So one of my readers told me, "Jessie, I wish you'd stick to one subject."
And my immediate response, and the one that I will always give, is "Why? There are so many amazing subjects on the planet to chose from!"
Yes, for the most part I talk about myself....
Hence, blogging.
Online journaling for the whole world to see. If you don't like something what I say, you're the one who came here voluntarily.
Say it with me now: Vol-un-tary.
In other words, and a much less tactful way to put it: Don't like it, FUCK OFF!
So, on to the show.
When your computer charger and the cord to your vibrator are entwined together next to your bed to the point of practically being conjoined twins, do you possibly have a bigger problem than just untangling cords? Asking for a friend.
Wow, 325 page views in the 48 hours since I looked at this account last. Am I creating repeat followers? I don't know, y'all don't say much to me so I don't have much of a clue who reads. Feel free to, by the way. I'm open to answering questions.
Saturday I was not in a happy place. More frustrated than unhappy. One of those times where you can't place your finger on what's driving you nuts, but there it is nonetheless. A dark passenger following you around and saying all the things you don't want to hear.
Or did I?
Anyway, it got me what I needed; laughter, good conversation, and apparently as I'm looking through my phone this afternoon, a list on all the things NOT to do while messaging someone in an online dating site that I drunkenly produced on my sticky note app.
1. Accept the fact that people lie online about most things. Listing off how tired you are of being lied to is not going to stop this. You also will not get what you want out of a relationship when you instantly accuse someone as being "just like everyone else". With most things, if you want honesty, you're going to have to give it. And even then, you're pretty much just hoping for the best.
2. Do not tell someone that you have never met before in your life that you love them. Like, in the first sentence of your very first message to them. Things might get weird after that.
3. Do not post pictures with anyone BUT yourself in them. This goes for obscure group shots where nobody can pinpoint just which beefy stud muffin you are, pictures of your children and especially not with other women. I might give a pass to those next to those at something like Comic-Con or with a porn star. Well, because everyone should have a healthy appreciation for porn.
4. OK, we get it. EVERYONE is looking for a new adventure. Something new and fun. I find just going into my closet to be an adventure to see if I'm going to wear pants today. Eating anything smothered in cheese is fun too. Not just climbing mountains. I prefer fun of the "no possibility of breaking every bone in my body" persuasion, K. The fact that I'm taking a chance and meeting a complete stranger who could be an admirer of Ted Bundy for all I know, cut me some slack.
5. Accept the fact that after a week of chatting online, if you have not scored a number or at the least plans to meet, it isn't going to happen. Personally, I'm busy and really don't have time to waste on a computer. I've got shit to do.
6. I'm booting your ass to the curb at the first mention of sex before I've even met you. I didn't always have this standard, but if you want something you've never had before, you've got to do something you've never done before. I am most likely the least PG rated person you've ever met in your life, but it is never going to get past that point if you don't pump the brakes a little.
7. Don't be a douchebag. Just because I'm not interested and honest about it doesn't make it OK for you to call me every name in the book. Kiss your mother with that mouth? Jaded prick. It's not my fault that you have such little respect for yourself and clearly other human beings that you feel the need to type your douchebaggery right out there in the open.
8. And speaking of, I said pump the brakes, not slam on them. Just because I don't have any desire to be a hook up or someone you can lie to doesn't mean that I'm not a human being. Friends? Let's be.
With that said, these are all lessons that I picked up in my online dating saga. Which is now gladly over. I am in a relationship currently. No, I'm not going to talk about it here. Time and place y'all.
Lessons learned this week, for myself and everyone else:
My alcohol tolerance is just like riding a bicycle, according to Saturday.
12 year old boys are disgusting.
Once I start cleaning, I can't stop and Goodwill is going to be very happy with my donation very soon. As will the local transfer station, aka Town Dump.
Today, when I said "Lite cream cheese" on my bagel at D&D, I didn't mean nearly non-existent. If you have questions about that or are unclear on the products that your company offers you should clarify. This girl likes her some cream cheese on her bagel, just the one that isn't going make her ass giggle for a week after one bite.
When you attempt to get on a regular schedule and coordinate not only yourself but 2 therapists and everyone else, shit is going to hit the fan at the beginning of the week just because you got comfortable and forgot to write one stupid appointment down because, of course you'll remember it. Write. It. Down. Even if you completely forget where you wrote it and find it a week later. It's a month sooner than you would have remembered it otherwise!
Technology and I are not friends. This is not new. Stop trying.
Standing up for what you want out of life is never a bad thing. Even more so when it comes to relationships. Things are going very well in that department, by the way :)
Time management is always easier on paper. Traffic is a bitch. And then there's always that long lost coworker who wants to chat life when you've run to the grocery store for the third time because you forgot brown sugar for the roasted squash and that is the only possible way on the planet to eat it.
I love me some fall season. In the sense that I much prefer it to any other and would love to live in a place that it's this way for most of the year. With that said, Pumpkin Spice anything is an abomination in anything other than something containing actual pumpkin. Pumpkin spice coffee at D&D tastes like baked goods that were liquefied for the toothless elderly and then vomited up by a cat. Nope. Just say no was invented for a reason, and I'm sure it was by someone like Marty McFly going back to the future and tried one of these damn things.
I have the next two days off and plan to have lots of shenanigans that I can tell you about later and probably some that I can't because you would need a mental cheese grater. For real, I should get paid for every thing I don't tell you. For now I'm going to finish my clearance sale Razzarita and take an 8 hour nap.
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Sunday, October 4, 2015
"You're Not....."
"....a pain in my ass."
7 words.
Words that you don't know how badly you needed to hear them until they hit your ears like a symphony.
That, and "I'm coming over."
Friday I was a wreck. Like a hot mess that blew up and then glued itself back together only to end up looking like a Picasso.
In my previous post, I said that I said something out loud that I hadn't talked about before. I had talked about it, with the one person that I needed to talk to on Friday.
February 2014. My hair was not cooperating and keeping the color that I kept dying it. A few months before I decided to go a deep red and nothing I would do would get rid of it, and on top of that I'm a natural blonde. It wasn't pretty. I realized that I hadn't seen my natural hair color since I was 14 years old. I also accepted the reason why.
I hated myself. Every time I felt inadequate, unloved, judged, I would change. Because something deep down inside said that if I did, then I might finally be enough. I was an addict. I couldn't stop. My philospohy (with everything but myself, of course) is that if there is a problem, that you get right down to the root of the problem, stop the bleeding and then fix it.
I cut my chest length hair off into a pixie cut and decided that I was going to keep cutting it until all the dyed hair was gone and it was back down to my shoulders again.
It was not easy. Especially when for about 6 months you have red tips, blonde roots, and something you can't describe going on in between. Add to that medical mystery fun and a roller coaster of a relationship, saute that until I'm losing my mind. Add people who don't understand why you're doing it, and then add one spiteful person who with every haircut that showed just how blonde you really are who keeps accusing you of dying your hair. Throw a million coupons and fantastic deals for dye into that mix. Sprinkle it all with self-loathing just for good measure.
And then there was getting to the root of the problem. Growing up, my hair was gorgeous. But teenage girls are bitches, and when the boys that they want like you because you "look like Barbie" you are instantly ridiculed. And then from ages 9-12 I had braces. I was tormented all through my childhood. I love making people happy and at every turn, I was always coming up short. In my early 20's it was multiple things that led me to use alcohol and sleeping around as a coping mechanism. Today, as a single parent with a stress level through the roof at most times and a million plates spinning at the same time and one wrong move is going to make them all fall, it was really hard to go through the process alone. I did what I needed to do to get through it. I lived. I learned a lot about myself. I still have days where I want to do something drastic again. I can't go into the dye isle of any store yet.
And I understand that most people don't get it. For most of society, changing your hair is a healthy process full of self love and fun - as it should be. Using it as a coping mechanism to hide from what is really bothering you isn't. Yes, I appreciate the fact that you don't understand that this is something that is possible as an addiction. However, this isn't your story. It's mine.
Me, age 4
February 2014, the first pixie cut and last time I dyed my hair.
1.5 months later, driving me crazy because the blonde is starting to show in random places.
Completely dye free, October 2014
Darkened up through the winter, but still dye free.
Me, this past Tuesday after work.
"I said it. I said it to someone other than just between you and I. Every time I felt inadequate, unloved, judged, stressed to the max, I would change. Because something deep down inside said that if I did, then I might finally be enough. And now I'm in the same boat again and I have no outlet for it and I don't know what to do. I'm sorry I'm being such a pain in your ass."
I am blown away. I don't know what to say about Friday other than I'm glad I finally wasn't alone. This person knows who they are, and I cannot thank them enough.
"And she looked in the mirror and told herself in no uncertain terms, that she was okay with who she was then and who she is now." Myself
Friday, October 2, 2015
Rain Rain Go Away
Strangers in the night exchanging glances
Wond'ring in the night what were the chances
We'd be sharing love before the night was through
Wond'ring in the night what were the chances
We'd be sharing love before the night was through
Something in your eyes was so inviting
Something in you smile was so exciting
Something in my heart told me I must have you.....
Something in you smile was so exciting
Something in my heart told me I must have you.....
This afternoon brought to you by instrumental jazz standards being piped into the lobby at work. Which I must admit that I love much better than Disney music.
I'm trying my best to be pleasant. Both of my kids are sick and didn't want me to go to work. I need brakes on the car. Or rather I need them changed, I have the parts. I want to cry. I want to be home. Everything is coming to a head and I just need a friggin' hug. Or sex. Or alcohol. Or one of those drunken hugs that turns into sex.
Wednesday it rained cats and dogs in my neck of the woods. I was looking forward to a day off but I got called into work on 3 hours of sleep. I narrowly missed the bridge on my commute home being flooded by 20 minutes and made it home just in time for the beginning of my basement flooding. It was coming in faster than the sump pump could get it out. I got the "brilliant" idea to dump the water into the washing machine and put it on spin so it would suck it out through the septic. It worked like a charm. I was pretty impressed with myself. My back is not very happy about it but nothing exploded so it'll just have to deal. The roads are collapsed in several places. I've seen the area flood before, nothing like this.
Had the worst experience of my life yesterday at the doctor's. No new information, not a single one of my doctors can come to the same conclusion as to what is wrong with me, so my doctor had no idea why the Surgeon's paperwork they gave me after my procedure last week said the really awful things that I'm worried about. So another call to the specialists and waiting game. Yesterday afternoon was a complete waste of time. The only thing that I do feel better about is that the biopsy results came back negative for cancer.
Even more of a waste of my time is wishing things were different. For someone who has always loved solitude, it is the one thing that I would stab repeatedly if it could take living form. Feeling like you are completely alone in the world is not an enjoyable feeling. I ended up so wound up from stress that I was up until midnight cleaning and drinking. Bright side, my house looks good and the basement is almost dried up.
It's almost frustrating and relaxing at the same time when you just went completely through the house 2 weeks ago and had a huge yard sale, only to stress clean later and fill 2 more totes full of stuff.
Note to self: buy more blueberry vodka.
I have wallowed so much lately and I am done doing it. I was going to accomplish many things. I still plan to. Had to cancel dinner plans with a friend, but it worked to my advantage. It's my turn to cook and now I'll have time to start apple butter tomorrow. I also want to go apple picking again Monday while the kids are in school. I've been feeling like I need to do some things alone just to prove I'm still capable of doing so. Hence the wallowing...feeling very unlike my usual can do anything self, things out of my control and all that jazz. I digress.
I said something out loud for the first time when I took my son out to breakfast this morning. It was in regards to why I decided to stop dying my hair. I was in a semi-pleasant mood this morning but this brought out feelings I wasn't ready for and with no other way to put it, I managed to fail at holding it together. I think that has a lot to do with what's wrong with me today. It's a whole other post.
Sunday, September 27, 2015
Fight For Your Right To Party...Responsibly
Yesterday I posted a funny comment that my son said about my IV site. I got some shit for it.
Let me start off by saying, that I agree that children knowing anything about drug abuse is horrifying. However, the world that we live in today, makes it absolutely necessary. Especially when, statistically speaking, at least 1/3 of drug and alcohol experimentation starts before high school.
One third.
And that is just drugs. I won't get started on sex and alcohol. Those were my choices.
Wake up. Do you want your child to be fully educated, or do you want your head to be in the sand while your kid ends up being one of those "If I had only known" scenarios? As a kid who myself teetered between the two, I'm pushing for education. I'll be clear, I've never done drugs, but I've been around enough drug abuse to never want to. I was extremely naive. Frankly, today as a 34 year old adult, there are many scenarios that I don't know how I made it out alive. If I was one of those that gave into peer pressure, I would be just another statistic as well, and I know exactly what path I would have taken and where I would be right now.
It is detrimental to the outcome of your kid's childhood that you make them fully aware of the consequences.
Adults who provide kids with alcohol are not cool. Adults who help throw parties and hang out with teenagers are even uncooler. They failed at their own childhoods and never grew up. Some do it because they are predators. I know this first hand. My mind is destroyed by some of the things that have happened to me. You're damn right that I am going to do everything I can to prevent that from happening to my children.
It is up to you to make it clear to them that they should fight for their childhood, and that if they won't then you will. Education goes a long way in assisting with that. Also being the kind of parent who is a parent that your kid can talk to rather than just being sent off to play while you do the adult things. Something I like to refer to as "over parenting". Acting like the bad things don't exist and sheltering your child from everything so that when the bad things come around they have no idea how to contain themselves around all the new exciting things that "everyone else" is doing. I was that kid. Don't be that parent. You cannot get away with sitting back and hoping. Education through school and parenting is a hell of a lot safer than experimenting and learning the hard way.
My only goal as a mother is to raise a child that doesn't have to recover from their childhood.
Let me start off by saying, that I agree that children knowing anything about drug abuse is horrifying. However, the world that we live in today, makes it absolutely necessary. Especially when, statistically speaking, at least 1/3 of drug and alcohol experimentation starts before high school.
One third.
And that is just drugs. I won't get started on sex and alcohol. Those were my choices.
Wake up. Do you want your child to be fully educated, or do you want your head to be in the sand while your kid ends up being one of those "If I had only known" scenarios? As a kid who myself teetered between the two, I'm pushing for education. I'll be clear, I've never done drugs, but I've been around enough drug abuse to never want to. I was extremely naive. Frankly, today as a 34 year old adult, there are many scenarios that I don't know how I made it out alive. If I was one of those that gave into peer pressure, I would be just another statistic as well, and I know exactly what path I would have taken and where I would be right now.
It is detrimental to the outcome of your kid's childhood that you make them fully aware of the consequences.
Adults who provide kids with alcohol are not cool. Adults who help throw parties and hang out with teenagers are even uncooler. They failed at their own childhoods and never grew up. Some do it because they are predators. I know this first hand. My mind is destroyed by some of the things that have happened to me. You're damn right that I am going to do everything I can to prevent that from happening to my children.
It is up to you to make it clear to them that they should fight for their childhood, and that if they won't then you will. Education goes a long way in assisting with that. Also being the kind of parent who is a parent that your kid can talk to rather than just being sent off to play while you do the adult things. Something I like to refer to as "over parenting". Acting like the bad things don't exist and sheltering your child from everything so that when the bad things come around they have no idea how to contain themselves around all the new exciting things that "everyone else" is doing. I was that kid. Don't be that parent. You cannot get away with sitting back and hoping. Education through school and parenting is a hell of a lot safer than experimenting and learning the hard way.
My only goal as a mother is to raise a child that doesn't have to recover from their childhood.
Saturday, September 26, 2015
Anesthesia Brain
A lot has been going on. Most of it mundane, every day normal single mom life stuff. The girl child has had 4 games so far this season for soccer. The other day I had a procedure that prevented me from being able to make it. She was fine with it, of course. She came home very excited because they won 5-4. Monday they have a home game against the same team.
By procedure, I mean that I had my 3rd endoscopy and 1st colonoscopy. My, my. What a process that prep is. It made me think of people who regularly do "fasts" and "cleanses" to lose weight. How the Hell....I didn't lose anything but my dignity.
Forcing myself to drink fluids on an empty stomach was an interesting experience in itself. Near the end the only think I could think of that resembled the process was this scene from Harry Potter:
36 hours with no food, and 12 hours pre-procedure with nothing at all. My body was not a fan. It is still protesting 2 days later. I'll spare the Universe the details. There is so much air in my system that it's excruciating. My body sounds like a coffee maker. I'm trying to find some humor in this so that I don't lose my mind over it.
My friend that did end up bringing me home found it hilarious that I suggested that we go to the Humane Society because I don't have nearly enough dogs. My post anesthesia brain thought I needed to go rescue all of them. Also last night my son looks at my huge bruised IV site and goes "Ewe that looks like one of those heroine things!" Explaining after I was done almost peeing myself from laughing that he remembers seeing track marks on someone in an episode of CSI. That, and he learned the signs of drug use in 5th grade.
I don't know what I can say about the situation behind who brought me and who took me home. I'm glad I have people in my life who care about me enough to do things like this for me, but I'm also devastated beyond anything I can describe that the one person that I needed the most to be there just flat out refused because they had "better things to do" - when I've had this appointment for a month. I thought that we were past the repeatedly going out of our way to hurt each other and treating each other like an afterthought stage. I guess I can only speak for myself when I say that times have changed.
And of course, I'm doing my hardest not to lose my shit and as I'm typing this out at work the instrumental version of this song starts playing overhead and I fail and proceed to sob:
Not because the song lyrics resemble anything that I have going on at the moment. It's just a really sad song. That and I'm frustrated. Things are different with this person, not the way that I want them to be and I don't like it. I realize the mistake that I made. I want things to be different and I feel like I'm the only one fighting for them to be. When the before mentioned person talked to me the evening after I got home, they repeatedly said "I'm glad it went well." No, it didn't go well. I was sick, I had a really hard time, it was misery, I needed you and you weren't there. If I can't rely on you when I need it the most and have been able to and have looked forward to having you there when I needed you and then you're not....how am I supposed to feel. Of course I'm dying. I also asked myself, would I feel this way if things had gone well. The answer, I would probably feel less strongly about it than I do, but yes, I would feel the same way.
I'm also freaking out because on the paperwork it lists your medical diagnoses and there are 2 that are terrifying, that someone put there and said nothing to me about. I am not going to go into details but one of them is life threatening. I'm hoping that it's just a fluke. I find it hard to believe that a doctor can just put a diagnosis onto a patients chart and say nothing to them about it. Of course it's a weekend and there is nobody around who can explain what is going on.
Between working full time, being a soccer mom for my daughter, 8 hours of therapy a week for my son and dealing with all the invariables that I have up in the air right now, I'm not finding much time to find my sanity. I just keep telling myself that it will all work out in the end. But will it?
By procedure, I mean that I had my 3rd endoscopy and 1st colonoscopy. My, my. What a process that prep is. It made me think of people who regularly do "fasts" and "cleanses" to lose weight. How the Hell....I didn't lose anything but my dignity.
Forcing myself to drink fluids on an empty stomach was an interesting experience in itself. Near the end the only think I could think of that resembled the process was this scene from Harry Potter:
36 hours with no food, and 12 hours pre-procedure with nothing at all. My body was not a fan. It is still protesting 2 days later. I'll spare the Universe the details. There is so much air in my system that it's excruciating. My body sounds like a coffee maker. I'm trying to find some humor in this so that I don't lose my mind over it.
My friend that did end up bringing me home found it hilarious that I suggested that we go to the Humane Society because I don't have nearly enough dogs. My post anesthesia brain thought I needed to go rescue all of them. Also last night my son looks at my huge bruised IV site and goes "Ewe that looks like one of those heroine things!" Explaining after I was done almost peeing myself from laughing that he remembers seeing track marks on someone in an episode of CSI. That, and he learned the signs of drug use in 5th grade.
I don't know what I can say about the situation behind who brought me and who took me home. I'm glad I have people in my life who care about me enough to do things like this for me, but I'm also devastated beyond anything I can describe that the one person that I needed the most to be there just flat out refused because they had "better things to do" - when I've had this appointment for a month. I thought that we were past the repeatedly going out of our way to hurt each other and treating each other like an afterthought stage. I guess I can only speak for myself when I say that times have changed.
And of course, I'm doing my hardest not to lose my shit and as I'm typing this out at work the instrumental version of this song starts playing overhead and I fail and proceed to sob:
Not because the song lyrics resemble anything that I have going on at the moment. It's just a really sad song. That and I'm frustrated. Things are different with this person, not the way that I want them to be and I don't like it. I realize the mistake that I made. I want things to be different and I feel like I'm the only one fighting for them to be. When the before mentioned person talked to me the evening after I got home, they repeatedly said "I'm glad it went well." No, it didn't go well. I was sick, I had a really hard time, it was misery, I needed you and you weren't there. If I can't rely on you when I need it the most and have been able to and have looked forward to having you there when I needed you and then you're not....how am I supposed to feel. Of course I'm dying. I also asked myself, would I feel this way if things had gone well. The answer, I would probably feel less strongly about it than I do, but yes, I would feel the same way.
I'm also freaking out because on the paperwork it lists your medical diagnoses and there are 2 that are terrifying, that someone put there and said nothing to me about. I am not going to go into details but one of them is life threatening. I'm hoping that it's just a fluke. I find it hard to believe that a doctor can just put a diagnosis onto a patients chart and say nothing to them about it. Of course it's a weekend and there is nobody around who can explain what is going on.
Between working full time, being a soccer mom for my daughter, 8 hours of therapy a week for my son and dealing with all the invariables that I have up in the air right now, I'm not finding much time to find my sanity. I just keep telling myself that it will all work out in the end. But will it?
Monday, September 14, 2015
Kiss My Messy House
Why yes, persons who shall be unnamed in this post, my house is a disaster.
It is that way because after working 40 hours a day 30 minutes away from home, spending 8 hours of therapy a week with my son, fighting against a body that feels like it's fighting through a sandpit just to move across a room, keeping my daughter on task with everything, countless hours on the computer back and forth emailing both of my kids teachers to set up meetings and making sure that we aren't having a repeat of last year lying about homework and struggling constantly and fighting with my kids to do, well... anything, I might be a little tired.
And even then I have to find time to make meals and clean and shower and do laundry and walk and groom my dogs. Maybe then I have mustered up enough energy to do my eyebrows and trim my nails so that I don't look like a cast member of The Walking Dead. Manicure? What's that? That perfect makeup you see on my face, if I manage to do it at all, took me 3 minutes and I most likely did it in my car in the parking lot after I knew that by some miracle I made it to work on time. I will cut you if you mention my hot mess other people call hair.
Yes, I routinely have movie time with my kids. Yes, I could be cleaning or doing household chores while the movie is going, but that would kind of void the idea of the quality time that my kids need from me as their only parent, wouldn't it. My kids are hilarious. When they're not screwing around and refusing to pick up a cup and throwing things next to the trash instead of into it, they are pretty great. Quite frankly, I'm just so elated that we haven't killed each other that by that time comes that we have an hour of quality time, you're damn right I'm going to revel in it.
Yes, you. Who has probably never turned on a vacuum in your life and have always had a wife do everything for you and before that it was your mother. And you, the stay at home mom who has time to do whatever it takes to make your household perfect while you judge me. Welcome to the world of a single mom who is so good at pretending that everything is fine on the outside that sometimes, just sometimes, everything on the inside turns to crap.
Besides,
Friday, September 11, 2015
In Dreams
So someone can work a 10 hour shift, go out drinking with friends and then get up at the ass-crack of dawn to do a yard sale, right?
I'm about to find out.
I have weeded out so much stuff in my house. I guess this stress that I've been under is actually good for something. It's making me want to put a huge "For Sale" sign on my house and just let people buy whatever they need. Merging two households together is going to be a bitch if I ever move in with "someone". Planning for the future is kinda hard to do when you're the kind of person with the attention span that doesn't even remember what you ate for breakfast.
It's even harder to do when there are vixens in the back of your mind that are bitches.
Mean, mean bitches.
I have had a reoccurring dream. It keeps popping up every few months and has been going on for about 7 years now:
I come home from work, but my stuff is entirely gone. I don't even panic; I just calmly walk around my house looking around like it's all just moved to another room or something. In front of the fireplace, there is this dog. It took years for me to see what kind of dog it is, but it's a white french bulldog now, who's name is Greg. He's wearing a little Argyle sweater and bow tie and little doggy spectacles. Around its neck there's a note with an address. I call my kids, who in my dream are little and they're all "It's fine, just come" like they're having the time of their lives, wherever they may be. I'm not even worried at all. I show up to the place. Even though it feels like it took forever to get there, I know exactly where I'm going. To somewhere I've never been before and I'm totally fine with it. It's a house that I am in love with. Like, the house of my dreams and I haven't even been inside yet. There are no cars. There's a path with candles leading to the door. Kind of like that "creepy romantic" vibe that Lifetime movies are made of. I go into the house, and all of my stuff is there. Not even in boxes, which amazes me because it was all at my old place when I left that morning but it's all here just the way I would have set it up myself. More candles everywhere through the house to a back patio. All of my family is there and suddenly I look down and I'm wearing a white dress with a rainbow petticoat underneath and my hair and makeup are perfectly done in 40's pinup style. I walk down and everyone is staring up at the sky because there's a meteor shower going on. Then a man takes my hand, and without even looking at him I know exactly who he is and I am suddenly so happy to be there. Then he puts a square, blue Lego on my finger and secures it with a rubber band. I started showing everyone, so happy to have this ring because someone finally understood me enough to know how unconventional a person I am. Nobody is saying a word, but just like in the silent movie days, you know exactly what everyone is saying and thinking.
Then I wake up feeling sad.
Last night was the first time that I have ever seen that man's face.
The mean bitches need to stop.
I'm about to find out.
I have weeded out so much stuff in my house. I guess this stress that I've been under is actually good for something. It's making me want to put a huge "For Sale" sign on my house and just let people buy whatever they need. Merging two households together is going to be a bitch if I ever move in with "someone". Planning for the future is kinda hard to do when you're the kind of person with the attention span that doesn't even remember what you ate for breakfast.
It's even harder to do when there are vixens in the back of your mind that are bitches.
Mean, mean bitches.
I have had a reoccurring dream. It keeps popping up every few months and has been going on for about 7 years now:
I come home from work, but my stuff is entirely gone. I don't even panic; I just calmly walk around my house looking around like it's all just moved to another room or something. In front of the fireplace, there is this dog. It took years for me to see what kind of dog it is, but it's a white french bulldog now, who's name is Greg. He's wearing a little Argyle sweater and bow tie and little doggy spectacles. Around its neck there's a note with an address. I call my kids, who in my dream are little and they're all "It's fine, just come" like they're having the time of their lives, wherever they may be. I'm not even worried at all. I show up to the place. Even though it feels like it took forever to get there, I know exactly where I'm going. To somewhere I've never been before and I'm totally fine with it. It's a house that I am in love with. Like, the house of my dreams and I haven't even been inside yet. There are no cars. There's a path with candles leading to the door. Kind of like that "creepy romantic" vibe that Lifetime movies are made of. I go into the house, and all of my stuff is there. Not even in boxes, which amazes me because it was all at my old place when I left that morning but it's all here just the way I would have set it up myself. More candles everywhere through the house to a back patio. All of my family is there and suddenly I look down and I'm wearing a white dress with a rainbow petticoat underneath and my hair and makeup are perfectly done in 40's pinup style. I walk down and everyone is staring up at the sky because there's a meteor shower going on. Then a man takes my hand, and without even looking at him I know exactly who he is and I am suddenly so happy to be there. Then he puts a square, blue Lego on my finger and secures it with a rubber band. I started showing everyone, so happy to have this ring because someone finally understood me enough to know how unconventional a person I am. Nobody is saying a word, but just like in the silent movie days, you know exactly what everyone is saying and thinking.
Then I wake up feeling sad.
Last night was the first time that I have ever seen that man's face.
The mean bitches need to stop.
Monday, September 7, 2015
Fat Shaming Is Not Cool, Kewl or Kool
As someone who has spent much of my life being overweight due to a magical combination of knee problems, depression, undiagnosed until recently medical problems and ice cream (I mean, have you tried it before?); I suppose I should be angry about some scrawny "comedian" going off on a tangent about how obese people are all ruining her life.
I watched it. I kind of giggle snorted. If it was truly how she feels, and not some comedic rant, then I pray for her and I'm not religious in any way.
How uncomfortable do you have to be with yourself to worry about another person's appearance? And then on top of it have the gall to outwardly judge them. Does it make you feel better to be horrible? I don't get it.
As a kid, I was skinny. I dressed appropriately. Sure, I liked boys, but I never did anything inappropriate with them until I was old enough to know what I was doing. I rarely had a boyfriend and in high school I didn't have one at all. What little time I had available not being grounded for the reason of the day was spent clinging to what few friendships that I had left. In school at an alarmingly young age, I was labeled a slut because I took care of myself and had bigger boobs than all the other girls. I stopped loving myself and got very good at hiding who I really was because it was made clear as often as possible that who I was didn't matter because I was never going to be what they wanted me to be. At home, my siblings were allowed to call me fat and ugly. It was OK because my mother did it too. It wasn't all bad, but that isn't what this is about. When I was a freshman in high school, I was a size 6. By the time I was a senior, I was a size 12.
12.
That is a size that I would kill to be again.
As a side note, my relationship with my family is worlds different today than it was when I was a kid, but their memory of my childhood and their current belief systems makes it look like we never grew up in the same house. Every mention of it makes crossing the border of North Korea look like a breezy day trip.
Frankly, every thing in my life went wrong because I didn't know how to love myself enough to say no. Single parenthood, duped into eloping, being left pregnant with a toddler, raising both entirely on my own. I was still so busy raising them that focusing on myself wasn't an option. I didn't know what else to do and I had no support to show me how to be otherwise. Surrounded by everyone happy (more than, even) to tell me how I was doing everything wrong but not a single person around willing to show me how to be better. The past 10 years have been one big roller coaster, but I'm better for it.
Here's the kicker: Every health issue that I have now is the same trouble that I've spent dealing with since my teens when I was thin. It is simply not the case that I have these issues because of my weight.
Therapy is expensive shit, but I owe my life to it.
I have taken the long and curvaceous road down where I am now, but I can actually say that despite my demons I am pretty happy with me. I like my naked body just as much as I appreciate it clothed and apparently so do the hundreds of people messaging me who have seen my modeling pictures, along with those that I have in my life now.
HOLY SHIT! Here's a thought or twelve for the record books:
Did it ever occur to you that when someone doesn't take care of themselves, just for a second, did stop to think that it may be because they don't know how to?
If someone is "fat"not just by your standards but medically also, maybe they have a lifestyle in which they were simply not taught how to be any different.
Maybe they do have medical problems that prevent them from being your same svelte size 4 complete with bitchy attitude.
Not everyone hates themselves or worries about other people's lives.
Maybe you should help them.
Maybe you wouldn't be such a bitch if you learned to love yourself in a non-narcissistic, evil queen kind of way.
Body positivity has nothing to do with fat. It has to do with "WHOLE" acceptance. Loving who you are on the journey that you're on.
Not in any way does it make someone bad for loving themselves and being comfortable in the skin that they are in and wearing what they want to wear - no matter how inappropriate it is to you.
Every person has fat. THEY as a person are not fat. We have hair and fingernails and teeth and feelings, but do we start accusingly calling people those?
I can see it now: "Jeez have some feelings all up in my business. How freaking dare you be so emotional!?!"
Not everyone who is overweight is a diabetic, has high blood pressure or any other stereotypical "fat person" disease health care professionals are pandemically swearing that everyone that is overweight has like it's the worst thing on the planet that could happen to a person.
I for one, think that they should be more worried about the bitches who are giving themselves heart attacks over something that has nothing at all to do with them. Stress is a killer y'all. Even more so when the stress is a stress that isn't yours.
Is your blood sugar low? Maybe that's why you're such a bitch. You know that fat people eat all the time and you're jealous. Can I make you a sandwich?
Sunday, September 6, 2015
Vent of Randomness
I couldn't think of a different title. I may change it later. Who knows. To warn you ahead of time, this is more of a vent of randomness than anything else. You probably won't understand it and I apologize to my readers if it doesn't make sense, but frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.
I am not disgusted by a lot. After all, I am the mother of a special needs child who is fascinated by the most disgusting things imaginable and grew up with a family of hunters. With that said, don't ever hock a loogie in front of me. I understand the need to do it, but people, when y'all are in public and people are around listening to it....REALLY? Manners. Working at a hospital surrounded by the old and infirm, you'd think I'd be used to it. Nope. An hour later after hearing it and I still want to vomit.
Who needed to eat lunch today? Apparently not me.
I'm going to take that as a blessing. I'm having one of those days where I need all the cheese. Cause ya know, since I'm never going to get laid again and all why not?
Just kidding about that; things seem to be on the road to going quite well in that department. But not about the cheese. It's a really good thing that I have people in my life that love me just the way I am. Because cheese. Who needs to be a size 8 when you have that wonderous stuff?
I've been having a hard time lately. Part of it is the time of year, the part that threatens to undo whatever progress I've put into being marginally saner. I know that transitional months and I don't get along much. I've always wondered if it's ever going to change. It hasn't yet. I've done as much as I think I can to will it away.
I have OCD. Not the ritualistic kind; the "Hello, I'm your brain on stress. Let me hound you with intrusive thoughts until you cry" kind. Most of the time I am really good at managing it. Lately, not so much. Obessive thoughts are incredibly fucked up beings. The human brain, especially the stressed to the max one, can conjure up some really disturbing things. It's like my brain doesn't want me to be happy and when I am I don't know what to do about it. There are days that I am certain that Hell is a place that you carry around with you, not a place that you go to. I've found that the only way for lack of a better term, to stop the insanity or "feed the beast", is to get a huge rush of adrenaline. Another reason behind my...how did one person put it..."openness". With that said; last night was exactly what my beast needed. Yes, as I grin widely at my desk, I will leave it vaguely at that.
Working out has become second nature to me. Still feeling better than I was, which is a plus. The only really bad day was Thursday, in which I got the kids off to school and then commenced to sleep the day away. It was frustrating because it was my day off and I had so much planned. Just listening to the ques that I'm given instead of fighting them. It's been working. My pain and swelling levels have decreased, I feel better and have a lot more energy than I did last month. I'm trying really hard not to be disappointed about one frackin' day, but you know how that goes....
Things that were stressing me out beyond recognition have slightly tapered off. Money is still the root of all evil, but at least it is consistently so.
Some things in my world are happening that I am pretty excited about. Nothing that I can talk about in depth, because although I am an open person I do also respect other people's privacy. All I can say, is that it feels pretty good to have some answers. It is very settling to be told that you are loved because you're a very fun person to be around.
I am not ready to admit that the life that I want exists only in the same vortex that the Easter Bunny and Santa reside in just yet.
I am not disgusted by a lot. After all, I am the mother of a special needs child who is fascinated by the most disgusting things imaginable and grew up with a family of hunters. With that said, don't ever hock a loogie in front of me. I understand the need to do it, but people, when y'all are in public and people are around listening to it....REALLY? Manners. Working at a hospital surrounded by the old and infirm, you'd think I'd be used to it. Nope. An hour later after hearing it and I still want to vomit.
Who needed to eat lunch today? Apparently not me.
I'm going to take that as a blessing. I'm having one of those days where I need all the cheese. Cause ya know, since I'm never going to get laid again and all why not?
Just kidding about that; things seem to be on the road to going quite well in that department. But not about the cheese. It's a really good thing that I have people in my life that love me just the way I am. Because cheese. Who needs to be a size 8 when you have that wonderous stuff?
I've been having a hard time lately. Part of it is the time of year, the part that threatens to undo whatever progress I've put into being marginally saner. I know that transitional months and I don't get along much. I've always wondered if it's ever going to change. It hasn't yet. I've done as much as I think I can to will it away.
I have OCD. Not the ritualistic kind; the "Hello, I'm your brain on stress. Let me hound you with intrusive thoughts until you cry" kind. Most of the time I am really good at managing it. Lately, not so much. Obessive thoughts are incredibly fucked up beings. The human brain, especially the stressed to the max one, can conjure up some really disturbing things. It's like my brain doesn't want me to be happy and when I am I don't know what to do about it. There are days that I am certain that Hell is a place that you carry around with you, not a place that you go to. I've found that the only way for lack of a better term, to stop the insanity or "feed the beast", is to get a huge rush of adrenaline. Another reason behind my...how did one person put it..."openness". With that said; last night was exactly what my beast needed. Yes, as I grin widely at my desk, I will leave it vaguely at that.
Working out has become second nature to me. Still feeling better than I was, which is a plus. The only really bad day was Thursday, in which I got the kids off to school and then commenced to sleep the day away. It was frustrating because it was my day off and I had so much planned. Just listening to the ques that I'm given instead of fighting them. It's been working. My pain and swelling levels have decreased, I feel better and have a lot more energy than I did last month. I'm trying really hard not to be disappointed about one frackin' day, but you know how that goes....
Things that were stressing me out beyond recognition have slightly tapered off. Money is still the root of all evil, but at least it is consistently so.
Some things in my world are happening that I am pretty excited about. Nothing that I can talk about in depth, because although I am an open person I do also respect other people's privacy. All I can say, is that it feels pretty good to have some answers. It is very settling to be told that you are loved because you're a very fun person to be around.
I am not ready to admit that the life that I want exists only in the same vortex that the Easter Bunny and Santa reside in just yet.
Sunday, August 30, 2015
Food For Thought
So apparently it's a really bad idea to blurt things out when you're half awake, even if you're only typing. Don't type and publish on an empty brain.
Actually, to be completely honest it's not empty. It's just full of crap that I either don't know how to say or a bunch of stuff that I promised that I wouldn't.
I feel like setting fires. Not literally. Well, for the most part anyway. I'm sure that if I were to go into details you would appreciate the sentiment. I understand honesty. I understand keeping secrets that are important. I understand the need for privacy in all types of relationships. My question is: at what point do semi-answers become better than having no answers at all? Am I going to be stuck settling for that? I'm not one to sit back and let things happen. I guess only time will tell. Let it go, and all that jazz.
Faith is taking the first step even when you can't see the whole staircase.
All I can is say that when you find youself thinking in Disney song lyrics, things might be looking up, but it ain't pretty.
"New and a bit alarming
Who'd have ever thought that this could be?
True that he's no Prince Charming
But there's something in him that I simply didn't see....
There's something there that wasn't there before"
Don't lie. You sang it too.
I am pretty sure that it doesn't help that the instrumental elevator music being piped into the lobby at work actually plays disney songs. And I know every word.
Every. Damn. One.
In other news: dad let me borrow his mower, as mine I'm afraid has completely crapped the bed. Funny enough this thing is older than I am and works better than mine that was maybe 5 years old. The yard was starting to look like I was losing a game of Jumanji. The side of your foot is the single worst place on your body to get bitten by a mosquito, by the way.
Had an interesting realization on my walk last night. It felt great at the time. Did I remember what it was when I woke up? Of course not. Squirrel brain, it's a curse.
I have a couple of procedures scheduled this week. Routine, yes. Am I any less terrified? Of course not. It doesn't help that 5 years ago I went in for a "routine procedure" and woke up with no feeling from my knee to my shoulder on half of my body that took over a year to recover from. I don't have a worst case scenario in mind, things just seem to work out that way when I get opened up. It's times like this that you realize just exactly how alone in the world you really are. It is not a good feeling.
This realization also led me to take down my online dating profiles. I just need time to figure shit out. I won't get into the reasoning behind it. Other than the fact that the internet is full of cheap hookup seeking dirt bags and that's not who I am. And it didn't feel like it was coinciding with what I really want out of my life and who I want to be a part of it. I did it because I wanted to and it feels like I made the right decision.
I changed the alarm notification on my phone to the Andy Griffith theme song. I have always loved it and it puts a smile on my face. I thought that it would be a nice way to start my day, that listening to something skippy would help waking up a more pleasant experience. I am not the kind of person who can wake up listening to a bio hazard siren, pop out of bed like I'm in a toaster and then not spend the day wanting to stab everyone in the eyeball. The unfortunate side effect is that it's been stuck in my head any time that I haven't been listening to other music. I'm going back to Achmed The Dead Terrorist.
"Hellooo. Wake up or I keell you!"
Straight and to the point. I like that in a man.
I have to finish getting the kids ready for school tonight. I'm so glad that they're in the same school now. Navigating the drop off area for 2 different schools on the same road was what I imagine the 3rd and 4th circles of Hell are like. I can appreciate the architectural sentiment, but it clearly wasn't designed by someone who experiences half awake moms trying to commute to work; uncaffeinated and messy haired who want to run over the overly protective parents who won't get the H.E. Double Hockey Sticks out of the way because they have to make sure their spawn's hair is perfect. It's a great day if I can get mine to wear pants.
On Facebook, there is an app called "On this day", where you can see your posts from previous years. I had completely forgotten about the time 5 years ago when the kids and I were at the beach. The girl child, 9 years old and still hadn't hit her anti-everything girly phase, kissed a frog (after having just seen The Princess and The Frog) and in her dismay that he didn't turn into a boy exclaimed "Who needs a Prince Charming anyways? I just sacrificed my lips for nothing!"
Prince Charming my ass. At this point I'd settle for a doofus in a tin foil hat.
Friday, August 28, 2015
Kids, Today's Lesson Is...
**EDITED**
That blueberry pinnacle and simply lemonade were meant to be together.
That I will be lose my mind excited over a phone call that I didn't expect to have. Gravitational pull, y'all.
That when I'm completely honest, people that don't have to be will be a little bit nicer than they were planning to be.
That connections with people shouldn't ebb and flow and then crash as hard as they have been. The Universe needs therapy. Also that my entire being cannot handle the crashing part anymore so therefore if you are currently a part of my life and plan on being a douchebag, see yourself out of it.
That when I am open and honest about needing your time for 5 minutes, it would be nice if you cared enough to pick up the phone.
That I am really tired of feeling like I have to question everything all the time. I just want to feel secure for once.
That haters gon' hate no matter what I do, so hate away! I am so tired of being negatively judged by people that have barely even met me. Take yourself back to the Mean Girls convention that you crawled out of and come back when you've found your self respect.
That grocery stores don't carry sanity. I have been seriously praying to see a two for one sale any day now.
That my gut instinct is usually correct. Hope says "Yes! About damn time", signs say truth, logic is screaming "pick me", big red flashing signs point to bullshit. At the same time I can't help but wonder if my big red flashing signs are all based on things that have happened in the past vs. anything that coincides with what is happening now. I need help in decifering but I think that realizing this is a start at the very least.
That I shouldn't have to compete, ever, to be loved. Unless it's arguing over who loves the other more, love is never a competition and you should never have to feel like you're constantly waiting for the bottom to drop out. Voicing your needs to your partner should never feel like a chore. **For the record, that although currently working on it, I am still unpartnered, this blog is just about realizations.
That giving honesty without expecting in return is the most freeing experience you can ever have. And realizing that it isn't going to matter if I don't receive it even more so. And accepting the fact that you are not going to get it even more than that.
That I'm not as allergic to human relationships as previously thought.
That is need to stop pushing myself and trust my body when it says that it's had enough. Failure in this causes me to feel like I'm being crushed by an elephant apparently. Now that I know what is causing it, I really am going to need to do better to stay on top of this. I just got done spending an entire month feeling this way and pissed away a summer being sick.
That there is not really a bad time to communicate specific thoughts or feelings so much as there is a bad way to say it.
That one should not blog and publish while half awake and emotional.
That blueberry pinnacle and simply lemonade were meant to be together.
That I will be lose my mind excited over a phone call that I didn't expect to have. Gravitational pull, y'all.
That when I'm completely honest, people that don't have to be will be a little bit nicer than they were planning to be.
That connections with people shouldn't ebb and flow and then crash as hard as they have been. The Universe needs therapy. Also that my entire being cannot handle the crashing part anymore so therefore if you are currently a part of my life and plan on being a douchebag, see yourself out of it.
That when I am open and honest about needing your time for 5 minutes, it would be nice if you cared enough to pick up the phone.
That I am really tired of feeling like I have to question everything all the time. I just want to feel secure for once.
That haters gon' hate no matter what I do, so hate away! I am so tired of being negatively judged by people that have barely even met me. Take yourself back to the Mean Girls convention that you crawled out of and come back when you've found your self respect.
That grocery stores don't carry sanity. I have been seriously praying to see a two for one sale any day now.
That my gut instinct is usually correct. Hope says "Yes! About damn time", signs say truth, logic is screaming "pick me", big red flashing signs point to bullshit. At the same time I can't help but wonder if my big red flashing signs are all based on things that have happened in the past vs. anything that coincides with what is happening now. I need help in decifering but I think that realizing this is a start at the very least.
That I shouldn't have to compete, ever, to be loved. Unless it's arguing over who loves the other more, love is never a competition and you should never have to feel like you're constantly waiting for the bottom to drop out. Voicing your needs to your partner should never feel like a chore. **For the record, that although currently working on it, I am still unpartnered, this blog is just about realizations.
That giving honesty without expecting in return is the most freeing experience you can ever have. And realizing that it isn't going to matter if I don't receive it even more so. And accepting the fact that you are not going to get it even more than that.
That I'm not as allergic to human relationships as previously thought.
That is need to stop pushing myself and trust my body when it says that it's had enough. Failure in this causes me to feel like I'm being crushed by an elephant apparently. Now that I know what is causing it, I really am going to need to do better to stay on top of this. I just got done spending an entire month feeling this way and pissed away a summer being sick.
That there is not really a bad time to communicate specific thoughts or feelings so much as there is a bad way to say it.
Thursday, August 27, 2015
The Piano's Been Drinking, Not Me
Alcohol! Because what else is an Irish girl who's cried herself dehydrated going to drink?
That was an attempt at humor. I'm not drunk, but I am drinking. I made the mistake of using eucalyptus shampoo after my 3 miler with the dog. Before showering I was awake, but now I'm awake and tingly. For some reason, this kind of stress causes my body to believe that it can run perfectly OK on 4 hours of sleep each night and the amount of food that one person should eat in an entire day all week. When I'm content, well, they didn't coin the phrase "fat and happy" for nothing...
I'm starting to find my groove. I've done a bunch of research on my condition, it was a lot to take in but it reaffirmed that I'm not going to die, I'm just not going to get better. I've been making sure that the things that I am putting into my body are things that I should be. For the most part. Alcohol is good for the soul, and it's Angry Orchard, so it's basically fermented juice. An apple a day keeps the doctor away. After 10 of these bitches I should never need to see another one, amiright? It's nice to feel semi-human. I start physical therapy for my knee on Friday, that should be interesting.
Repeat after me: When you believe that nothing could possibly go wrong, the Universe is going to prove you wrong just to smite you. And when it does, it is going to suck donkey balls.
The past few days have reassured me that, even though I didn't realize it before, I have a network of people that love me and want me to be happy. They are the kind who just hand over the alcohol and cookies and don't ask questions. That no matter what happens in the next few months, everything will have happened the way it was supposed to and worrying about it is in fact really, really bad for my well being. And for the mental health of everyone that comes near me.
Also, after an in depth conversation with a very wise person, I've always been the type that avoids action until decisions are made for me and that I can't be upset about a result I got for something I didn't do. You can just 'fess up the truth, take the action you didn't (if you can), and hope for the best. Though faith is admittedly absent, hope I still do.
Time will tell what happens next. I am going to let go of what I can't contro.....oh who the Hell am I kidding? I can't relinquish control over my own life. I am going to find a way to just go with it and tru.....
Why do all the phrases about strong independent women all have this crap? It almost makes me not want to be a woman anymore. I am strong, but I'd like to be able to be weak sometimes and have it be OK. Not "Oh, the strong single mom that I admire has lost her shit, but it's OK. She'll come out of it so strong that she could lift a car after a dingo ate her baby". Feelings, I have them. I want to feel free to be able to feel the full spectrum of emotion; even if it does happen all within the same 10 minutes, without being judged for it.
I want to be in love with someone who loves me too without losing myself or compromising my integrity to get it. I won't lie all over the Internet just because I think someone is watching that it's going to hurt. In fact if I think I'm hurting someone it hurts me more - I'm a Pisces, my kind are grudge-holding assholes on level -8,000%. But I'm also Irish and we take shit to the grave. It could go either way really. Yeah, I hide behind my humor and put on a strong front that I can handle anything, but I don't understand what it takes to be just outright spiteful and mean. It's taken awhile but I am a sappy hopeless romantic and I've learned how to take my guard down because honestly, I'm just really tired of having to hold it up all the time. I use common sense, but I have a heart and at the core, I'm just a girl who is asking a boy to love her.
Common sense is subjective anyway.
That was an attempt at humor. I'm not drunk, but I am drinking. I made the mistake of using eucalyptus shampoo after my 3 miler with the dog. Before showering I was awake, but now I'm awake and tingly. For some reason, this kind of stress causes my body to believe that it can run perfectly OK on 4 hours of sleep each night and the amount of food that one person should eat in an entire day all week. When I'm content, well, they didn't coin the phrase "fat and happy" for nothing...
I'm starting to find my groove. I've done a bunch of research on my condition, it was a lot to take in but it reaffirmed that I'm not going to die, I'm just not going to get better. I've been making sure that the things that I am putting into my body are things that I should be. For the most part. Alcohol is good for the soul, and it's Angry Orchard, so it's basically fermented juice. An apple a day keeps the doctor away. After 10 of these bitches I should never need to see another one, amiright? It's nice to feel semi-human. I start physical therapy for my knee on Friday, that should be interesting.
Repeat after me: When you believe that nothing could possibly go wrong, the Universe is going to prove you wrong just to smite you. And when it does, it is going to suck donkey balls.
The past few days have reassured me that, even though I didn't realize it before, I have a network of people that love me and want me to be happy. They are the kind who just hand over the alcohol and cookies and don't ask questions. That no matter what happens in the next few months, everything will have happened the way it was supposed to and worrying about it is in fact really, really bad for my well being. And for the mental health of everyone that comes near me.
Also, after an in depth conversation with a very wise person, I've always been the type that avoids action until decisions are made for me and that I can't be upset about a result I got for something I didn't do. You can just 'fess up the truth, take the action you didn't (if you can), and hope for the best. Though faith is admittedly absent, hope I still do.
Time will tell what happens next. I am going to let go of what I can't contro.....oh who the Hell am I kidding? I can't relinquish control over my own life. I am going to find a way to just go with it and tru.....
Why do all the phrases about strong independent women all have this crap? It almost makes me not want to be a woman anymore. I am strong, but I'd like to be able to be weak sometimes and have it be OK. Not "Oh, the strong single mom that I admire has lost her shit, but it's OK. She'll come out of it so strong that she could lift a car after a dingo ate her baby". Feelings, I have them. I want to feel free to be able to feel the full spectrum of emotion; even if it does happen all within the same 10 minutes, without being judged for it.
I want to be in love with someone who loves me too without losing myself or compromising my integrity to get it. I won't lie all over the Internet just because I think someone is watching that it's going to hurt. In fact if I think I'm hurting someone it hurts me more - I'm a Pisces, my kind are grudge-holding assholes on level -8,000%. But I'm also Irish and we take shit to the grave. It could go either way really. Yeah, I hide behind my humor and put on a strong front that I can handle anything, but I don't understand what it takes to be just outright spiteful and mean. It's taken awhile but I am a sappy hopeless romantic and I've learned how to take my guard down because honestly, I'm just really tired of having to hold it up all the time. I use common sense, but I have a heart and at the core, I'm just a girl who is asking a boy to love her.
Common sense is subjective anyway.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
In Other News
So many other things other than heartache have been happening in my world that I want to share, so that's what I'm going to do today kids!
I got my teeth fixed! No more yellow glue on all teeth except one that will be taken care of in October when I get my 1 starter wisdom tooth cavity filled. The hygienist was so pleased that she had to bring all the other dentists in to see what another stupid dentist had done to me. I am proud of myself for making that call.
I am down 10 pounds, but I'm not going to hold my breath on that one because right now I'm not in the middle of a flair up.
Which brings to my other thing. My doctor put his foot down and got me an appointment with a rheumatologist on Monday. In the past, my other doctor had consulted with one who turned down seeing me because one stupid blood test didn't make me special enough. All clues all this time have pointed to fibromyalgia. And I honestly don't know why it took 4 years as a human pin cushion and seeing almost every specialist in the state to figure it out. Looking at some of the symptoms listed for the disease it's almost like I'm a poster child. I'm actually shocked that this was never on their radar. And people with my disease there are 11 to 18 pressure points that don't hurt another person when they're touched if they're normal, but excruciating to the touch to people with this disease. I have 15 of them and halfway through the exam I was in tears. Every press on every spot might as well have been a gun shot.
The good news, answers. The bad news, answers. I am not going to get better. I'm not dying, I'm just going to continue to have days where I feel like I am. I have been given some tips that will manage the disease, which is do everything I do on a good day, but do it all the time. Regular sleep, healthy eating and he wants me to exercise more than walking the dogs 3 miles a day a few times a week.
I have a lot to get done around the house. Possibly moving - not going to get into that issue right now because it'll set me off on another crying spree which I've managed to not do for 12 hours. I'm almost elated by that, by the way.
I'm going to gather up all the crap that is going and get it out of the house. Having a yard sale September 12th instead of using the day for what I actually took the day off from work for.
I'm not moving on, I'm managing my health. I won't let this shit win.
I got my teeth fixed! No more yellow glue on all teeth except one that will be taken care of in October when I get my 1 starter wisdom tooth cavity filled. The hygienist was so pleased that she had to bring all the other dentists in to see what another stupid dentist had done to me. I am proud of myself for making that call.
I am down 10 pounds, but I'm not going to hold my breath on that one because right now I'm not in the middle of a flair up.
Which brings to my other thing. My doctor put his foot down and got me an appointment with a rheumatologist on Monday. In the past, my other doctor had consulted with one who turned down seeing me because one stupid blood test didn't make me special enough. All clues all this time have pointed to fibromyalgia. And I honestly don't know why it took 4 years as a human pin cushion and seeing almost every specialist in the state to figure it out. Looking at some of the symptoms listed for the disease it's almost like I'm a poster child. I'm actually shocked that this was never on their radar. And people with my disease there are 11 to 18 pressure points that don't hurt another person when they're touched if they're normal, but excruciating to the touch to people with this disease. I have 15 of them and halfway through the exam I was in tears. Every press on every spot might as well have been a gun shot.
The good news, answers. The bad news, answers. I am not going to get better. I'm not dying, I'm just going to continue to have days where I feel like I am. I have been given some tips that will manage the disease, which is do everything I do on a good day, but do it all the time. Regular sleep, healthy eating and he wants me to exercise more than walking the dogs 3 miles a day a few times a week.
I have a lot to get done around the house. Possibly moving - not going to get into that issue right now because it'll set me off on another crying spree which I've managed to not do for 12 hours. I'm almost elated by that, by the way.
I'm going to gather up all the crap that is going and get it out of the house. Having a yard sale September 12th instead of using the day for what I actually took the day off from work for.
I'm not moving on, I'm managing my health. I won't let this shit win.
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
In The End...
I have so much to say, but it's just not worth it to say more. The damage has already been done. I already said what I needed to. What is more important is that it was what I should have said. To the person that I should have said it to. The ball's in their court.
**Edit** I realize that acting out of anger is never a good thing. I tend to have a penchant for uncontrolled emotional outbursts. More often than not it works in my favor....this time, um, not so much. When I said I wanted to get rid of the bad feelings, I didn't mean that I wanted to have to feel them first, and cry almost non-stop, then get rid of them; but the universe seems to have taken it that way.
All I can say is that this issue is just as much my fault as it was his. Communication in any form other than self preservation had never been my strong point.
Clarity, regret and guilt can be saviours sometimes too, it's not only the job of happiness.
Sunday, August 23, 2015
I'm Out.
Yes, I took down my previous post. I decided that I am not going to let this defeat me by putting that energy out there. I was having a feel all the feelings all at once moment. It was gross. I got it out. I'm over it.
After work I had an early dinner with a friend. Naturally he wanted to get the autopsy report out of the way. After attempting to, I figured out that there's not enough alcohol to get through it. Gods love him for trying though. We can get too wrapped up in the details of how we're hurting and forget the things in life that matter. So instead, I chose to laugh and enjoy the wine.
I don't know what time will bring. Maybe I'll just figure out the things I have going on right now that I thought I had a partner to help me through and revel in my ability to handle it. Maybe I'll just start dating again. Judgey McJudgersons need not apply: I don't think there's an appropriate grieving process to wade through when you've been spiritually Napalmed.
"You just pick yourself up, dust yourself off and try all over again" as my man Frank would sing it.
https://youtu.be/3EFPJL1uQbs
After work I had an early dinner with a friend. Naturally he wanted to get the autopsy report out of the way. After attempting to, I figured out that there's not enough alcohol to get through it. Gods love him for trying though. We can get too wrapped up in the details of how we're hurting and forget the things in life that matter. So instead, I chose to laugh and enjoy the wine.
I don't know what time will bring. Maybe I'll just figure out the things I have going on right now that I thought I had a partner to help me through and revel in my ability to handle it. Maybe I'll just start dating again. Judgey McJudgersons need not apply: I don't think there's an appropriate grieving process to wade through when you've been spiritually Napalmed.
"You just pick yourself up, dust yourself off and try all over again" as my man Frank would sing it.
https://youtu.be/3EFPJL1uQbs
Lesson Learned
I don't want to talk about what brought on the post from the other day in great detail. I've been asked and to answer, yes it was about Mr. Seven Year Itch.
I swear that since we broke up we've seen each other and talked more since we broke up then we did all of last year when we were together. Of course last year was the ending point and things were really bad, so of course we did everything we could to avoid each other....I digress.
All I can say about what I recently found, is that I don't understand. I guess I never will, as I don't understand what it takes to build someone up and tear them down behind their back. I don't have control over what he chose, which was to lie - yes there is no other way to put it. What he did falls into exactly that category. Which was to convince me to uproot my entire life for something that I've always wanted and to agree to go to counseling together to rebuild what we both destroyed. To get my kids on board and ready to have a man around full time. To start looking for another job as commuting with my current schedule wouldn't work as well as it does now. My son was psyched. Change doesn't come easy for me and I really thought this time that someone had my back. The initial panic wore off and I was actually starting to plan. It clearly isn't going to happen. And that is okay. I will figure it out. I always do.
No, I haven't heard a thing from him since I told him I found out. He wouldn't answer my calls or respond to my text messages. So be it. I have other people that I would rather talk to. Ones who don't lie to my face. Lions don't lose sleep over sheep.
I have learned a lot about myself in the past 48 hours.
That I have amazing friends who know who I am when I forget. Who understand what I can't talk about and why and just hand me alcohol and make me cookies. I owe my liver one hell of an apology. Though it would be half assed, because it was worth every second of the experiences that I wouldn't trade for the world.
That I am worthy of being loved. Nobody deserves to be hurt on purpose, or otherwise for that matter. I'm not saying for a second that I am perfect. I am saying that as humans, we all make mistakes. Regardless of what those mistakes are, especially if they ended in a learning experience of epic proportions, we can still come out of it in the end better for it. I was doing fine, I was dating again and happy and looking to take classes this fall and then against my better judgement I put so much on the back burner because I let myself be convinced that I was wanted too.
I guess the ultimate goal was simply to win. It feels like this was all some high school ploy to get back at me for breaking up with him and that I meant nothing. I call B.S. When you're over the age of 30 and real life shit is involved you should be institutionalized if you attempt to act like you're in high school. I was told the best way to get over a breakup is to stay angry. You could say I'm angry alright. Picking up the pieces of your child's broken heart is a million times harder to take than being on the inside of the relationship knowing why it's happening. I can also say that I am better because of this happening because I will never say no to my gut instinct again.
I swear that since we broke up we've seen each other and talked more since we broke up then we did all of last year when we were together. Of course last year was the ending point and things were really bad, so of course we did everything we could to avoid each other....I digress.
All I can say about what I recently found, is that I don't understand. I guess I never will, as I don't understand what it takes to build someone up and tear them down behind their back. I don't have control over what he chose, which was to lie - yes there is no other way to put it. What he did falls into exactly that category. Which was to convince me to uproot my entire life for something that I've always wanted and to agree to go to counseling together to rebuild what we both destroyed. To get my kids on board and ready to have a man around full time. To start looking for another job as commuting with my current schedule wouldn't work as well as it does now. My son was psyched. Change doesn't come easy for me and I really thought this time that someone had my back. The initial panic wore off and I was actually starting to plan. It clearly isn't going to happen. And that is okay. I will figure it out. I always do.
No, I haven't heard a thing from him since I told him I found out. He wouldn't answer my calls or respond to my text messages. So be it. I have other people that I would rather talk to. Ones who don't lie to my face. Lions don't lose sleep over sheep.
I have learned a lot about myself in the past 48 hours.
That I have amazing friends who know who I am when I forget. Who understand what I can't talk about and why and just hand me alcohol and make me cookies. I owe my liver one hell of an apology. Though it would be half assed, because it was worth every second of the experiences that I wouldn't trade for the world.
That I am worthy of being loved. Nobody deserves to be hurt on purpose, or otherwise for that matter. I'm not saying for a second that I am perfect. I am saying that as humans, we all make mistakes. Regardless of what those mistakes are, especially if they ended in a learning experience of epic proportions, we can still come out of it in the end better for it. I was doing fine, I was dating again and happy and looking to take classes this fall and then against my better judgement I put so much on the back burner because I let myself be convinced that I was wanted too.
I guess the ultimate goal was simply to win. It feels like this was all some high school ploy to get back at me for breaking up with him and that I meant nothing. I call B.S. When you're over the age of 30 and real life shit is involved you should be institutionalized if you attempt to act like you're in high school. I was told the best way to get over a breakup is to stay angry. You could say I'm angry alright. Picking up the pieces of your child's broken heart is a million times harder to take than being on the inside of the relationship knowing why it's happening. I can also say that I am better because of this happening because I will never say no to my gut instinct again.
Friday, August 21, 2015
Mic. Drop.
When you have learned the fact that someone is never going to change, it can disturb your entire being. But then there is an overwhelming sense of peace when you find your bearings again, and simply move on.
I have never taken crap from anyone in a relationship. I don't know why the past 7 years have been so different for me. It has been nothing short of a disaster of epic proportions, both emotionally and spiritually.
I keep feeling like the same thing just keeps recycling itself. The same lies, the same hurt feelings, the same love and hatred, the same broken dreams and shattered hopes, all the same crap, just rolling and tumbling around in the dryer with the dirty laundry and you never know what is going to pop out when you open the door. Of course it never matches up with what you're hoping to find in the moment. No specific peice of B.S. to match your shoes; you just wind up with leopard print and paisley leaving the house hoping that nobody notices and it ends badly. Always.
People don't stop to think about who is being affected by the bullshit. It's not just me. I have kids that loved him too. I can take it - tossing away old news is becoming second fiddle to me. To ask them to is also asking me to do things to you that would put me in jail.
Nobody ever asks for a shattered, rotten heart with a side of fuck you, smothered in I know you are hesitant to take me back but I'm not lying even though I'm lying sprinkled with fake proof to make you take your guard down to make you love me so I can smash your soul.
And if you are handed that concoction and you find yourself starting to sound like Nancy Kerigan, the only reaction that is healthy, is to say "Fuck you, I'm out" and go get drunk with your best friends. And maybe screw one or two of his.
I have never taken crap from anyone in a relationship. I don't know why the past 7 years have been so different for me. It has been nothing short of a disaster of epic proportions, both emotionally and spiritually.
I keep feeling like the same thing just keeps recycling itself. The same lies, the same hurt feelings, the same love and hatred, the same broken dreams and shattered hopes, all the same crap, just rolling and tumbling around in the dryer with the dirty laundry and you never know what is going to pop out when you open the door. Of course it never matches up with what you're hoping to find in the moment. No specific peice of B.S. to match your shoes; you just wind up with leopard print and paisley leaving the house hoping that nobody notices and it ends badly. Always.
People don't stop to think about who is being affected by the bullshit. It's not just me. I have kids that loved him too. I can take it - tossing away old news is becoming second fiddle to me. To ask them to is also asking me to do things to you that would put me in jail.
Nobody ever asks for a shattered, rotten heart with a side of fuck you, smothered in I know you are hesitant to take me back but I'm not lying even though I'm lying sprinkled with fake proof to make you take your guard down to make you love me so I can smash your soul.
And if you are handed that concoction and you find yourself starting to sound like Nancy Kerigan, the only reaction that is healthy, is to say "Fuck you, I'm out" and go get drunk with your best friends. And maybe screw one or two of his.
Sunday, August 9, 2015
Clocks
The thing with broken clocks
Is that you can always tell
When they stopped ticking.
With people it isn't so easy
And sometimes
You can't even tell
They're broken.
I'm going to say Author Unknown, because the internet is wonderful for memes of the same quote with ten different author credits.
A male friend once told me that talking to me about relationships was as entertaining as throwing a cat in a pool.
This conversation also took place mid 20's therapy after my therapist tried to get me to understand why I keep everyone at arms length.
Relationships are hard. They become harder after what feels like that hundredth date ended in "You're wonderful, but I don't want kids".
Understanding the rage I get filled with when I am told how strong people think I am for being a single parent and "doing it entirely on my own". Then if I tell them my story they look at me and say, "But you seem so normal, I never would have thought..." Preconceived notions and all that jazz. They have no idea.
I do and say kind things because I think everyone deserves it sometimes. I have seen a lot of dark and sometimes it's just nice to get a compliment from a stranger who didn't have to give me one. Sometimes it feels like I'm driven to do it by a need for approval. Like, "If I get this one thing juuust right then...."
It's taken a lot for me to realize that I am not destroyed.
Even a broken clock is right twice a day.
Saturday, August 8, 2015
The Great Dentist Debacle
I know that I am not alone in my phobia of the dentist, but mine has not come from nothing. I am not going to hide it; the last time I went to the dentist was 19 years ago.
There. I admitted it.
When I was a kid, I loved the dentist. But at the same time, in a small town businesses are just like that. You see everyone at the store, they treat you like they've known you 100 years and they ask you how you're doing and about your family. You get the idea.
I got braces when I was 9. Something that by the way, I would never do to a child that is not done growing unless there is something seriously wrong, but I'm not the professional. I can still remember the excruciating pain of having my elastics changed each month. I wasn't able to eat for days. I had oral surgery to have 4 teeth pulled before they could even put them on. I still have nightmares. I will never live down throwing up in my dad's car - my mom thought it was a great idea to have it done on a Friday so that he could deal with me half dead for the weekend so she didn't have to.
I got the braces off when I was 13. Afterwards, I still had a gap in between my front teeth. Also there were the infamous yellow spots that I still have to this day that I have tried everything in my power to take off to no avail.
Kids are not kind.
I went to the dentist a few more times, addressed the spots with them. During cleanings I am near tears in so much pain my teeth were left so sensitive. I am told that there is nothing that can be done, that it is part of my enamel and short of getting veneers I'm screwed.
The last time I went to the dentist I was 15, it was some random person in Belfast my mother took me to. He was old, had a huge pot belly and a bulbous red nose common in those in the advanced stages of alcoholism. I told him that my teeth were sensitive and that he was hurting me, and he replied by holding my head down with his forearm while I bawled and him causing so much damage to my mouth that it bled for 2 weeks after the appointment. I don't remember his name.
In my 20's I didn't have dental coverage and the only time I have gone in between was when I had to get my wisdom tooth pulled as an emergency, during which I bawled like a baby and almost hyperventilated and passed out.
When I first worked for my previous unnamed, big box wireless phone company and got dental insurance I went for a visit to a dentist in Bangor that I won't name. They took x-rays, were very condescending and rude. They thought that I would come back for 10 visits to have one thing done and then another, all needing to take time off of work because they were the "ship them in and out without really doing anything and keep charging for office visits" kind of place. They're on Union St. That's all I'm going to say. I didn't go back after having the x-rays done.
Fast forward to now, at the age of 34.
I was convinced my teeth were ruined. I was convinced that I had a million cavities. I brush twice a day and floss most of the time. Clearly it was not enough.
Last Monday, I thought I broke a tooth. In a panic I called a local dental office that was covered under my employer's dental plan. I have heard nothing but good things about this place so I was feeling pretty good about it. Fast forward to Thursday.
I went to leave 15 minutes before my appointment and the car battery was dead. That's not a good sign... It was my fault. Wednesday evening we had a bad thunderstorm and I remembered half way through it that not only did I leave my windows rolled down, but my sun roof was open too. The rain was coming down so hard that I couldn't see the river 20 yards from my house. While I was out in the torrential downpour, lightening struck down on the river front by my house and in my panic to get back to the house before Mother Nature killed me, I left the keys in the ignition still turned on. I booked it up the road, all uphill. I walk twice that length almost daily, but I plan to do that and am ready for it. By the time I got there I was pretty sure that I was near death, but I made it and I was on time. I was pretty sure that I was never going to stop sweating, but I was ok.
The hygienist I met was amazing. The kindest little old lady you'll ever meet in your life. She has been a dentist longer than I've been alive and she knows her stuff.
Come to find out: I have no cavities!! The tooth I "broke" just turned out to be disgustingness that came off the back of my tooth. Embarrassing, yes. I met with the dentist after the hygienist was almost done. She was amazed that I didn't have cavities. She is very confident that my tooth that is higher than the rest of them can be shaved down to be in line with the rest of my teeth. And then, she looked at my spots. She was livid that I was told that there was nothing that could be done, it was glue left over from my braces that was never taken off.
Glue.
FUCKING GLUE!!!!
Of course all the treatments I tried didn't work. They only work on enamel and not other things. This stuff is designed so that acid doesn't erode it away and ruin the braces when they're mounted on your teeth. I drove myself crazy for nothing. She did joke that not all Orthodontists use yellow glue, some use blue, or purple. I'm glad I got yellow. I cannot imagine what the last 21 years would have been like with blue teeth.
Relief on a level that I can't describe. I feel like I have my life back. I go back on the 20th of this month to have the rest of the work done, but just from the cleaning it has made a world of difference in how my entire mouth feels.
I am unafraid of so much, and yet this was always the one thing holding me back.
If anyone is looking for a dentist, I recommend Fort View Dental.
There. I admitted it.
When I was a kid, I loved the dentist. But at the same time, in a small town businesses are just like that. You see everyone at the store, they treat you like they've known you 100 years and they ask you how you're doing and about your family. You get the idea.
I got braces when I was 9. Something that by the way, I would never do to a child that is not done growing unless there is something seriously wrong, but I'm not the professional. I can still remember the excruciating pain of having my elastics changed each month. I wasn't able to eat for days. I had oral surgery to have 4 teeth pulled before they could even put them on. I still have nightmares. I will never live down throwing up in my dad's car - my mom thought it was a great idea to have it done on a Friday so that he could deal with me half dead for the weekend so she didn't have to.
I got the braces off when I was 13. Afterwards, I still had a gap in between my front teeth. Also there were the infamous yellow spots that I still have to this day that I have tried everything in my power to take off to no avail.
Kids are not kind.
I went to the dentist a few more times, addressed the spots with them. During cleanings I am near tears in so much pain my teeth were left so sensitive. I am told that there is nothing that can be done, that it is part of my enamel and short of getting veneers I'm screwed.
The last time I went to the dentist I was 15, it was some random person in Belfast my mother took me to. He was old, had a huge pot belly and a bulbous red nose common in those in the advanced stages of alcoholism. I told him that my teeth were sensitive and that he was hurting me, and he replied by holding my head down with his forearm while I bawled and him causing so much damage to my mouth that it bled for 2 weeks after the appointment. I don't remember his name.
In my 20's I didn't have dental coverage and the only time I have gone in between was when I had to get my wisdom tooth pulled as an emergency, during which I bawled like a baby and almost hyperventilated and passed out.
When I first worked for my previous unnamed, big box wireless phone company and got dental insurance I went for a visit to a dentist in Bangor that I won't name. They took x-rays, were very condescending and rude. They thought that I would come back for 10 visits to have one thing done and then another, all needing to take time off of work because they were the "ship them in and out without really doing anything and keep charging for office visits" kind of place. They're on Union St. That's all I'm going to say. I didn't go back after having the x-rays done.
Fast forward to now, at the age of 34.
I was convinced my teeth were ruined. I was convinced that I had a million cavities. I brush twice a day and floss most of the time. Clearly it was not enough.
Last Monday, I thought I broke a tooth. In a panic I called a local dental office that was covered under my employer's dental plan. I have heard nothing but good things about this place so I was feeling pretty good about it. Fast forward to Thursday.
I went to leave 15 minutes before my appointment and the car battery was dead. That's not a good sign... It was my fault. Wednesday evening we had a bad thunderstorm and I remembered half way through it that not only did I leave my windows rolled down, but my sun roof was open too. The rain was coming down so hard that I couldn't see the river 20 yards from my house. While I was out in the torrential downpour, lightening struck down on the river front by my house and in my panic to get back to the house before Mother Nature killed me, I left the keys in the ignition still turned on. I booked it up the road, all uphill. I walk twice that length almost daily, but I plan to do that and am ready for it. By the time I got there I was pretty sure that I was near death, but I made it and I was on time. I was pretty sure that I was never going to stop sweating, but I was ok.
The hygienist I met was amazing. The kindest little old lady you'll ever meet in your life. She has been a dentist longer than I've been alive and she knows her stuff.
Come to find out: I have no cavities!! The tooth I "broke" just turned out to be disgustingness that came off the back of my tooth. Embarrassing, yes. I met with the dentist after the hygienist was almost done. She was amazed that I didn't have cavities. She is very confident that my tooth that is higher than the rest of them can be shaved down to be in line with the rest of my teeth. And then, she looked at my spots. She was livid that I was told that there was nothing that could be done, it was glue left over from my braces that was never taken off.
Glue.
FUCKING GLUE!!!!
Of course all the treatments I tried didn't work. They only work on enamel and not other things. This stuff is designed so that acid doesn't erode it away and ruin the braces when they're mounted on your teeth. I drove myself crazy for nothing. She did joke that not all Orthodontists use yellow glue, some use blue, or purple. I'm glad I got yellow. I cannot imagine what the last 21 years would have been like with blue teeth.
Relief on a level that I can't describe. I feel like I have my life back. I go back on the 20th of this month to have the rest of the work done, but just from the cleaning it has made a world of difference in how my entire mouth feels.
I am unafraid of so much, and yet this was always the one thing holding me back.
If anyone is looking for a dentist, I recommend Fort View Dental.
Friday, July 31, 2015
Blue Moon
In my last post, I shared my need for minions. But upon reflection I realized that I would never get anything done, ever, because cuteness. I think a man servant would be much better.
I don't know what it is about me that makes me so easy to talk to, but I've been getting that a lot lately. I'm so easy to talk to. I guess it's a good thing. Maybe it's code for I'm not an asshole. I like that better. Maybe I should start charging.
Last night was a Blue Moon. I guess what they say about "Once in a Blue Moon" has some merit to it. Never has anyone left my life and come back, not only admitting that they were wrong for doing it but apologizing for it. I don't think that I can say never, maybe twice in the 34 years that I've been alive. I really hate having unanswered questions, so I've learned to stop asking them. Either you want to be a part of my life, or you don't. That choice has no bearing on who I am. All I can say in this particular situation is that without saying a thing, this person was gone. Our last contact was me opening myself up and discussing things that I haven't talked about in a long time. I opened myself up and they judged me. Or that's what I took the disappearance as anyway.
Here's the thing: I am open about my past. It's mine to have made peace with, and for the most part I have. I am open about who I am as a person in general. I was a big slut, but I'm not anymore. There were things that brought that side of me out that I didn't know how to handle and I don't tell everyone about. There's always gonna be a part of me that's sloppy and dirty and really hard to love, but I like that along with all of my other parts. Can you say the same about yourself? You may not have experienced the same things that I have, you may not be into the same things that I am, but you love hearing about it. If you are that special kind of asshole, see yourself out of my life before I realize what a douchebag you really are.
In other news:
The house failed inspection. Not because of anything that I did, the state fire marshall code changed on the bedroom windows, they have to have at least one window that opens about 7 inches more than they do in each bedroom. Also there was a peice of siding/flashing missing from the eve on top of the house so it either needs to be replaced or painted. It had to have been something that happened when the roof was done last summer. 2 of the stove burners don't work. They used to work if they were positioned just right, but now not at all. In past years, they've said that they would put it in the report and haven't. This year they're including it, or at least I hope. It would be nice to have a fully working stove, but I've managed to adapt. The only time that I would really need it is Thanksgiving. I cook every day, but not to the point where I need all the burners. He also said that the dryer vent was undone, which I did because I took it off to clean it only to find that it needs replacing because there's a couple of cracks in it. I'm sure that duct tape would fix it just fine but I'd rather not take the chance and die. What can I say, I have a penchant for worst case scenario at all times, it's how I was raised.
Met my son's new therapist Wednesday. I think that this will be a great fit for the time being. His services are for 90 days at a time with a max of 6 months, then he will resume with the prior one that he loves.
I was braiding my daughter's hair yesterday for the first time since she was in 3rd grade. She decided that she wanted it chopped off pixie length. I cut it and it looks pretty cute, but she wants it shorter on top. We decided to give it a couple of days. I think women of color with buzzed hair looks really beautiful. She can rock anything and be gorgeous. She also needs bigger bras. Gods help me.
I took this weekend off. 6 months ago we started planning a family reunion, that has now fizzled out because of whatever reason and has, as far as I know, turned into just a bbq gathering, which isn't that what family reunions are? I don't understand why everything has to be approached with such a flair for the dramatic. Set a time and date, whoever wants to be there because you're important to them will come. They had 6 months to plan for it, not like it's new news, but some are acting like they must have a hand delivered invite on parchment with the finest calligraphy or else they're not important enough to come. I love everyone and I'm happy to see family when I see them, but if you are really the kind of person to be stuck up your own asshole enough for this crap, then I got nothing. You were told about it, you had plenty of time to plan accordingly. Go. To. Hell.
Getting the car fixed Wednesday. The mechanic I spoke with told me that Saturn's are pretty straight forward so it should be 2-3 hours of labor. I like this person, my grandparents go to him for all of their car repairs. It helps that there's a pretty good view, if you catch my drift. If I hadn't had a mechanically inclined boyfriend over the past 7 years I would have too. A lot nicer than any of the other shops that I spoke with. I got a fantastic deal on the part at Green Point Auto in Brewer, $65 for a part that the median cost online was $175-225. I called around and got quotes without needing any alcohol, sedatives or bail money. It's quite an accomplishment if I do say so myself. Ask me again Wednesday how I'm doing. I pray that this is all that's all that it needs. I really can't take another thing going wrong. I still need to fix my window. I'm just afraid that I'm going to take it apart and that I either can't fix it myself and need to phone a man friend or that something else will go horribly awry.
That, and I also realized that I have an appointment Wednesday morning here at work that I cannot cancel or I lose out on $100 towards my yearly benefit payback. Maybe I can borrow a car from someone.
It would be great if things would just stop going crazy so I can stop having to act normal.
I don't know what it is about me that makes me so easy to talk to, but I've been getting that a lot lately. I'm so easy to talk to. I guess it's a good thing. Maybe it's code for I'm not an asshole. I like that better. Maybe I should start charging.
Last night was a Blue Moon. I guess what they say about "Once in a Blue Moon" has some merit to it. Never has anyone left my life and come back, not only admitting that they were wrong for doing it but apologizing for it. I don't think that I can say never, maybe twice in the 34 years that I've been alive. I really hate having unanswered questions, so I've learned to stop asking them. Either you want to be a part of my life, or you don't. That choice has no bearing on who I am. All I can say in this particular situation is that without saying a thing, this person was gone. Our last contact was me opening myself up and discussing things that I haven't talked about in a long time. I opened myself up and they judged me. Or that's what I took the disappearance as anyway.
Here's the thing: I am open about my past. It's mine to have made peace with, and for the most part I have. I am open about who I am as a person in general. I was a big slut, but I'm not anymore. There were things that brought that side of me out that I didn't know how to handle and I don't tell everyone about. There's always gonna be a part of me that's sloppy and dirty and really hard to love, but I like that along with all of my other parts. Can you say the same about yourself? You may not have experienced the same things that I have, you may not be into the same things that I am, but you love hearing about it. If you are that special kind of asshole, see yourself out of my life before I realize what a douchebag you really are.
In other news:
The house failed inspection. Not because of anything that I did, the state fire marshall code changed on the bedroom windows, they have to have at least one window that opens about 7 inches more than they do in each bedroom. Also there was a peice of siding/flashing missing from the eve on top of the house so it either needs to be replaced or painted. It had to have been something that happened when the roof was done last summer. 2 of the stove burners don't work. They used to work if they were positioned just right, but now not at all. In past years, they've said that they would put it in the report and haven't. This year they're including it, or at least I hope. It would be nice to have a fully working stove, but I've managed to adapt. The only time that I would really need it is Thanksgiving. I cook every day, but not to the point where I need all the burners. He also said that the dryer vent was undone, which I did because I took it off to clean it only to find that it needs replacing because there's a couple of cracks in it. I'm sure that duct tape would fix it just fine but I'd rather not take the chance and die. What can I say, I have a penchant for worst case scenario at all times, it's how I was raised.
Met my son's new therapist Wednesday. I think that this will be a great fit for the time being. His services are for 90 days at a time with a max of 6 months, then he will resume with the prior one that he loves.
I was braiding my daughter's hair yesterday for the first time since she was in 3rd grade. She decided that she wanted it chopped off pixie length. I cut it and it looks pretty cute, but she wants it shorter on top. We decided to give it a couple of days. I think women of color with buzzed hair looks really beautiful. She can rock anything and be gorgeous. She also needs bigger bras. Gods help me.
I took this weekend off. 6 months ago we started planning a family reunion, that has now fizzled out because of whatever reason and has, as far as I know, turned into just a bbq gathering, which isn't that what family reunions are? I don't understand why everything has to be approached with such a flair for the dramatic. Set a time and date, whoever wants to be there because you're important to them will come. They had 6 months to plan for it, not like it's new news, but some are acting like they must have a hand delivered invite on parchment with the finest calligraphy or else they're not important enough to come. I love everyone and I'm happy to see family when I see them, but if you are really the kind of person to be stuck up your own asshole enough for this crap, then I got nothing. You were told about it, you had plenty of time to plan accordingly. Go. To. Hell.
Getting the car fixed Wednesday. The mechanic I spoke with told me that Saturn's are pretty straight forward so it should be 2-3 hours of labor. I like this person, my grandparents go to him for all of their car repairs. It helps that there's a pretty good view, if you catch my drift. If I hadn't had a mechanically inclined boyfriend over the past 7 years I would have too. A lot nicer than any of the other shops that I spoke with. I got a fantastic deal on the part at Green Point Auto in Brewer, $65 for a part that the median cost online was $175-225. I called around and got quotes without needing any alcohol, sedatives or bail money. It's quite an accomplishment if I do say so myself. Ask me again Wednesday how I'm doing. I pray that this is all that's all that it needs. I really can't take another thing going wrong. I still need to fix my window. I'm just afraid that I'm going to take it apart and that I either can't fix it myself and need to phone a man friend or that something else will go horribly awry.
That, and I also realized that I have an appointment Wednesday morning here at work that I cannot cancel or I lose out on $100 towards my yearly benefit payback. Maybe I can borrow a car from someone.
It would be great if things would just stop going crazy so I can stop having to act normal.
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
Pin Curls & Disasters
Oye.
The sentiment is pretty much all I can muster lately.
Found out what was wrong with the car. Don't ask. I can't even.
Had a shoot Friday. It was on the waterfront at 3 am. I wore a Marilyn Monroe replica dress. The shoot wasn't planned, it just worked out that I already had my hair and makeup done. I had my hair done in pin curls for work because afterwards I was planning to have a couple of drinks with a friend for her birthday. The last time I tried on the dress it was horrifyingly ugly on me, but this time it looked fantastic. Hooray for weight loss and going an entire week without a flair up.
I almost didn't go out with my friend, but I did. As I explained it to her: She is going to have a birthday every year, whereas I may never get laid again. So therefore anytime there is a possibility of that happening, it is going to trump everything else. I met her boyfriend. He is a nice guy. I hope she keeps this one.
I get failed relationships and the reasons behind them, nobody really knows what happens behind the scenes. It's just that when you're the kind of person who's always searching for something else in every aspect of your life, and things are evolving and changing at warp speed because you just can't seem to be happy with anything as it is, should you really make someone else have to keep up with you?
I guess I don't understand the concept of change. I like things to be consistant. As much as I like the adventure of trying new things brings (giggle snort, some of you know what I am implying), at my core I really, really like consistency. With that said, someone has caught my attention that I can't ignore. Out of fear that they're reading this, which I doubt, I won't go into details. It's just that when you have dreamed about this sort of person your entire life and suddenly they appear completely by accident (or seemingly so) you get thrown off kilter a little with a great big HOLY CRAP!
I screwed up big time and wrote the date of my house inspection as being tomorrow instead of today. I'm sure it won't fail, but it is a disaster. Teens are great for helping in that process. I'm ready to throw everything out the door. The lawn mower won't work, again. I've tried 3x this week to get it running to no avail. Outside looks like I'm losing a game of Jumanji. Normally I would just sit back and suck in the nostalgia, but the stress is becoming overwhelming. I couldn't sleep last night because I pumped myself full of caffeine trying to stay awake getting stuff done around the house. I need clones. Or minions.
Balancing on a double edged sword is something is something that I am either failing at or really good at and it feels more often than not that it's happening at the same time.
The sentiment is pretty much all I can muster lately.
Found out what was wrong with the car. Don't ask. I can't even.
Had a shoot Friday. It was on the waterfront at 3 am. I wore a Marilyn Monroe replica dress. The shoot wasn't planned, it just worked out that I already had my hair and makeup done. I had my hair done in pin curls for work because afterwards I was planning to have a couple of drinks with a friend for her birthday. The last time I tried on the dress it was horrifyingly ugly on me, but this time it looked fantastic. Hooray for weight loss and going an entire week without a flair up.
I almost didn't go out with my friend, but I did. As I explained it to her: She is going to have a birthday every year, whereas I may never get laid again. So therefore anytime there is a possibility of that happening, it is going to trump everything else. I met her boyfriend. He is a nice guy. I hope she keeps this one.
I get failed relationships and the reasons behind them, nobody really knows what happens behind the scenes. It's just that when you're the kind of person who's always searching for something else in every aspect of your life, and things are evolving and changing at warp speed because you just can't seem to be happy with anything as it is, should you really make someone else have to keep up with you?
I guess I don't understand the concept of change. I like things to be consistant. As much as I like the adventure of trying new things brings (giggle snort, some of you know what I am implying), at my core I really, really like consistency. With that said, someone has caught my attention that I can't ignore. Out of fear that they're reading this, which I doubt, I won't go into details. It's just that when you have dreamed about this sort of person your entire life and suddenly they appear completely by accident (or seemingly so) you get thrown off kilter a little with a great big HOLY CRAP!
I screwed up big time and wrote the date of my house inspection as being tomorrow instead of today. I'm sure it won't fail, but it is a disaster. Teens are great for helping in that process. I'm ready to throw everything out the door. The lawn mower won't work, again. I've tried 3x this week to get it running to no avail. Outside looks like I'm losing a game of Jumanji. Normally I would just sit back and suck in the nostalgia, but the stress is becoming overwhelming. I couldn't sleep last night because I pumped myself full of caffeine trying to stay awake getting stuff done around the house. I need clones. Or minions.
Balancing on a double edged sword is something is something that I am either failing at or really good at and it feels more often than not that it's happening at the same time.
Friday, July 24, 2015
Existential Crisis
I don't know if that's what I've been experiencing lately, but it feels like it.
I have managed to spend almost every waking moment of this day questioning every decision I've made over the past 7 months.
I almost don't feel like my life at this point has any direction.
When you get frustrated with someone you just want to scream in their face, "What the hell do you want?"
What do I want?
Do I want to date? No. I just want the love of my life to randomly show up and tell me that I'm his kind of weirdo and that he loves me and then we'll be together in our weirdness forever. However, this is the real world, nobody has figured out how to make my idea of a Mr. Perfect Delivery work; therefore, if I want to find someone to spend forever with, I need to date. Or hide in my house in my pj's that I will inevitably go to the store in and ignore every sign the Universe throws my way that someone has a thing for me. Signs, I don't get them. They don't even go over my head, they just kamikaze themselves into the concrete barrier my brain had set up around itself that "gets" that part of human behavior.
Do I want to do chores around the house? No. I just want the kids to be able to pick up a damn cup once in awhile. Then my house might not look like a tornado sucked up everything in the house and someone threw a bomb into the funnel. I'm still working on that one.
Do I want to work? Of course! I love to work. I love to interact with people of all sorts like my current job allows me to do. I would also like the freedom to be able to work when I am not feeling like I want to die because my body and it's dumb autoimmune stuff won't cut the crap. However, being that I am not financially stable enough to be able to do that, work on a schedule that is not my own I must. I kind of like being able to have consistency and having two weekdays off allows the kids and I to do fun things without every place we go to for fun being a mad house like it would be on the weekend, and during the school year I get some time to myself during the day.
In other news:
Now for my body's next trick: memory loss. Seriously. I've lost entire conversations that I had an hour before. I misuse or forget the simplest of words in conversation (I've edited this blog 3x before posting) and get confused by the dumbest things. My doctor thinks that my last concussion that I didn't tell him about (when I flipped my kayak last year) is something I should have told him about - it's been going on since then. I've tried to explain it away but I really can't anymore, since it's happening when there isn't an explaination for it. I'm being referred to a neurologist. My swalllowing trouble still continues, but tis the story of every EOE sufferer and it comes and goes with my "cycle", as does every other problem my body goes through each month. Still waiting on hearing from scheduling for my next EGD. Man, I really won the "Rare Autoimmune Disorder" lottery, not. I'd like to know what contest in Hell I won, because I'd like to go back to when that was and make sure that I lose instead.
My son had a fantastic time at camp. Everything that he left with came back in one piece. Except for him, he grew another 2 inches while he was away and can now reach stuff on the top shelf at the grocery store and get his own cup in the kitchen. My heart cries a little every time I witness it.
The car exhaust is fixed, and now has a strange thing going on with the front end that I can't explain, being a girl with little car repair experience. Something isn't connected to something that it's supposed to be, or is ready to go. Or at least it feels that way. Could just be air in the tires. My luck tells me something else.
Daughters, children for that matter, but this time specifically my daughter, are for raising, not understanding. For example, the grocery list my daughter sent me via text when I went shopping this morning. I asked her what she wanted. She responded, and I quote: "Oreo ice cream, brussel sprouts, ham, cheddar cheese, potato chips and maple syrup." I am quickly learning not to ask questions. She is most definitely my child.
I have managed to spend almost every waking moment of this day questioning every decision I've made over the past 7 months.
I almost don't feel like my life at this point has any direction.
When you get frustrated with someone you just want to scream in their face, "What the hell do you want?"
What do I want?
Do I want to date? No. I just want the love of my life to randomly show up and tell me that I'm his kind of weirdo and that he loves me and then we'll be together in our weirdness forever. However, this is the real world, nobody has figured out how to make my idea of a Mr. Perfect Delivery work; therefore, if I want to find someone to spend forever with, I need to date. Or hide in my house in my pj's that I will inevitably go to the store in and ignore every sign the Universe throws my way that someone has a thing for me. Signs, I don't get them. They don't even go over my head, they just kamikaze themselves into the concrete barrier my brain had set up around itself that "gets" that part of human behavior.
Do I want to do chores around the house? No. I just want the kids to be able to pick up a damn cup once in awhile. Then my house might not look like a tornado sucked up everything in the house and someone threw a bomb into the funnel. I'm still working on that one.
Do I want to work? Of course! I love to work. I love to interact with people of all sorts like my current job allows me to do. I would also like the freedom to be able to work when I am not feeling like I want to die because my body and it's dumb autoimmune stuff won't cut the crap. However, being that I am not financially stable enough to be able to do that, work on a schedule that is not my own I must. I kind of like being able to have consistency and having two weekdays off allows the kids and I to do fun things without every place we go to for fun being a mad house like it would be on the weekend, and during the school year I get some time to myself during the day.
In other news:
Now for my body's next trick: memory loss. Seriously. I've lost entire conversations that I had an hour before. I misuse or forget the simplest of words in conversation (I've edited this blog 3x before posting) and get confused by the dumbest things. My doctor thinks that my last concussion that I didn't tell him about (when I flipped my kayak last year) is something I should have told him about - it's been going on since then. I've tried to explain it away but I really can't anymore, since it's happening when there isn't an explaination for it. I'm being referred to a neurologist. My swalllowing trouble still continues, but tis the story of every EOE sufferer and it comes and goes with my "cycle", as does every other problem my body goes through each month. Still waiting on hearing from scheduling for my next EGD. Man, I really won the "Rare Autoimmune Disorder" lottery, not. I'd like to know what contest in Hell I won, because I'd like to go back to when that was and make sure that I lose instead.
My son had a fantastic time at camp. Everything that he left with came back in one piece. Except for him, he grew another 2 inches while he was away and can now reach stuff on the top shelf at the grocery store and get his own cup in the kitchen. My heart cries a little every time I witness it.
The car exhaust is fixed, and now has a strange thing going on with the front end that I can't explain, being a girl with little car repair experience. Something isn't connected to something that it's supposed to be, or is ready to go. Or at least it feels that way. Could just be air in the tires. My luck tells me something else.
Daughters, children for that matter, but this time specifically my daughter, are for raising, not understanding. For example, the grocery list my daughter sent me via text when I went shopping this morning. I asked her what she wanted. She responded, and I quote: "Oreo ice cream, brussel sprouts, ham, cheddar cheese, potato chips and maple syrup." I am quickly learning not to ask questions. She is most definitely my child.
Saturday, July 18, 2015
Blarg...
I get tired of being the only adult in the house sometimes. This week being one of them. I have a million things to do and I don’t want to do any of it. Seriously, all week I felt like a defiant 5 year old who needed a nap so bad that they threw everything they touched. Thank gods I have people in my life that I can vent to who, surprisingly, have not run screaming - yet anyway.
I want to date and fall in love. But my experience with relationships pretty much goes as follows: Imagine getting a puppy on Christmas morning. Someone took their time lovingly wrapping the box they picked out just for you. Maybe added a ribbon or two for extra flair to prove how much they love you. And then when you open it, you find the most demonic pet that anyone would hope to never have that ruins your, albeit somewhat delusional, vision of long walks on the beach during sunset. They instead try to kill you in your sleep or live a double life with their previous owner or disappear without a trace, never to be seen or heard from again with no explanation as to why.
Men are like blenders. You are really, really sure that you are need one when you don’t have one, but you’re not sure what for once you get it. Not a very nice analogy, I know. Don’t ever accuse me of having tact. I quit that crap years ago.
I see all these awesome relationships going very well all around me and it almost feels like I’m window shopping for what I want (and things that I will run screaming from) in a relationship. I really can’t handle not being able to do what I want when I want to do it or having to explain why I like space so much. It’s probably because I’m not really sure myself. I do have to admit though, that sleeping in the bed and being able to hog the entire thing is kind of nice.
I digress.
This week without my son has been nice with just my daughter. She wants almost nothing to do with me most of the time unless it involves food, but I’m pretty sure that goes for most parents of teens. We’ve eaten our fair share of “girl food”, healthy stuff my son won’t touch with a 10 ft. pole. Watched some movies. Red Eye and Fight Club were both fantastic. I tried brussel sprouts for the first time since I was a kid. I love them and can’t get enough of them. She and I actually fight over them. Just want to throw an apologetic shout out to my mom for every one that I gagged on as a kid. These things are pretty delicious! Don’t ask me to try beets.
Thursday we went to camp. My brother moved the key location and thought it would be ok not to tell anyone – that was fun. Thankfully I knew where the spare is. Rei broke my fishing pole and I made her wade out to get it. The water was only waist deep but she acted like she was dying nonetheless. I can’t blame her, she had to walk into the weeds to get it. I instantly panic and am convinced something is going to lunge out and eat me any time one of them touches me when I’m swimming. The bugs weren’t as bad as they had been when I went there the week before. Didn’t catch anything, but not surprised because we went in the middle of the day. The dogs loved it. Jack loves to swim, only he won’t go out on his own. He stands on shore with a shit-eating grin on his face waiting for me to come pick him up, wade out to my waist and then let him swim back to shore and do it all over again. Then he runs around like someone lit a rocket out of his ass. It was the first time that I took Riley with us. She was still unsure of the water at first. Then Rei pushed her off the dock accidentally. To our surprise, she swam back to shore, got back on the dock and jumped off. She only did it once, then she got onto shore and rolled in the pine needles and dirt so I had to drag her back into the water to rinse her off. Australian Shepherds and their damn double coat!
The boy child left for camp without a hitch and is being picked up by my dad. I am dying to hear all the details about it. I sent him with his backpack that was still in brand new shape for school without thinking. Hope it’s still in one piece. My son (and most boys I know) are so rough with their backpacks that I had to replace it 3x last year, much to the chagrin of my wallet. And he grew!! This spring he pulled an Incredible Hulk and had literally NOTHING to wear, so in a bind I had to go to goodwill and buy a bunch of pants that fit him in the waist and have my mom hem them. They are now like Capri pants. Also he went from a kid’s size 5 shoe to men’s 8. Tell me about it, **face palm**. Thank gods all of his shorts fit him from last year.
My daughter has always been a loner. She likes being by herself. Like me, she prefers quiet. Anytime we’ve gone swimming or to camp, she is instantly ready to go. She has yet to contact any of her school friends to do anything. I’m almost concerned, but she just doesn’t care.
I am a little less concerned about the car issue. It runs. It gets me to where I need to go. And my son is still thankful we have a really safe imaginary motorcycle.
It’s the little things.
I want to date and fall in love. But my experience with relationships pretty much goes as follows: Imagine getting a puppy on Christmas morning. Someone took their time lovingly wrapping the box they picked out just for you. Maybe added a ribbon or two for extra flair to prove how much they love you. And then when you open it, you find the most demonic pet that anyone would hope to never have that ruins your, albeit somewhat delusional, vision of long walks on the beach during sunset. They instead try to kill you in your sleep or live a double life with their previous owner or disappear without a trace, never to be seen or heard from again with no explanation as to why.
Men are like blenders. You are really, really sure that you are need one when you don’t have one, but you’re not sure what for once you get it. Not a very nice analogy, I know. Don’t ever accuse me of having tact. I quit that crap years ago.
I see all these awesome relationships going very well all around me and it almost feels like I’m window shopping for what I want (and things that I will run screaming from) in a relationship. I really can’t handle not being able to do what I want when I want to do it or having to explain why I like space so much. It’s probably because I’m not really sure myself. I do have to admit though, that sleeping in the bed and being able to hog the entire thing is kind of nice.
I digress.
This week without my son has been nice with just my daughter. She wants almost nothing to do with me most of the time unless it involves food, but I’m pretty sure that goes for most parents of teens. We’ve eaten our fair share of “girl food”, healthy stuff my son won’t touch with a 10 ft. pole. Watched some movies. Red Eye and Fight Club were both fantastic. I tried brussel sprouts for the first time since I was a kid. I love them and can’t get enough of them. She and I actually fight over them. Just want to throw an apologetic shout out to my mom for every one that I gagged on as a kid. These things are pretty delicious! Don’t ask me to try beets.
Thursday we went to camp. My brother moved the key location and thought it would be ok not to tell anyone – that was fun. Thankfully I knew where the spare is. Rei broke my fishing pole and I made her wade out to get it. The water was only waist deep but she acted like she was dying nonetheless. I can’t blame her, she had to walk into the weeds to get it. I instantly panic and am convinced something is going to lunge out and eat me any time one of them touches me when I’m swimming. The bugs weren’t as bad as they had been when I went there the week before. Didn’t catch anything, but not surprised because we went in the middle of the day. The dogs loved it. Jack loves to swim, only he won’t go out on his own. He stands on shore with a shit-eating grin on his face waiting for me to come pick him up, wade out to my waist and then let him swim back to shore and do it all over again. Then he runs around like someone lit a rocket out of his ass. It was the first time that I took Riley with us. She was still unsure of the water at first. Then Rei pushed her off the dock accidentally. To our surprise, she swam back to shore, got back on the dock and jumped off. She only did it once, then she got onto shore and rolled in the pine needles and dirt so I had to drag her back into the water to rinse her off. Australian Shepherds and their damn double coat!
The boy child left for camp without a hitch and is being picked up by my dad. I am dying to hear all the details about it. I sent him with his backpack that was still in brand new shape for school without thinking. Hope it’s still in one piece. My son (and most boys I know) are so rough with their backpacks that I had to replace it 3x last year, much to the chagrin of my wallet. And he grew!! This spring he pulled an Incredible Hulk and had literally NOTHING to wear, so in a bind I had to go to goodwill and buy a bunch of pants that fit him in the waist and have my mom hem them. They are now like Capri pants. Also he went from a kid’s size 5 shoe to men’s 8. Tell me about it, **face palm**. Thank gods all of his shorts fit him from last year.
My daughter has always been a loner. She likes being by herself. Like me, she prefers quiet. Anytime we’ve gone swimming or to camp, she is instantly ready to go. She has yet to contact any of her school friends to do anything. I’m almost concerned, but she just doesn’t care.
I am a little less concerned about the car issue. It runs. It gets me to where I need to go. And my son is still thankful we have a really safe imaginary motorcycle.
It’s the little things.
Friday, July 17, 2015
Forgot To Post, Created Last Week.
Many things have happened since my last writing:
Of course when things are uneventful the way I like them to be I have almost nothing to write about :)
My son turned 12 last Thursday. He and I had our one on one celebration like we do every year. This year we did Pizza Hut and went to see Jurrassic World. Then on his birthday, I cooked dinner and brought it over to dad's. High five to the fact that I didn't spend the entire day in tears!
Dad signed him up for the Boy Scouts AND signed him up for summer camp for the week. My son might has well have been told he was given all the gummy bears in the world (or maybe I'm the only person on the planet who would be elated about that). He is over the moon excited. This is something that he has wanted to do since he was 6.
4th of July weekend came and went. Spent the evening after work
The camp road is cleared. My sister in law got a friend to help her cut and move them. The kids and I went down Sunday. She and I did some cleanup to the yard. My soul is at peace knowing that I am now able to get to it. Thinking that next week while my son is away my daughter and I will spend a couple of days down there.
The car is making me crazy. Last week, the window got stuck on the rubber that surrounds it and came off the track. "No big deal, I'll just deal with it when I get home", or so I thought. Sure enough, stop at a stoplight, and watch as the glass slowly sinks into the door. I have yet to attempt to fix it.
Then Wednesday of this week: Meeting at work, then trek to Rockland to get the results of my son's evaluation. It pretty much cemented what we knew all along, it's a matter of implementing the information that we have into an action plan that is going to work and help him be better that I'm losing my mind over. ADHD and ODD. Therapy is in place and has been for months. He likes her and is a good fit. I know that the company that she works for has a pretty high turn over rate with employees, I'm praying to every entity in the Universe that she isn't going anywhere.
Dad picks up son and takes him to Orono to the Boy Scout store to get his uniform and all the things he needs for scouts.
I'm on the way home from dad's. All of a sudden there is this God-aweful grinding/banging sound under my car. Pull over and call dad. Police officer stops to see what is going on and make sure I'm ok.
SIDE NOTE: Call me a 90 year old grandmother in a 34 year old's body, but I melt every time someone stops to make sure another person is ok or goes out of their way to help someone else that they don't have to. As someone who is in charge and does everything for herself most of the time, and really doesn't have that much of a support system when things go wrong, you don't know how nice that is, but I do.
Dad shows up, sees that my exhaust came apart from my muffler and was hitting on my drive shaft, so it's a really good thing that I didn't attempt to limp it home. He was able to connect it together and the car sounds better than before.
Go to Bangor first thing Friday morning to get the boy some last minute stuff for camp, including sneakers because he went from a boy's 5 to mens 8 in 2 months. The gas gauge isn't working. Awesome. Car still working fine. I go to work. On the way home, suddenly my engine is really loud like it was before and something dragging. At 9:30 at night I called dad. An hour later he came and strapped it up. This time the exhaust has disconnected from the engine area. The only way to fix it is to weld it. I am screwed, and not in any fun ways.
Last night I laid awake waiting for the meteor to strike.
Of course when things are uneventful the way I like them to be I have almost nothing to write about :)
My son turned 12 last Thursday. He and I had our one on one celebration like we do every year. This year we did Pizza Hut and went to see Jurrassic World. Then on his birthday, I cooked dinner and brought it over to dad's. High five to the fact that I didn't spend the entire day in tears!
Dad signed him up for the Boy Scouts AND signed him up for summer camp for the week. My son might has well have been told he was given all the gummy bears in the world (or maybe I'm the only person on the planet who would be elated about that). He is over the moon excited. This is something that he has wanted to do since he was 6.
4th of July weekend came and went. Spent the evening after work
The camp road is cleared. My sister in law got a friend to help her cut and move them. The kids and I went down Sunday. She and I did some cleanup to the yard. My soul is at peace knowing that I am now able to get to it. Thinking that next week while my son is away my daughter and I will spend a couple of days down there.
The car is making me crazy. Last week, the window got stuck on the rubber that surrounds it and came off the track. "No big deal, I'll just deal with it when I get home", or so I thought. Sure enough, stop at a stoplight, and watch as the glass slowly sinks into the door. I have yet to attempt to fix it.
Then Wednesday of this week: Meeting at work, then trek to Rockland to get the results of my son's evaluation. It pretty much cemented what we knew all along, it's a matter of implementing the information that we have into an action plan that is going to work and help him be better that I'm losing my mind over. ADHD and ODD. Therapy is in place and has been for months. He likes her and is a good fit. I know that the company that she works for has a pretty high turn over rate with employees, I'm praying to every entity in the Universe that she isn't going anywhere.
Dad picks up son and takes him to Orono to the Boy Scout store to get his uniform and all the things he needs for scouts.
I'm on the way home from dad's. All of a sudden there is this God-aweful grinding/banging sound under my car. Pull over and call dad. Police officer stops to see what is going on and make sure I'm ok.
SIDE NOTE: Call me a 90 year old grandmother in a 34 year old's body, but I melt every time someone stops to make sure another person is ok or goes out of their way to help someone else that they don't have to. As someone who is in charge and does everything for herself most of the time, and really doesn't have that much of a support system when things go wrong, you don't know how nice that is, but I do.
Dad shows up, sees that my exhaust came apart from my muffler and was hitting on my drive shaft, so it's a really good thing that I didn't attempt to limp it home. He was able to connect it together and the car sounds better than before.
Go to Bangor first thing Friday morning to get the boy some last minute stuff for camp, including sneakers because he went from a boy's 5 to mens 8 in 2 months. The gas gauge isn't working. Awesome. Car still working fine. I go to work. On the way home, suddenly my engine is really loud like it was before and something dragging. At 9:30 at night I called dad. An hour later he came and strapped it up. This time the exhaust has disconnected from the engine area. The only way to fix it is to weld it. I am screwed, and not in any fun ways.
Last night I laid awake waiting for the meteor to strike.
Saturday, July 4, 2015
Accountability
Through experience, I have found that the phrase "I don't want to argue" is code for "I've said/done, or am about to say/do, something incredibly stupid and you will want to kill me."
I am so tired of being an adult. What is the point?
Is it wrong of me to expect people to be accountable? And I don't mean being on time, life happens. I mean showing up at all. Or at the very least having a really, really valid reason for not picking up the phone.
No, getting trashed the previous day and being too hung over to get out of bed isn't allowed as one of them. You know what you have for plans, act accordingly.
I myself look at time frames as guidelines. There are very few exceptions, such as the time you are supposed to show up for work or the time that a movie starts or other responsibility crap that goes along with well, life. Otherwise, the chips fall where they may.
However, with that said, do not, I repeat DO NOT make plans with someone, especially if it meant that they had to inconveince another person's life (by getting out of work early, for example) to make the plans with you in the first place and then not even pick up the phone if you are going to choose not to follow through with those plans.
It's reverting back to childhood.
Be accountable.
If someone is not adult enough not to move on with their day because you don't want to do what you said that you would after you have the balls to tell them, the result is on them, not you. If you hide, it is ENTIRELY your fault.
Honesty. It's a thing.
I am mad. I told you I'm mad. I'm even more mad that I am that unimportant to you.
You're mad at me for being mad? Grow up.
Maybe it's being a single parent with responsibility coming out of my pores that hopes that other adults understand integrity. Maybe I was just raised to be a good person who goes out of their way to show people that they matter. Because I know how it feels to not matter to someone.
Maybe you were hoping that I would turn into an asshole. I can act like one if it helps you sleep at night, but it's not going to change who I am. You know me better than that. I'll love you anyway, and will take more of your crap if you call me again.
Because you matter.
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