome radio station that doesn't fade out on my 45 min. trek to work. It's a variety, but mostly 80's, which totally excites me.
I've listened to Tom Petty tell me I "don't have to live like a refugee."
I've listened to Prince (or formely known as) sing "Purple Rain." I totally love that song.
I've heard how "all the school kids are so sick of books, they like to punk in the metal band. They've got the groove. Oh way oh. They're walking like an Egyptian."
I've learned that "I'm not scared of too many things. I know what I want, if you know what I mean. Push me in the shallow water, before I get too deep."
It's been fun. It's been a real trip! It's brought back many memories. Like, dude. Fun times. It's really made the distance between work and home much more bearable.
(place mental picture of me cruising along, singing at the top of my lungs, bobbing my head to the rythym here)

I happened upon another song that I have never heard. Broken Road by Rascal Flatts. This is such a beautiful song. If I ever find my caramel chocolate, this will be my theme song.
Bless The Broken Road Lyrics
I set out on a narrow way many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you
Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you
I think about the years I spent just passing through
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you
But you just smile and take my hand
You've been there you understand
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true
Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you
Now I'm just rolling home
Into my lover's arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you.

I'm weeping...isn't that beautiful...and to "hear" it is just that much better. Okay, so I'm a sappy romantic. So what?

FYI: Andrew the fireman is definitely not my caramel chocolate. Nope. Nadda. Makes for an utterly boring story that I won't tell here. But in further news... after a month, Darin, the UPS man (NYE blind date)...called me. Wants to get together Saturday night. Hmm. I'm down with that.

Rare form

2006-01-31T16:10:00.000-05:00

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

2006-01-31T14:10:00.000-05:00

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

2006-01-30T22:55:00.000-05:00

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

2006-01-27T10:42:00.000-05:00

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

2006-01-25T13:35:00.000-05:00

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!

2006-01-24T17:18:00.000-05:00

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

2006-01-24T10:22:00.000-05:00

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.