English 111 Journal

The Brady Story Continues

2010-07-26T19:14:00.000-07:00

For the most part, I love my life. I wouldn't trade it for another one, not even for riches or fame. And the things I don't love so much about my life seem so insignificant at times. I just wish it wouldn't play out like a reality show/sitcom sometimes.

Here's the story, of a single mother. She was raising three kiddies on her own. She struggled with ADHD, and couldn't keep a neat home. Here's the story of an Army soldier who was trying to rebuild his life again. He had three kids he had to fight to be with and a job he no longer believed in. Then online the single mother met the soldier and they knew it was much more than a hunch, so they started to remodel a home together and now they are a modern day Brady Bunch.

And now another episode of our story begins. Handsome just got the news that he has six weeks to six months to get his stuff in order before he gets stationed at another base. Since he's about 90% certain he will be deployed from the next base, I won't be going with him. I will stay here in this house, no matter how far we've gotten on the remodeling. Did I mention that I haven't had a kitchen in over a year? He thinks he's leaving in December, which means that he'll miss Christmas. We're under pressure to finish the kitchen with the limited funds and time that we have. We have the kids' school year to prepare for. It's crazy. I'm exhausted just thinking about it.

The plan is this, finish what we can. I stay here with the kids while he checks out the new base, and if he doesn't get deployed from wherever they send him (we still don't know where he's going yet), then I'll join him during summer break. Which begs the question: What will we do with our house while we're gone?

I know a lot of military spouses have gone through this before me, but first of all, I'm not a spouse. I don't have that security. Marriage is still a very touchy issue with us. Second, he's pretty sure he's deploying, which is stressful enough, but we also have a whole crap-load of ex's just waiting to cause problems with custody, a house that's not quite finished, and still no idea of what's around the corner. I'm pretty sure that the military has a good reason for keeping their soldiers unprepared for this stuff, but I couldn't possibly figure it out. In this market, why not let a person know where and when they are moving so they have time to sell their house or make plans with their family if necessary.

I also have the three-year-curse to deal with. We're nearing the three year mark and I can feel the tension. We're both tired of feeling like we're being taken for granted. I know it's just a communication thing, men from Mars, women from Venus, but it's just so hard to forget, even if you can forgive. Handsome thinks he's showing his appreciation by doing a job he hates to provide for me and mine. He wants to see me do a job I hate to prove my appreciation for him. I work on an emotional level, not a physical one to show my appreciation. I want him to do the same. I want empathy and affection from him, he wants a military tight house. And I'm pretty sure neither one of us is capable of giving what the other wants.

So, unstable relationship, unstable house, unstable future. Not even the kids are a constant, with all the custody exchanges going on. Crazy, crazy, crazy. You can't tell me it doesn't have the good makings of a reality show. Move over Kate plus Eight, here comes Modern Day Brady.

Mother's Day

2010-05-10T18:50:00.000-07:00

Mother's Day was a pretty good day for me, considering everything. The day before, Handsome and I took the kids mini-golfing and it was almost fun. The kids all had a "horrible" time. Desi got mad that she wasn't getting the ball in the hole and started hating golf. Then she tripped over her club and skinned up her knee, which kicked up her frenzy level. She started demanding her Oompa Loompa right that instant, which is the exact thing Handsome and I compared her fit to, which brought a smile to our faces. Inside jokes are awesome!

Yeah, yeah, I know. We made fun of our kid. But here's a thing they'll never tell you in a parenting book. Sometimes, you either laugh at them or cry with them. You gotta find the funny side to any situation or they will drive you completely mad.

After that, Handsome took them to the dollar store so they could pick out Mother's Day presents for me. I, blissfully, waited out in the van. I know what it's like to take all of the kids into a store at one time and that was almost present enough that Handsome suffered that for me.

Sunday morning dawned bright and early. At least, earlier than I planned on. Handsome woke me up to ask me if I wanted to sleep in, which makes me chuckle every time he does it. Of course, I decided to stay up. While I was drinking my coffee in bed, Handsome got all the presents and rounded up all the chitlins. It was all very sweet.

It's hard to believe that I spent the rest of the day on my hands and knees scrubbing a floor with a toothbrush. Life never stops for anyone and you have to hold onto the sweet moments as long as you can, but never so long that you avoid the gritty parts that are just as necessary. I cooked, I cleaned, I folded laundry, but my dresser looks like a one-woman dollar store party, and that makes it all worth it.

What My Heart Says

2010-04-28T19:44:00.000-07:00

I've been struggling for the past two years to get my head and my heart to agree on the same thing. Seems that my heart never wants what is good for me, and my head never wants to put myself at risk. I'm caught between what I want and what I need. Why can't they be the same?

These past couple of years have been loaded with ups and downs. I've nearly left Handsome so many times, and even had my bags packed twice. Yet, I am still here. But am I here for the right reasons?

I'm so tired of starting over. I'm tired of risking everything and gaining nothing but a broken heart and broken dreams. I'm also tired of being in relationships that lead nowhere. What is it about me that draws me to men that can't commit, at least to me? Where am I going wrong?

I've been thinking a lot about the train wreck that is my romantic life. Lord, it's one mistake after another. I wouldn't go back and change the guys I've been with, but I'd give anything to change the results of my time with them.

Perhaps it's due to the three-year-curse. I'm coming closer every day to that mark with Handsome. Three years, and what do I have to show for it? Safety? Oh yes. We're so safe we're dying of it, suffocating in our complacency. If I were to leave him tomorrow, it would not even cause a ripple in his life. He could wipe away the residue of me before I could blink my eyes.

I want more. My head says take the blessing that has been given me. My heart says to demand what is rightfully mine. Demand to be something of value to one that I value. Demand to be loved and loved completely.

There's just so much to take into consideration. There's the children for starters. They've invested every bit of their hearts. They hold back nothing. So, do I have the right to be selfish with their hearts on the line? If only I could know for sure whether or not there was something more for me out there. If this is all I can expect, why go through the trouble of risking their hearts to find out? I mean, it's not like I have the best batting average here. The likelyhood of finding Mr. Right after all of this time.....well, I'm not sure there is a Mr. Right. In fact, I'm pretty sure that it's a silly dream that Disney made up to profit off of hopeless romantics like myself. And yet, the heart wants what it wants and no matter how illogical that thing would be, the brain cannot seem to override it. At least, mine can't.

It's all so confusing! I've exhausted myself just thinking of it. Time to tuck myself into bed and dream. Time to silence my heart and my mind and get some rest.

Time Changes All Things?

2010-04-19T09:11:00.000-07:00

My kids have been growning right before my eyes. It doesn't seem that long ago that my twin boys fit between my hand and my elbow. Now I wonder if I only imagined them being that small. Time has certainly changed my babies.

I've been thinking a lot about how time has passed. It has been flowing like a river. When I was younger, it drifted like a gentle stream. I could pick my coarse as I saw fit. I could laze away and let it carry me, with no concern about where I was going.

Now time is like a raging river, deeper, stronger, with no control of where it takes me or how fast. I blink and I'm miles away from where I was. I can't staunch it and don't dare turn my back on it or I'll be swept under. What I wouldn't give for the carefree days of my youth.

It's been two years since I moved in with Handsome. Two years of navigating these waters with him. Time has changed so much around us, and yet, I wonder if it has changed enough. The raft that is our relationship doesn't seem strong enough to endure this trip some days. The biggest problem though is that we're both trying to captain the ship with different destinations in mind. We're fighting against each other instead of with each other and neither of us is willing to give up control.

I thought, perhaps, I was strong enough to let Handsome steer, but I find I do not like the direction he wants to take and there's only so much pride I wish to swallow. If I don't give up control, however, will be both end up too weak to make a difference when the time comes?

I'm no longer certain as to what to do. Do I give up control or kick his butt off my boat? I know I'll need to make a decision soon or we'll both be swept into the ocean before we know it. It's time for change. It's always time for change. I just wish I could make time stop just long enough to figure out the right thing to do. I wish there was enough time left. But there is never enough time, is there? Never enough.

Frustration and Theft

2010-02-20T18:29:00.000-08:00

About six or so months ago, my laptop was stolen from my home. I think it was the most idiotic robbery in history. The culprit stole the powercord from my printer (which he left behind) and left behind the powercord from my laptop (which he stole). Not only that, but he stole the charger for my ipod and left my ipod lying right there on my desk. But the most stupid action belongs to me. In a moment of shear genius, I left ALL the doors unlocked when I left the house. Of course, I wasn't gone for more than fifteen minutes. We live in such a nice neighborhood. I just never thought it would happen to me. I guess that's what all victims think, huh?

I've had to do a lot of improvising since then. I've discovered that I can blog on my Wii and my PS3, though I can only type so many characters per entry on my PS3. Both are truly crappy when it comes to facebook, though the Wii is the better of the two there. Because of the type of platform they are, they do not support a lot of content.

Excitement and Frustration

2010-02-20T18:19:00.000-08:00

I'm blogging from my PS3 today, so I don't know if I'll be able to get this to work right.

So, big news! I found the half brothers of my three kids on facebook. My ex husband had two sons from a previous marriage before I met him. I never got to meet these boys, and neither have my kids. I started searching for them when I left my ex, but their mother wouldn't respond to any of my attempts. I don't know if it's because she never got my letters or if there were other reasons. For all I know, she told her sons that their father was dead, so of course it would be hard to explain to them how they ended up with half-siblings.

Anyway, I recently started up the search again. I knew their first names and their mother's maiden name. Turns out that facebook is a handy little search tool when you're looking for people. There they were in my hometown and just a message away. I wrote "Drew" yesterday and can barely contain my excitement while waiting for a response.

I can't believe he ate the whole thing!

2010-01-28T20:12:00.000-08:00

I am not what you would call a technology guru, but I am using the keyboard that my dog chewed up thanks to my highschool electronics class. Thank you Mr. Franchini, wherever you are.

I don't know the extent of the damage to the keyboard. I don't know if I got all the keys functioning when I fixed it. And it all could have been avoided by buying the wireless keyboard but I didn't feel like spending that much money. That's what I get for trying to be frugal.

Of course, it wouldn't have cost that much to replace the keyboard. It was only $13 at Wal-mart. Then again, I did fix it. I'm so dang proud of myself!

It's kind of funny. I've been focusing so much on all of the stuff that I can't do lately that I've forgotten about all of the stuff I can do, even if it's not all that well. I know how to change a tire. I can frame, mud, and paint with the best of them now (slight exaggeration). I can strip and solder wires. I can sew. I can fold a fitted sheet. In fact, I'm an adorable bundle of talent. Why did I ever forget that?

I guess it's easy to forget these things when you have so many people pointing out your failings and misgivings on a constant basis. Which brings us to the next question: Why in the world did I ever think this relationship was going to be good for me?

Handsome and I are not doing so well. That much is pretty obvious. What's not so obvious is what I'm going to do about it yet. When Handsome is not on my case about absolutely EVERYTHING, he's a pretty swell guy. If we were just friends, I think we'd be great for each other. Romantically speaking, it's just not working out the way I had hoped. Then again, none of my relationships have worked out the way I wanted, so maybe the fault lies with what I want?

Anyway, I know that I need to do more growing before I make a decision about Handsome and I. No sense in going off half-cocked and blowing something that could have been great with a little work. There's also no sense in wasting time on something that never would have worked. So confusing.

I guess I just need to figure out exactly what it is that I need and what I'd be willing to sacrifice to get my needs filled. Maybe I should quit reaching out for a star when I have a candle in front of me to light my way.

It's all so chaotic, my thoughts and my life. I've been caught up in this whirlwind and I haven't been able to focus in on any one thing. There's problems with my kids, and getting back to school, and with Handsome, and with my family, and as always with the house. I can't even tell up from down anymore, and I guess I was hoping that Handsome would be a rooting force in my life, but I think he's hoping for the same from me and I'm not very good at being anyone's rock.

All I know is that it's late and I have to get up early tomorrow. I'm praying so hard that the kids don't get a snow day. Please, please don't let the snow cover the roads! I'm supposed to go somewhere with a friend tomorrow and I don't think it will be possible with four tag-alongs. Not that they're that badly behaved in public. Just that they get bored so easily and this promises to be a pretty mundane task. Please, please no snow.

Oh, funny thought. Do you know how you prayed for snow days as a kid and how it never seemed to snow much at all, and now as an adult, it won't quit snowing? Do you think it's God's sense of humor showing that he answers your prayers for snow that you made as a kid when you've finally got kids of your own and view snowdays as evil? Hmmmm, something to think about.

Anyhoo, I obviously need some sleep. As always, it's pretty random, but now I'm wondering if it even makes sense anymore. Just blame it on all the cold medicine I'm on if you can't make heads or tails of this tonight. I'm just writing because I'm so proud of fixing my keyboard by myself and I wanted to test it out. Works well enough for me!

100 Posts Later....

2010-01-25T21:03:00.000-08:00

It's my 100th posting and my first post of 2010. Seems like only yesterday that I started this blog for me English class. I think this was the greatest assignment I ever received.

I can't believe how much has changed in all this time. Sexy is now married (not to me). I found this out today and I'm proud to say that I didn't desolve into a fit of tears. I wanted to, but I didn't. I guess I knew it was coming, and though I chose not to think about it, I did prepare myself for it in a way. I'm happy to see that he's got his life out of the gutter and that he's truly happy. Of course, I can't stop the feelings of anger and resentment. Guess that's just the nature of the beast.

Handome and I are not doing so well. I read over the first few postings where I mentioned him and I noticed a lot of things have changed there as well. He no longer treats me like a princess. He's not beating me or cheating on me. It's nothing like that. I guess we've just gotten to the point in our relationship where everything is taken for granted and there's no longer any communication. I bear part of the blame for this, I guess. Honestly, I quit trying to talk to the guy. It just seems so pointless.

I seem to be falling victim to the three year curse again. I never seem to make it past the three year mark with any guy, no matter how much I may want to. It's not always for the same exact reason, but there are similarities. It always comes back to trust and commitment. I can't seem to find a guy who will give me either one of those things. Not truly and whole-heartedly.

I think that this time will be different though. Not that I'm holding out much hope of reaching the three year mark. I think I'll be doing the break-up different though. First of all, I don't intend to pick up and move in a blaze of fury this time. I think I'll stay right were I am. I have no intention of starting this mess over again and I have to think about the impact it will have on my kids. They never got to know Sexy, so leaving him was no big deal. They know Handsome all too well, so losing him would be hard on them. Also, I'm attached to his kids, so it would tear them up to lose another mother figure.

Basically, I see no benefit in removing myself from the pan and placing myself in the fire anymore. It's time to do things different. It's time to focus on my needs and the needs of my children. It's time to go back to school, finish my book(s), start a career. It's time to work on my foundation.

Yeah, yeah, I know. We've heard this all before, haven't we? I'm always saying how it will be different and how I'm never doing this again and I go and repeat history. What can I say? I'm a little thick-headed and it takes quite a beating before it sinks in. No, scratch that. The problem is in my heart, not my head. My head has faced reality, but my treachorous heart still believes in "The One". Curse you, Disney!

So now the new year has begun. I'll be turning 30 this year, and I'm nowhere near where I should be on a personal level. I keep thinking on how I have coasted through my life with no plan for being permanently single. I guess I always figured I'd find that special someone to make my life complete. Looking back on all of my relationships though, I'm begining to realize that a man is not the answer. At least, not for me.

My resolution may be a little late in coming this year, but better late than never. My resolution is this: Stop taking myself for granted. Stop wasting all of this time on wishes and hopes and get down to the nitty-gritty of life. Focus on what I do have and not on what I want to have. I have three beautiful children who will always love me, trust me, and be committed to me. I have an endless supply of potential that is not being tapped into. I have a fresh start, begining right this moment. It's time to go forwards, not backwards. And dang it all, it's time to grow up and get with the program.

Men suck (extreme version)

2009-08-08T23:48:00.000-07:00

I'm not perfect. In fact, I've made some very HUGE mistakes, mostly involving men. And to be perfectly honest, 90% of my mistakes are due to the same thing: I want to believe the best in everyone. Some guy says he wants to be nothing more than a friend, I totally believe him, up until I end up in a compromising situation with said friend. Do you realize how many times this has happened? I couldn't even begin to tell you.

Okay, I admit it. I'm totally retarded when it comes to men and I never learn my lesson. I was taught to look beneath the surface of a person to see the diamond in the rough and I took that lesson to heart. The problem, I'm discovering, is that men don't have a below the surface. I keep puting my faith into something that doesn't exist and, at best, I end up with egg on my face and looking more than a little naive.

It's a good thing Handsome knows this about me, or the latest situation could be more trouble than it already is.

Okay, here's the deal. Handsome and I have been remodeling this house for over a year now. The latest project has been the yard. It's required major work that is more physical than I'm capable of and so Hansome has hired a contractor. Mr. Contractor is a neighbor. A married neighbor, and has become pretty good friends with Handsome along the way. This is a good thing. There's nothing better for a couple than to be able to hang with another couple who is facing the same trials that coupledom brings. Handsome gets a dude he can build and drink beer with. I get to vent about men to another woman. It's all good.

Anyway, Handsome and I just got new phones with unlimited texting. Mr. Contractor loves to text. He sends Handsome a multimedia text that Handsome's phone won't open, so we direct Mr. Contractor to send it to my phone which will open them. Mr. Contractor starts texting me, now that he has my number. Everything starts out really innocent. Then I discover that I can edit the photos I take with my phone and add funny things to the picture. I take one of Handsome and jazz it up, then send it to Mr. Contractor because it is so freakin' funny. Mr. Contractor sends me a text back saying he wants a photo of me. A really "good" photo.

Do you see where this is going? I didn't. Yep, I'm so retarded.

Anyway, a couple of texts later, I start to get the picture. I tell Handsome. I'm still not sure it's suspicious, but I don't want any doubts in Handsome's mind. I'm not trying to lead this guy on. Handsome has less faith in Mr. Contractor than I do. So Handsome suggests I send him an innocent photo, like the one on this blog. I send it. Then Handsome wants me to send him another photo that's not as innocent. We find one that is more suggestive. Not rated R or X by any means, but not something you send a "friend".

Anyway, by the time it was all said and done, there wasn't much left to guess at. Unless Mr. Contractor shows up tomorrow to tell Handsome that I'm sending suggestive photos, Handsome is ready to fire him. And do I feel stupid. I really spent the whole time trying to convince myself that there was a misunderstanding. On the other hand, I start to rethink every conversation and gesture that Mr. Contractor has made towards me and it's not looking very good. You see, I need these things pointed out to me before it starts to sink in. There's been odd looks. Nothing vulgar, but just a bit beyond friendly. There's been touches. Nothing dirty, but you just don't touch your friend's woman........at all.....ever. And then there was the time we all went to a lake to bbq. There's a rope swing there and I jumped in, clothes and all. It was a bit windy and a bit chilly and I was shivering my bum off. Mr. Contractor takes the shirt off his back to give to me. I think nothing of it because Mrs. Contractor gives me a pair of her pajama pants. Just friendly gestures, ya know? But there was a look on his face that I didn't understand at the time. Hind sight being 20/20, it all looks different now.

So, I've either now caught Handsome's paranoia about the world or I'm finally seeing the light. I'm not sure which is worse. I just really hope he shows up tomorrow to tattle on me. Otherwise, Mr. Contractor really was betraying his wife and his friend for a stupid little picture and I can't bear to see Hansome hurt over that kind of betrayal. We also lose our contractor and there's this insurance nazi that has been raking us over the coals and will use this as a reason to not pay. I'm just sure of it. Ughhh! So, seriously, how do I face this dude again? 'Cuz he either wants me and is willing to be sneaky about it or he thinks I'm a tramp and now has a PG-13 photo of me imprinted in his brain. Either way, it's just creepy. And how could I be so dumb as to not see this coming if he is a sleaze?

Okay, my brain is hurting from all this twisted logic now. I need sleep. Men suck.

Gratitude (Poem)

2009-08-02T23:09:00.000-07:00

Gratitude

It never would have worked out.
It’s all for the best.
You just want to get out,
so give those lines a rest.
You really want what’s right for me.
You cannot give me what I need.
Baby, do you think I’m naïve,
or that I’m just that blind?

Okay, so I’m not gracious,
but who can really blame me?
You really think I’ll thank you
for all the lies you told me?
I’m just a little angry
now that I can see the truth.
Twist the knife a little deeper;
I’ll try to show some gratitude.

It wasn’t that you played me.
Sure, you really care.
We both know you betrayed me,
but I’m not being fair?
You really want to do the right thing,
give me the chance to find something.
Honey, I just do not believe
you hurt me to be kind.

Okay, so I’m not gracious,
but who can really blame me?
You really think I’ll thank you
for all the lies you told me?
I’m just a little angry
now that I can see the truth.
Twist the knife a little deeper;
I’ll try to show some gratitude.
Forgive me my sarcasm
and try not to feel guilty.
I don’t want you to feel that
you owe my heart anything.
I’m just a little angry
now that I can see the truth.
Twist the knife a little deeper;
I’ll try to show some gratitude.

Broken Hearts in the Corn Patch

2009-07-01T08:46:00.000-07:00

I overheard something I wasn't meant to hear today. I was in the bathroom, just coming out of the shower. Handsome was right outside the bathroom window, unaware that I was in hearing distance. He was talking to one of the guys working on our house.

He told this guy to never get married, that marriage was the worst of mistakes. And even though I've heard him say this a million times before, it really tore me open this time. And it's not that I was picturing the long walk with Handsome, but it really hurt that he would say such a thing to another guy while I'm inside, being the wife to him in all but name.

He came inside shortly after this and asked me to make him a sandwich. He likes me to fetch things for him. I think it gives him a strange sense of power and a warm fuzzy feeling to see me tend to him. I usually don't mind. It gives me a warm fuzzy feeling to tend to him too. And yes, also that strange sense of power.

I made him the sandwich he asked for, but I didn't go all out. When he asked for a few more things to put on it, I brought those things to him and let him finish making it. It was then that he noticed something was wrong.

I tried to explain to him, but it's hard to explain things to him. Men, Mars, etc. He thinks I'm upset about the guy talk. Personally, if I had come out of the shower to hear him talk about cleavage, I think I would have snickered. Boys will be boys, after all.

The fact is, he was warning this guy that no woman is worth the risk. That's what gets me. And here I am, being the quintessential "little woman" to his caveman, and all these workers see me fetching for him and it makes me feel pathetic.

I'm not sure what to do about this. I never really expected to marry Handsome, even though the subject does come up from time to time. I guess what I expected was that marriage or no, there would be a time that he would come to the realization that I was worth the effort of a full commitment, and no matter how many times I discover that this will never be, I still die a little each time that I come face to face with it. You see, it's not about marriage. It's about trust. And without trust, how can someone ever be trustworthy. I haven't always done my best by Handsome, but why should I ever try when I know that it doesn't matter in the end?

Anyway, I have to get back to the grindstone. Though why, I'm not sure.

So Much More (Poem)

2009-06-29T23:59:00.000-07:00

So Much More

Just when my faith was gone,
my hope had flown,
you came along.

You swept me off my feet,
gave me something new
in which to believe.

Is it fair to say
I lived one day
before you?
I don’t see
how it could be,
my love.
What is life
if you’ve nothing left
to live for?
You’ve made it so much more.

Just when my faith was gone,
my hope had died,
you came along.

You swept me off my feet,
gave me all your love
and sweet air to breathe.

Is it fair to say
I lived one day
before you?
I don’t see
how it could be,
my love.
What is life
without something
to live for?
You’ve made it so much more.
Gave me purpose, a need,
and a dream to believe.
You’ve made it so much more.

Through My Fingers (Poem)

2009-06-29T23:25:00.000-07:00

Through My Fingers

I tried
to exist in the moment,
to live life like I owned it,
to love like no tomorrow.
I failed
to see the price that you paid,
the sacrifices that you made,
to recognize your sorrow.

It’s not that it meant so little to me.
I meant to make it up to you one day.
How could I know the day would never come,
that the future I promised would be taken away?

You can’t say I didn’t try,
but it all slipped through my fingers again.
I watched as time flew by.
It flowed like tiny grains of sand
through my fingers again.

I really thought I did my best by you,
that I gave you what you needed from me then.
Those precious moments lost, I promised would come due.
How could I know it would all come to an end?

You can’t say I didn’t try,
but it all slipped through my fingers again.
I was lost while time flew by.
It flowed like tiny grains of sand.
You can’t say I didn’t care,
but it all slipped through my fingers again.
While I was unaware,
time poured like the river of the damned
through my fingers again.

Beautiful Disaster

2009-06-24T20:12:00.000-07:00

I'm not beautiful when I cry. My tears aren't achingly lovely. They're sticky and sloppy. My face gets swollen. In fact, I tend to look like I've went ten rounds with Tyson once I dry up.

It's simply not fair how some women can pull off a good cry and still look so lovely. I want to be able to cry pretty. I want those silent tear drops that roll gently down my cheeks. I want those soft, heart wrenching sobs that pull a strong man to his knees. My sobs sound more like a banshee trying to break loose. It's sad, really. And then I get those little hiccough type breaths, like I'm hyperventilating.

I guess it's a good thing that I don't have reason to practice too often. But lately, things have been complicated. I'm a constant victim of Murphy's Law, destined to get caught in the currents of chaos. It's been worse the past couple of weeks. It's not an emotional roller coaster I'm riding. It's more like a plane crash.

Speaking of crashes, I wrecked Handsome's truck a couple of days ago. A retaining wall attacked it while I was just sitting there, minding my own business. It wasn't serious. That is to say, I wasn't injured or anything. Just a major scratch down the side. Handsome went postal though. I really thought that this would be the end of us.

It's too complicated to explain without sounding stupid by defending him or sounding like I'm bashing him. He overreacted. I overreacted. His truck got hurt. My feelings got hurt. He cooled down. But now, I can't seem to warm up completely. I'm getting that feeling of one foot out the door again. I hate that feeling when you're waiting for the other shoe to drop and you can't stop being on guard. But, I can't just leave. There's too much at stake.

I know I'm not perfect. I know that Handsome is a good man. We're both under a lot of stress because of this remodeling project we have going. All the work we got finished has gone to Hell in a hand basket and the work we need done isn't getting done for reasons beyond our control. It's.....complicated.

Then, there's the fact that I just got to meet his family and I adore them. They made me feel so welcome and so accepted. And now, Handsome is talking the "M" word again and I know it's because he really wants to try forever with me. And here I am, baulking at it all. I'm so confused. I'm spinning like a top, trying to find something solid to hold on to, but every time I reach out, I only find more chaos.

So, what is the answer? Am I just making excuses, or are they valid reasons for having my back up and my eyes open? Am I being jaded, or wise? Have I finally turned into the thing I most dreaded becoming, a woman so scorned that I miss all the joys that comes with all this pain? Because I dimly recall there being a balance to it all.

Perhaps, in time, I'll get my answers. But for now, the bed beckons me. I know that tomorrow, I will have forgotten my questions. I'll be thick in the chaos again. Life stops for no one, so you either live it or watch it pass you by. But, maybe, I will get a chance to stop and rest for a moment. Maybe the top will lay to rest for a brief moment in time before someone sets it to spinning again. It's not too much to ask, is it?

Home

2009-06-08T13:41:00.000-07:00

I dusted off my keyboard today. My need to write beckoned me like an old lover. Once, I thrived in the arms of my lover. It was a place I found myself. Now, the tap of the keys is awkward, almost alien.

I know that with each touch of the keys, I will become more familiar with that lover again. Old feelings and new will wash over me. Life will unfold and eventually, it will feel like coming home again.

Coming home. I've been acquainted with that feeling a lot lately. Only, it feels so different every time I do. I visited my folks this last weekend. Coming home to them means feeling warm and welcome, free to relax and enjoy myself. They push and they prod. They love and tend to me. They give of themselves and ask if I need more.

I visited my best friend too. Coming home to her means no judgement. I tell her everything, even the things I have trouble telling myself. She will never be ashamed of me. She will lend an ear, an arm, a shoulder whenever I ask it. She knows without doubt that she has the same of me.

I visited the ghost that haunts my past as well. Oh, Lord! I don't know how to explain this one. Comfort and turmoil, longing and fulfillment. Time does not heal all wounds, only changes the nature of the pain. I am not me when I'm with him. I am not me without him. I can't move forward and I can't go back. I told myself I was there to burn bridges, but the truth of it is, bridge or no bridge, I will find my way back to him again and again.

After the weekend was done, I came home to Handsome. I was so hopeful, so devastated. I want things to work between us, and I don't. This past year with him has been so strange. He is my friend and my confidant, but there's something missing and I can't quite place my finger on it. I know it has nothing to do with my past. The past has no place in the future other than as a lesson to live by. No, it's more complicated than that. There's this space between us that can't be breached, not by word or deed. And I'm so lost right now.

Truth be told, if I could figure out what was wrong with us, I wouldn't look back at the past with such longing. But the space is there and growing wider each day. We don't touch any more. We don't connect on that primitive level. I know that he tries so hard to. I want to. I try. But I feel so disconnected from him. He feels it too. It's the elephant in the room that we'll never discuss.

I look at my screen now, at that damn blinking cursor, and I look around the place I now call home. They both still feel the same to me, familiar and awkward all at the same time. And I wonder, will I ever feel whole again?

Jog Journal

2008-09-25T19:20:00.000-07:00

September 22, 2008

Jog # 6 & 7: It was on Monday the Fifteenth that I made jog number six. I pushed myself to 18 minutes, and I mean pushed. I wanted to give up at the usual 15. Hell, I wanted to give up at ten. But I wanted in my skinny pants more. I was just starting to notice a reduction in the baggage around my hips. Pain and suffering wasn’t going to stop me! Ha ha ha!

The next day I got the 24 hour flu. Definitely more effective than jogging. More painful too. But hey, by Wednesday, I was back in my skinny pants. No kidding!

I still have a few more pounds to drop before I’m my old, svelte self again. Not to mention, I’m still determined to prove that I can do this morning run thing. I’m not sure why, but I need for Handsome to know I’m being serious about this. Maybe because he’s the only person who has faith that I can do it? I’m not sure.

That is why this morning’s run was so disappointing. Ten minutes. That’s it. I started getting a stitch in my side at around seven minutes and called it quits at ten. The least I could have done was 15 minutes. I really would have liked to have done 20.

I know many people would say that the important part was getting out there. Many would say that ten minutes is better than nothing, and nothing is what I have been doing the last week. But I’m pissed! I know I can do better! Of course, there was the stitch in my side. If not for that, I would have pushed until a minimum of 15 minutes. I want my sexy back! And I’m pretty sure I know why I got a stitch in my side, so I should be able to avoid it in the future. I just wish I would have made five more minutes. Just five.

Jog Journal

2008-09-25T19:15:00.000-07:00

September 11, 2008

Jog # 5: I jogged for another 15 minutes this morning. I know I should have tried to push it to 20, but I wanted to make sure that I had plenty of time to get back to the house to prepare to get the girls ready for school. Not to mention, it started to sprinkle the last couple minutes of my run.

Anyhoo, I’m feeling slightly bruised right now. I’m pretty sore from doing all this physical labor around the house (hauling bathrooms up and down stairs, unloading the demolition waste at the dump by myself, climbing up and down the stairs to do laundry, etc.). The running eased the stiffness for a while, but only added to it later. However, I have noticed that my shoulder has finally eased a little.

I’m not sure if I’m going to run tomorrow. I know I should, but I am still pretty stiff. I do know that, run or not, I need to find a new route to run. The same ol’ laps are getting boring and I need to add a few smaller hills to it (much as I hate to). Right now it’s pretty level.

Then again, maybe I shouldn’t change it. Handsome said that after I work myself up to 30 minutes, we’d start working on speed. According to the Army, a woman in my age bracket should be able to run 2 miles in 18 minutes or under. Seriously, 2 miles gets so much longer the faster you take it.

Anyway, time to quite complaining and try to work out my aching muscles in the shower. I need heat! And hey, soap wouldn’t hurt either, lol!

Jog Journal

2008-09-25T19:11:00.001-07:00

September 10, 2008

Jog # 4: It’s been about a week since my last jog, give or take a few days. I didn’t think I’d do so well. I surprised myself. I made it 15 minutes this morning. Whoooo hooooo!

It’s really quite amazing. I started the morning with my lungs aching from smoking. I thought for sure I’d die about 5 minutes into it. But once I got moving, it wasn’t so bad. After I made my 15, I knew I could keep going if I wanted. I just decided to stop at 15. I wanted to make sure I got cooled down and rested before the kiddies got up and moving for the morning.

Handsome was quite impressed with me. For only being my forth jog, with weeks in between, I’m really making good progress. It also helped that I got up and moving on my own, not to mention greeting him at the door with a smile when he came home from his PT.

Benefits so far: I no longer feel like I’ve been hit by a 18-wheeler after each run. Now, it’s more like a small car. I’m not breathing quite so heavy afterward either. My recovery time is less. The first time I ran, I made about 5 minutes with breaks and it took about two hours to recover. This time only took about 15 minutes.

Goals are about the same: to increase my energy level, to decrease the size of my hips, etc. I’ve also made another smaller goal today. I’m planning on starting a more physical workout in the evenings. Maybe I’ll drag my Total Gym out of the dungeon and dust it off. Who knows? At this rate, I might be able to out-run Handsome in another month or two. Wouldn’t that be hilarious?

Jog Journal

2008-09-25T19:11:00.000-07:00

Unspoken III (Poem)

2008-09-25T19:06:00.000-07:00

Unspoken III

Don’t know why I called you.
I know it’s all so wrong, but I
can’t help it. I just did.

We laughed and talked about
a past that seems so long, but there
was so much left unsaid.

A carefully orchestrated mess.
We danced around all the pain and ugliness
though we both recalled it.

Both of us had some truth to say,
but we both spent the time just too damn afraid
and there was so much left unsaid.

Don’t know why I called you.
I know it’s all so wrong, but I
can’t help it. I just did.

I know the past is somewhere
we just don’t belong, and there
was too much left unsaid.

A carefully orchestrated mess.
We danced around all the pain and loneliness
though we can’t forget it.

Both of us had some truth to say,
but we both let our foolish pride get in the way
and still there’s so much left unsaid.
There is so much left unsaid.

Jog Journal

2008-09-25T19:04:00.000-07:00

Jog # 3: I ran for over 10 minutes straight this morning without stopping. Well, ran is too fast of a term. I plodded along at a healthy pace. Hmmmm,……better. Anyway, I didn’t start this at the first jog, which is just as well since the first one was hardly a jog at all. I made it one block before tripping on my shoe string and falling. After that, it was downhill from there, or all uphill rather, both ways, in the snow…..barefoot. Okay, okay, not that bad! It was uphill both ways though. That truly is possible, but only in Missouri.

So, first run sucked. I was huffing and blowing like an eighty year old asthmatic trying to blow out candles on a birthday cake. Second run was a little better, but not much. Then, I waited about a week before taking run number three, which is where this journal begins. I know I shouldn’t have waited so long to run again, but I couldn’t help myself. This running thing is no picnic and the first two attempts left me stiff as a corpse. I haven’t seemed to suffer unduly as a result of waiting so long either, so I can’t say that I regret it too much.

So, benefits that I have gained so far: even though my chest has felt like it was in a vise for hours after each jog, I can’t say it’s a bad thing because I haven’t smoked as much as a result. I can’t even think about smoking for 4 to 5 hours after a jog. I simply don’t have the strength to pull a drag. Other than that, I haven’t seen any benefits yet.

My goals for this thing goes as follows: 1). To increase my energy levels. 2). To lose the 15 extra pounds I have gained in the last 4 months. 3). To be able to keep up with my kids. Pretty simple, right?

Previously Known As.....

2008-09-25T19:01:00.000-07:00

Have you ever been put in a situation where you had to step out of the role that you previously filled to step into a role you never thought you’d be in? It seems like I’ve been doing just that for the past 6 years. First, I stepped out of the role of irresponsible party girl to become Suzie Homemaker. Then I left Suzie Homemaker for Divorced, Single Mom. After that, I changed back into Suzie Homemaker with a little added twist. Now, I’m Commando Mom (complete with power tools)! I can juggle six kids, remodel bathrooms, and even fold a fitted sheet!

Seriously, being with Handsome (previously known as Ssg.) has to be the strangest relationship I’ve ever been in, simply based on the changes in myself. I really am a girly-girl at heart. I like to paint my nails, scream and cry like a baby when a spider comes near, hate touching anything moldy, rotten, spoiled or decaying. I don’t run for exercise. I’m terrible at staying organized. I’m the last person in the world I thought would be capable of doing what I’ve been doing.

I kid you not. I have been taking care of six kids (ages 4-8) for a couple of months. Handsome has three kids from previous relationships, I have three kids from a previous relationship. Together, we’re a modern day Brady Bunch. And while he doesn’t have full custody of two of his kids, we have had them for part of Summer break, and I’m missing a few brain cells. They’ve been burned out by stress.

As far as the bathroom goes, I have been hauling toilets out of the house, loading them in Handsome’s truck, unloading the truck at the dump (by myself). I’ve been helping install shower stalls (one piece, for those who understand how truly heavy that is and how badly the fiberglass on the outside of the stall makes you itch). I had to help take the new dang shower down the stairs, and the fun part is that the last step is now missing due to neglect.

I’ve been keeping track of all of Handsome’s Army gear, because I finally met someone less organized than I am. I’ve been keeping track of all the kids activities, all of their belongings, all of their medical appointments and everything else that a Mom does and gets no credit for. It blows my mind too, because I am so incapable of being organized. I’m what I like to call a functional dysfunctional individual. I have my quirks, but I have learned to work with them instead of against them. This does not extend beyond my own functionality, however. I’ve discovered that no one else in this house can work with my chaotic system. So, big changes. I had to get organized (to a point). The hardest part is that I’ve had to stay that way. This is where I struggle. It goes so far against my natural programming.

And speaking of natural programming, it also goes against my nature to do any physical activity that I’m not absolutely required to do. My idea of sports is fishing and horseback riding, and I don’t mean bucking broncos, I mean a gentle little mare who couldn’t make it beyond a light trot unless a wolf was nipping at her heals. Any sport you can sit through is a good sport.

Now, however, I’ve taken up jogging. It’s crazy! I haven’t run more than a few seconds since grade school. Make no mistake, it wasn’t a strong desire to that got me started. What happened, as Handsome would say, is that I reached that magical age where my hips explode and apply for their own zip code. It hasn’t gotten out of hand yet, but I am unable to fit into most of my jeans.

So, recap: I’m touching fiberglass and moldy gypsum barehanded to remodel a bathroom, I’m getting up earlier than necessary to go jogging down the street, I’m organizing a household that has a natural tendency to be a disaster, and I haven’t painted my nails in about 8 months. I’ve had to get tough, and I hate being tough. I want to be a sissy. I don’t think Commando Mom gets to be a sissy, however. And despite it being totally against my grain, I find that I really do enjoy the new role. I’m proud of the changes I made for my family. I just wish I could have a day, now and again, where I can give myself a pedicure or go fishing. Is that too much to ask?

2008-08-31T17:01:00.001-07:00

The more things change, the more things stay the same. I can't tell you how often I have heard these words from my parents, but I didn't understand the meaning until now.

My chaotic life has carried me forward. I have been living with Ssg. for several months now. It feels like forever. I can't tell you how different this relationship is from all the ones I've been in before. This man is my perfect half. We work so well together in almost every aspect of our relationship. He makes me laugh, he lifts my spirits when I am down, he motivates me, he challenges me. So short of a time together and he knows me better than any other man has known me.

So why do I keep thinking about Sexy? It's been forever since I have communicated with him. I have spent this whole time with a man who loves and appreciates me. I have the man that every woman claims to desire. Strong, sensitive, passionate, caring, a loving father, a hard worker, a provider, a romantic. He admits when he's wrong. He treats me like a princess. What the heck is wrong with me!?

I want to know. Honestly, I do. I need to know why I can still smell Sexy's cologne, feel his hair through my fingers (his hair was sooooo soft!), why can I still feel him, taste him, hear him?

Okay, I admit, Sexy is the better lover of the two. Surely that is such a petty reason to still be missing him so much. Surely, I'm beyond that. I mean, Ssg. isn't bad. He's attentive, passionate, and he wants so badly to please me. We have a wonderful love life. Ssg. is definately in my top two.

I guess I just want to know why I'm even entertaining thoughts of Sexy. Sexy is a good man, but he wasn't good for me. Ssg. is good for me in every way. I really can't explain it better than to say he is the other half of me. If I was a dude, I'd be him. And nothing in this world could make me want to hurt him. I don't want to lose what I have with him. I have no reason to be thinking of some other guy. But I can't seem to stop myself. Sexy had such an impact on me, and I don't know how to shake him.

Longing For You (Poem)

2008-06-03T22:53:00.000-07:00

Longing For You

He makes me laugh;
something I forgot to do
all the days I spent with you.
Too busy crying.
I fought so hard
just to be there by your side.
Now, I hardly even try.
More satisfying
when the one you’re with
gives back part of himself.
So, I can’t understand
why I find myself…..

Longing for you.
Admit, it’s true,
and I don’t want
this thing to be.
But, I still find
you on my mind.
No, he can’t kill
your memory.
He wants more
that you ever did.
I feel like such a fool
longing for you.

He makes me smile,
says the things you never could,
gives the love you never would.
He adores me.
I just can’t stand
how I lie awake at night.
I know that it isn't right
to feel this need.
And I hate how much
I still want your caress.
He gives me all I ask for
but I still find myself….

Longing for you.
Admit, it’s true,
and I don’t want
this thing to be.
But, I still find
you on my mind.
No, he can’t kill
your memory.
He wants me more
than you ever did.
I feel like such a fool
longing for you.

Hellooooooooo out there!

2008-06-03T22:04:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I last blogged and I wonder if I even remember how. I can't imagine it's anything like riding a bike. More like falling off one really. I spew out words over and over and they crash onto my screen like a bucket of paint thrown onto a canvas. I wonder if anyone will make sense out of my chaos this evening.

I've been a busy girl lately. I'm still seeing the Sargent. Things are going quite well, actually. I should be moving in with him sometime in the next month. Talk about change. I swore once that I'd be happy to get married again as long as I never had to live with the guy. Now I'm moving in with Ssg. and we're not even married.

Of course, the "M" word has come up in conversation a time or two, and just as quickly, the subject gets changed. It's mutual. That's why I love the guy. He agrees with me on just about everything. Well, that and he treats me like a princess.

To say that I'm happy wouldn't be the complete truth. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what I'm feeling. Yes, there's a sense of completeness that I feel about the latest decision to try the picket fence thing again. There's also a sense of loss that I can't quite explain. Or maybe I can explain it but don't wish to, not even to myself. Everything is still so sensitive, so delicate. I'm walking this fine line and I feel as though I will fall if I stop to examine things too closely. I know it has a lot to do with Sexy. It always has to do with him.

I've run into him a time or two since things ended with him. He knows I'm seeing Ssg. and he knows I'm moving to the Ft. Leonardwood area. He doesn't have much to say about it all; only questions if I'm doing the right thing. For that matter, so do I. But then, I think about how Ssg. goes to church with me, how he played his guitar for me while I took a bath, how he now has a stitches count of 13 because he's been burning the candle at both ends trying to remodel this house for us. Everything he does is about building a relationship with me.

Anyway, perhaps I'm just a little gun shy about relationships. It could even be that I'm not used to someone putting in that much effort when it comes to me. Sexy is a good man, but he's a terrible boyfriend. Ssg. is both a good man and an excellent boyfriend. It's taking some getting used to.

Well, the latest storm is winding down, and so am I. I should be getting some sleep. I have the chitlins tonight and they will be up early in the morning. I just wanted to let everyone know that I'm still alive and doing fine. Next time, I'll tell y'all about the fine abode that Ssg. is building for me. It's a dump now, but it has some amazing potential. I just thank God that I'm dating a man who knows what the heck he's doing. I just pray that I know what I'm doing too.

Sexy, The Sargent, & The Sinner

2008-02-24T20:45:00.000-08:00

It has been a while since my last confession. I have been guilty of wrapping my life around me like chains so that I might have the excuse of that prison for not taking the steps I need to move forward. It's such a simple thing to do. It's so easy to do. All I have to do is look at where I need to go and say to myself, "I cannot be there because I am here."

My newest love has shown me the light of this, though I doubt it was by knowledge or intent. He simply knows that he wishes to be with me and I keep putting up these hurdles. "Not enough time," I say, or, "I can't just change things like that!" In some ways, this is correct. We have only been dating for a couple of months and he is talking a common bedroom and golden bands. But honestly, the thing I think that is truly holding me back is not the circumstances of my divorce which prevent me from moving quickly, or the fact that I have not been dating the Sgt. for very long. The thing that I think most impedes my way can be summed up in one word....... Sexy.

It should come as no surprise that Sexy has called to me since I started dating the Sgt. It should also come as no surprise that I answered his call. I went to him knowing the danger of immorality that I was subjecting myself to. I went to him knowing the suffering that I could cause. The Sgt. is a good man, though a bit hurried. His only sin so far lies in his tendency to be possessive. He admitted to erasing Sexy's number from my phone. He admits to jealousy when I talk to another man. Still, this does not give me good cause to run to the arms of another. And while I fought the temptation to do more than just hold Sexy, the temptation was there.

I don't know why it is so hard for me to let go of this man. I don't know what it is about him that touches me so deeply where none other than the Lord and my family dwell. And I can't even begin to explain how much I mourn the fact that the good Sgt. does not infect me with the same bittersweet passion that I experienced with Sexy.

Perhaps this is a punishment for my life of sin, to know the existence of a passion for which I once dreamed, but to live the rest of my life without it. Not to say that the Sgt. doesn't do quite well for himself. It just doesn't touch me the same way. With Sexy, one touch would erase the world beyond the two of us. I didn't think of anything but the feel of him, the taste of him. With Sexy, it felt as if our souls merged along with our bodies. For the first time in my life, it wasn't just sex.

I know that despite my desire to be with none other than Sexy, I cannot continue fighting for someone who has no desire to fight with me. He'll let me go. There is no doubt. He'll stand by while I accept the proposal of another and become another man's wife. It is something I know deep within my soul. I will never be worth the risk to him.

I also know that I have a true chance at happiness with the Sgt. He has shown that he's willing to go the distance for the chance to be with me. Most recently, he has taken a vow of celibacy with me until such time that we might be married. Granted, we are not formally engaged at this point, but the talk of marriage has been enough that it is almost a given.

We go to church together, something I have not done since early childhood but sincerely wished to start doing. He takes me out in public. I know this seems like such a trivial thing, but I am so accustomed to men who seem more ashamed to be with me than not. But most importantly, he has adopted my children as his own. He not the least bit resistant to stepping in and helping fill their needs. He does this without request or demand by me. He simply sees a thing that needs to be done and does it. If this means washing a sink full of dishes, he does it. If this means giving the kiddies a bath, he does it. In fact, he has done more for my kids in the last two months than their biological father has done for them in the last two years.

I am torn. My battered soul calls out for the soothing balm of the Sgt. whilst my heart longs for the fire of Sexy. Both men are good men. There is no doubt. Both men deserve the riches of the world and I have doubt that I am deserving of either one. Each man holds a piece to the puzzle of my life. I know I must claim one and cast the other away, and I am certain as to which one I will claim. I just wish that it did not hurt me so.

Family Cookbook

2008-01-11T12:08:00.000-08:00

I found this wonderful site where you can enter the ingredients of a particular dish you make and it will give you all the nutritional facts about that dish. It's really neat. I'm planning on using this to make a cookbook up for each member of the family containing the favorite family dishes we prepare on the holidays. I'm really excited about this. I'm also planning on adding photos and maybe some family info regarding a particular dish, like how it started or just a funny story associated with it.

The planning of this little project of mine has been a blast. With each dish I add, I discover numerous memories once forgotten. I've also discovered new dishes that I think will be excellent additions to our feasting traditions. I can imagine the kin folk thumbing through the pages now. They'll laugh to themselves when they cross a particular recipe that strikes a chord. They'll pass this cookbook on to their own children, telling them about the times those meals were prepared that made them so special.

For as long as I can remember, my family has been centered around the kitchen table. It's not only a place where we filled our bellies, it was also a place where we filled our souls. We'd conversate, play games, do homework, or work on a project at that table. It was the hub of our existance. Well, still is actually. And I'm excited to be adding something to it. I'm also excited to know that my kids will get the opportunity to experience many of the same moments I did. As they pour over a favorite dish, they will be taking a little piece of the past along with them into the future.

Isn't that so cool!?

Where's The Catch?

2008-01-10T04:45:00.000-08:00

I've decided to ignore the phone thing. I mentioned something to the new guy and he denied responsibility and I really can't prove anything. Not to mention, my phone is acting a little weird. It just seems a strange.

Basically, I've decided to put him on probation. Overall, he's been wonderful, if a bit hurried. This is the one thing negative I've seen so far, and I'm not even 100% certain he's behind it. I just wish I knew for certain. It would definitely make things easier to understand.

I don't know, maybe I'm just jumping at shadows here. I'm so used to drama from the men I date that it freaks me out when a guy seems to be legit. And that's really what has me spooked here. Other than the hurry he seems to be in, it's a great relationship for me. He does those little things that blow my mind, he's great with my kids, he seems to be tolerant of my imperfections. He seems like the perfect guy. And I don't want to be cynical and jaded and miss out on something because of it, but I can't help but ask, "Where's the catch?"

Curiouser, and curiouser, as Alice likes to put it.

2008-01-08T20:49:00.000-08:00

I've been spiraling down a rabbit hole of late. I've found myself topsy-turvy in a land where not much makes sense. But, for the first time in the past couple of weeks, I have started seeing the devil behind the halo.

I've had this issue with my cell phone lately. For some reason, it doesn't seem to want to hold a charge, even with a full battery. That in itself is not strange. The fact that the new fella wants to buy me a new phone isn't even that odd. At least, not until I went through my address book on the old phone.

You see, if I keep give it a full charge and keep it on the charger, I can access the stuff on my phone for a few minutes. When I did that just recently, I noticed that I was missing a couple of entries in the address book. Two for certain. The thing is, they had the same name. It's the name of my ex. Sexy, and someone else with his name, have been deleted from the address book, and I'm not responsible.

I suppose it's my suspicious nature, but I can't help but wonder if the new guy deleted them and has offered to buy me a phone and put it on his account so that he can keep track of the people I call. On one hand, I can't blame the guy after he told me what his ex put him through when he was serving in Iraq. On the other hand, I did not give him permission to do this. In fact, he didn't ask permission or even mention the desire to do this. So, if he did indeed take this action, I find it very upsetting. I haven't even talked to Sexy in like a month. Not since the last time I saw him. Well, except for one text message where he asked me if I was having fun and I reassured him that I was.

So, now I find myself questioning everything about the new guy. What is he after and what is he willing to do to get it? How many lines will he cross and is trust going to always be an issue between us? Will I just end up paying for the sins of the women before me again?

I suppose I'll just have to ask him and find out, but I'm not feeling very comfortable right now. I don't like this. Even the fact that this could be the case doesn't sit well with me. So, tell me, am I wrong to be concerned?

Oxygen! Sweet Oxygen!

2008-01-08T06:53:00.000-08:00

Do you know what happens when you jump into the deep end? You have to hold your breath longer, that's what.

Okay, almost two weeks and counting. One night apart. Endless hours spent together. I don't know what has happened to me. I must be out of my ever-lovin' mind. It's just that the numbers keep adding up: the number of ways he drives me wild, the number of moments that take my breath away, the number of times I've smiled or laughed, the number of times he's touched me like a man in love, the number of times he's proven himself a man of good character. Wow!

If only it were that easy. I just can't seem to let go of the past and leap into the future like he does. I keep waiting for the bad that always seems to balance the good. And, Lord, is there a lot of good to balance.

I guess I'm just not accustomed to men who move this quickly. The guys I have dated before approach a commited relationship like the plague. It allows me time to grow accustomed to it too. But not this guy. Maybe it's the military training, but he's got this seek-and-destroy attitude. Seek and destroy all resistance, all doubt, all fear. I do have this to say for the guy, he's good at what he does. If how he approaches me is any indication of how he approaches his job, the guy should be a freakin' general. His tactical skill is amazing!

That being said, I'm sort of relieved that he had to report back today. I get three whole days to rewind the past week and a half and analyze it. Where the hell did I lose all control? I don't get it. I throw myself into my relationships, but never like this. I don't freakin' lose it this quickly. I mean, it was like six month with Sexy before we even talked about dating exclusively. This guy is already talking about living with each other! Thank goodness I haven't lost all my marbles yet. I've managed to put the brakes on that much. Actually, I solved the problem by stating that if he could get my parents to agree that living together wouldn't be a problem, then I'd move in with him. Lol, he seems to think he can win them over this weekend. Then again, look at the damage he's done in a week and a half to me. Guess I shouldn't laugh, I might be living with him after this weekend.

You know, the thing that really gets me is that he's so good at killing me with kindness. He does these things that blow my mind. He picked up my guitar and played to me while I took a bath. He took over morning duties with the kiddies so I could sleep in. And don't get me wrong. I'm throwing up every resistance I can. The only reason he has met the kids this soon is that it was a futile attempt to scare the piss out of him. Wow, that so backfired on me. He really went above and beyond my expectations on that one. Now, my kids are in love with him which just binds him that much closer.

I really don't know what to do. I know I've said that before, but I don't think I've ever felt so out of control and frightened. I love being with him. I enjoy ever moment of his company. But am I ready for it to be for forever? This I am not certain of. Reality says that this is too good to be true. My heart says that only those who play the game get a chance to win. I just wish it didn't feel like it had to be all or nothing.

Oh, Lord! She's at it again!

2008-01-04T06:18:00.000-08:00

I am a hazard to myself. This, I am certain of. For someone who hates getting burned so much, I play with fire way too often.

Okay, the whole Sexy thing is past. It's strange, really. Damn, I loved that man. I can't tell you how much I loved him or how hard it was to let him go. I don't think I ever could express how deeply I felt the emotions I did for him. But the thing that boggles my mind is the ending wasn't apocalyptic in nature. The angels did not weep, the sun didn't explode in the sky, nothing. The ending completely belied the intensity of the rest of our relationship. We just.....walked away.

I was planning on giving it some time before I tried the dating thing again. I have this routine of jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire. I wanted to take some time, focus myself, build up the foundation of my life before trying to build more. I wanted to explore, see what the world had to offer. I wanted to celebrate my independence. I wanted to grow comfortable with being alone.

The funny thing about life is that it has a mind of its own. Here I am, minding my own business, trying to move forward, when BAM! All of the sudden, I'm neck deep in another romance, this one just as strange as the last. Half of me is so blown away by this new prospect. He's been everything I've ever wanted in a relationship. The things he's said and done has been beyond reproach. The other half of me is screaming, "What are you thinking!!!? Are you MAD, woman?!"

I don't know how this happened. I'm usually such a grounded person. I don't fall madly in love at first sight. I'm not so desperate for love that I cave at the first sign of tenderness, really I don't. And I don't take risks without weighing the pros and cons heavily first. I give things time, or I try my best. And yet, wow! All I can say is wow.

I don't know what to do. On one hand, I promised myself that I wouldn't become so jaded that I missed love and all the wonders of. On the other hand, I am so frightened. There seems to be so much at stake in such a short period of time. Did I say that things were intense with Sexy? Well, I have been educated, my friends. I have been educated.

A week ago today, I took a chance. I decided to meet someone face-to-face. I had been chatting with him online and on the phone for several weeks. I wasn't expecting more than the typical first date. Dinner, a movie, some conversation, and maybe a kiss good-bye. Our first date lasted 60 hours! And what's more, I would have loved for him to stay longer, but he had to work. You see, he's a soldier and you just don't call in sick to the Army. Otherwise, who knows how long the first date would have lasted.

I don't know. Maybe my brain hasn't recovered properly from the last go-round. And I realize it's still very early into the "honeymoon" phase. But, 60 hours, folks! The average date lasts 4 to 5 hours, so at a bare minimum, we put in about 12 dates in one weekend. And we've been almost inseparable since. In the last week, we spent one night apart.

I know, I'm an idiot. I'm begging for trouble. I would tell someone else in my shoes to stop right there and turn back around. I can make all the excuses in the world, but this is dumb. It just feels so right and so natural. I can't explain it.

I've been doing my best to put the brakes on this thing. I tell myself to stop and savor the experience. If he's the one after 60 hours, then he'll be the one after 60 days, 60 months, 60 years. And honestly, I am trying my best. We both have a nasty dating history. We have both made bad choices. These are very good reasons to take our time.

I say this, but I know myself too well. I don't need it, but that won't stop me from soaking up every second of it. He's coming over again tonight. It's our one week anniversary, lol. Yep, I'm a fool. Still, I'm a happy fool. Tomorrow morning, he'll watch my face as I sleep. He'll greet me with a cup of coffee he's made for me. He'll look into my eyes and wear this expression of wonder on his face. His eyes will hold unspoken amazement at how we arrived at this place. It will be a mirror of the same emotions on my face and in my eyes.

Yeah, I'm a hazard to myself. I'm going down like the Titanic and equivalent devastation is possible. I have not yet tread past the point of no return. I can still stop myself from falling into the deep end. The question is, do I want to?

Office Intrigue

2007-12-20T12:12:00.000-08:00

One thing I've learned about working in an office is that no one really likes anyone. At least, not behind their backs. To their faces, it's a different matter.

I have to say that I've long since given up trying to figure out the office politics at the career center. This one got a promotion, but no one else knows why. This one is whispering to that one, that one turns around and whispers about the first one, and by the end of the day, everyone talks bad about everyone.

I do my best to keep my nose out of it and my ears open. You never know when you'll hear something of interest. In fact, I've made it a daily mantra: Don't say anything; hear everything. I figure it will be the best way to keep myself from getting involved in the wrong thing at the wrong time.

I have to say, I do find the whole intrigue thing curiously amusing. I find myself surprised each time I discover that those who are in charge don't necessarily have the kind of power they think they do. In fact, if they cared to wire the office break room, they would discover some pretty interesting things themselves. Of course, it won't be me who suggests it.

***Sigh*** , two and a half more hours. I've been playing on the internet most of this. Is that not terrible? Again, I realize that there are plenty of people who would love to be in my shoes but it's driving me nuts. I really hate having to find ridiculous things to do to fill my time. I should be home doing my housework or something of a constructive nature. Honestly, I'd much rather go in the back room and take a nap. That would be a good use of my time too. And, it's not like they're paying me. Think I should put in a request?

Wicked Games

2007-12-14T01:47:00.000-08:00

I saw this video again for the first time in what seems like forever. I don't think I truly understood it the last time I heard it. I only wish I didn't understand it now.

Glutton For Punishment

2007-12-13T08:25:00.000-08:00

I went to see Sexy last night. Yep, I'm incorrigible. I went on the pretext of picking up some items left behind. I even told myself that I'd be picking up these items and nothing else. Of course, I'm not very good at lying to myself. I didn't believe me for one second.

At first it went well. I maintained my distance, but that never lasts long around him. You see, his hair was tousled. I can't help myself. I get around him and I want to touch. It starts out as small touches, laying my head on his shoulder, running my fingers down his arm. Innocent enough, right? Then, somehow, it progresses and I end up mauling him.

I knew what would happen when I showed up at his place. No matter how good my intentions, I can't resist the temptation, and my intentions weren't the most innocent last night. And later, in his arms, I confessed to the both of us that I wasn't there for the trinkets. I'm pretty sure he knew that already, but it was nice to be honest. Then again, he didn't invite me in just for idle chit-chat either.

The worst part is that after I make love to him, I just can't stop myself from whispering words of undying love to him. That's the part I was really trying to avoid, but I failed. I had hoped that he hadn't heard me, but he made some sort of response that could have been a similar remark in kind. I didn't ask him to repeat it. I was feeling a little ashamed about laying my feelings bare to him.

I don't know where this leaves us now. I'm so confused. On one hand, I know without a doubt that I want to be with him and only him. On the other, I'm not sure I'm ready to forgive him. He still hasn't asked about my biopsy. I don't want to be with someone who doesn't want to be with me, and I'm not sure where his feelings lie anymore. I know he wants me in the physical way. After last night, there's not a doubt in my mind. I'm just not sure if there's anything more than that for him.

Being with Sexy is a wicked pleasure. I've never felt anything so intense in my life. I battle myself daily. It doesn't seem like anything this amazing should be happening to me. And I'm not saying that I do not deserve to have good things happen to me. It just seems that our romance is something out of a movie. You just don't expect something like that to be real, and I feel like I'm stealing something that doesn't belong to me. I keep waiting for the Gods to smite me. Surely, something this deep and wild doesn't belong to mere mortals.

I wonder if this is the very thing that creates the bone of contention in our relationship. I worry that Sexy feels as if I'm putting him on a pedestal. Only, it's not him that I idolize. I know he's human and flawed. That's one of the reasons I love him so much. No, the thing that leaves me in awe is the rawness and intensity of my emotions for him. I think he fears, like me, that what is felt between us is something far grander that we should ever possess.

I'm at a loss. I have no idea what to do. I'm so afraid of losing this thing we have and never finding it again. I also know that even if I could find it again, I really don't want it with anyone else but Sexy. Still, I don't know if I can continue to commit myself to such uncertainty. I can't help but wonder if it's not better to go through life without this amazing passion if it means some stability. There's these invisible scales that are measuring my life right now. On one side, there's the love I always dreamed of. On the other, there's the stability I've always sought. I keep waiting for something that will tip the scales in one direction or the other.

My secret wish is that I could have both of these things. If Sexy would take a chance on me and work at having a serious relationship, I could die a happy woman. But if wishes were wings, pigs would fly. I've come to the realization that I'm not going to have both of these things. I just wish I could make my heart understand that. Perhaps, then, I could move on.

Isn't It Ironic?

2007-12-11T05:59:00.000-08:00

I think I missed the verse in the Alanis Morrissette song where it mentions the tree through your brand new, 1st time on your own house. That would definately fall under the ironic category, right?

The worst part of this was that my head was under the long branch. Another foot or so and I would've gotten my head scratched courtesy of Mother Nature.

I guess I should be upset, or even nervous about the whole thing, but honestly, I find it strangely humorous. I have a history of things coming through the ceiling at me. When I lived in Kansas, it was a 20 gallon bucket of water which I just barely missed being under. A last minute decision sent me in the opposite direction instead.

I'm starting to feel like I'm living in a final destination movie. I'm feeling very mortal at the moment. It just makes me wonder how many close calls I get before the anvil comes through the ceiling?

If this was the end of the damage, I would consider it a miracle, but I got another branch through the livingroom ceiling. It nearly knocked over my Christmas tree. You don't know how hard I've worked to keep that tree standing. It would be a shame to lose it to another tree now. I also have some pretty heavy limbs still on the roof that didn't manage to come through. I'm not sure how much damage I have at the moment.

I do know that I am one of the lucky ones. None of my personal property received any damage, including my head and my kids (my head being in the direct line of fire). I feel pretty blessed, actually. I didn't lose any family members. No one got hurt. And the worst any of us have to show for the whole storm is a couple of holes in the roof. Not to shabby, eh?

My Shameful, Wicked Self

2007-12-07T01:58:00.000-08:00

I have a date with Sexy tonight. This doesn't mean we're back together. Actually, I'm not sure what it means. Confusion is par for the course with us and this time is no different. I'm not even sure why we're getting together.

There's so much going on right now, I don't know where to start to explain this. It's been a month since our split. We've talked by text message on occasion, but it's been about things like the weather and such. It's like we're both doing this dance around the elephant in the room. Neither one of us wants to say it's over, but neither one of us want to go out on a limb.

Last night changed that though. Perhaps it was the snow. I don't know why, but snow always makes me sad if I don't share it with someone. And here I was in my empty house, and all I could think of was Sexy and how much I wanted him here. So, despite my intentions to remain strong, I reached out to him for comfort.

I know how it got started, but I'm not sure how I ended up going down the path I did. Before long, I was opening a very raw wound for his inspection. And don't get me wrong, I'm not worried about appearing weak. I am human, and humans need other humans. It's a fact of life. I wasn't even that worried about my pride. Pride is a poor companion if that is all you have. No, my shame was in using my sorrow to draw him to me.

Don't get me wrong, my melancholy wasn't faked. There are just some days when the weight of my responsibilities becomes a very heavy burden, when I become weary of carrying it alone. But it's not like I don't have anyone to turn to. I have a very supportive family and some very good friends, if few and far between. However, the one person I wanted was Sexy, and I know that despite the trouble we've had, he can't resist coming to the aid of a friend. So, I shared my sorrow, and a few truths that I promised myself I wouldn't. Funny how I can lie to myself and then turn around and tell him the whole truth. Or maybe not so funny.

Anyway, he wanted to cheer me up. He invited me to his place, but between the snow covered streets, my red, blotchy face, and my shame in pushing his buttons to get that invitation, I couldn't accept it. Guilt is a bitch. And yet, somehow, I ended up issuing an invitation of my own to come to my place the next night so we could "comfort" each other. He accepted, though I'll have to wait and see if he was serious.

So, now I'm wondering. Did he accept out of pity, out of love, or out of need for some physical comfort? Pity, love, or lust? I'm not sure I want to know the answer. All I know is that I have a very long day ahead of me to debate it.

I'm such a hazard to myself.

I Miss You (Poem)

2007-12-02T05:47:00.000-08:00

I Miss You

I’m writing a letter to you
and looking at a blank page.
I’m trying to say it all
without saying a thing.
I want to reach out to you
without destroying my walls.
They’re all that held me up
after our last phone call.
The angel and the devil overlook,
both cruel and both kind.
Lord help me, my heart
just can’t leave you behind.
I want you beside me,
but I fear the same.
I look at my blank page
with my head held in shame.

I don’t want to say I miss you
because then I might,
and I don’t know how much longer
I can keep up the fight.
I’ve tried to be strong.
I’ve tried to let go.
I’ve tried about every
thing that I know.
It still seems so wrong to end it this way.
There is so much that I still want to say,
but I don’t want to say I miss you.

I walk through my day
with a smile I don’t feel,
hoping that the effort
will soon make it real.
I celebrate every inch away
from you that I crawl,
while silently praying
for you to call.
And I think of all the things
I still want you to know.
It all plays through my head
like an endless slide show.

I don’t want to say I miss you
because then I might,
and I don’t know how much longer
I can keep up the fight.
I’ve tried to move on,
to take what life brings,
but my heart speeds up
every time the phone rings.
I just don’t want to play the fool again,
so I don’t want to be the one who gives in.
I don’t want to say I miss you.

State of Confusion

2007-12-02T04:47:00.000-08:00

Sexy sent me a text message last night. It's the first time in 2 1/2 weeks that I've heard from him. In his defense, he did make the first move. I'm just as guilty of being silent all that time. The thing is, I'm not sure what to do.

I've missed him. I've missed him so much I ache with it, but I still feel so raw about our latest breakup. I needed him in these past couple of weeks, with the biopsy and the stalker, but he wasn't there because he doesn't trust me. And I'm not sure the exact reason for the mistrust, but I have my suspicions. Mainly, I think, it's because I'm a woman. His ex did him dirty, and now he feels that all women are of the same nature.

I guess this is my biggest problem. I want so badly for others to see me as an individual and not one of a group. How does the Panteen commercial go? Be on in a million, not one of a million? I guess I just want to be special to someone, so I work so hard to be special, and all that work comes to nothing because some other woman prior to me screwed it all up. It's like when people say that women have periods because of Eve eating the forbidden fruit. I just want to know when I get to quit paying for someone else's sin.

I love Sexy. I want to be with him more than anything and these last couple of weeks have been Hell. It would be so easy for me to forgive and forget and part of me wants to really bad. But, part of me doesn't want to forget. I need him to put his faith in me and I'm not sure he'll ever be able to. I'm just not sure what to do. I'm not sure how to close the distance between us and I don't want to spend my life chasing after something that doesn't exist.

When we're together, when we're touching and kissing and loving each other, it's like something out of a dream. A fantasy in flesh. And I have a hard time seeing beyond that. I've wanted something like that for so long. I never felt like I deserved it, so I didn't think it could happen to me, and then it did. But there's so much sadness around it. And the sadness is not too high a price to pay for the happiness I feel when we're together, but I can't help but wonder if Sexy feels the same way. I don't want him to hurt because of me, and while I'd never do anything intentionally to hurt him, that doesn't mean I won't. But I also know that I'd never hurt him in the manner that he fears.

Perhaps I'm greedy. I want all of him, lock, stock, and barrel. I want to give him all of me. And maybe that's too much to ask for. I just don't know. I wish I knew the right thing to do. Do I keep trying, keep having faith? Or do I let it all go and start my life fresh?

I suppose only time will tell me the right answer to that question. I'm just not that patient. I've always been guilty of wanting answers and wanting them right away. And I want so badly to do the right thing for the both of us. I just wish I knew what that was.

My New Friend

2007-11-30T10:52:00.000-08:00

I'm having a pretty odd day today. The morning started off swiftly and pleasantly enough. I made it to work on time, again. I suprise myself by how quickly I get to work now. Of course, it's all highway traffic from point A to point B.

It was after I had been working a while that the weirdness began. About two hours into my workday, a regular client came in. Normally, this is nothing to be wary of, but this particular client has a tendency to stalk the female employees at the office, and guess who his new favorite person is!

Thankfully, the rest of the personel in the office are growing quite fond of me and took and interest in my well-being in this matter. Before he could weasel his way into my personal life, they threw up the walls and told this particular gentleman that he is not allowed to bother me. I feel so warm and fuzzy. It's really nice that my co-workers look out for me. My supervisor also assigned me to tasks that would keep me out of contact distance with him. He wasn't able to talk to me, so I'm hoping that it may have nipped it in the bud. Of course, one of the guys here told stalker dude that I'm married, so now I have to go out to the jewelry store tonight and find me something that will pass as a wedding band. Still, it could be much worse. I am getting a nice ring and avoiding a bad stalker this way. I like to think of it as an opportunity.

Well, I have three more hours until my day ends. I really have nothing to do but twiddle my fingers. I've finished taping up the emergency exit strategies. I've made sure all the fliers are well stocked. I've got all the packets made up and labels printed. I'm basically a free woman for a few hours, except for the fact that I have to stay here. I just wish this dang computer had solitaire on it. That's pretty mean of the administrators to block all the games. This is going to be a really long three hours.

They Make A Pill For That (Poem)

2007-11-29T20:52:00.000-08:00

THEY MAKE A PILL FOR THAT

You left without a reason.
You was lyin’; you was cheatin’,
but I was the fool for believin’
and it made me ill.

Couldn’t get up out of bed.
They make a pill for that;
now, I’m dancin’ ‘round instead.
Couldn’t get you off my mind.
They make a pill for that;
now, I’ve left you far behind.

It seems a waste to feel the blues
when the sun’s still shining.
It seems a waste to shed these tears,
so I’m done with crying.
I prob’ly should feel sad.
I prob’ly should be mad,
but I can’t seem to feel that bad.

You infected me just like the flu.
They make a pill for that;
now, I’m getting over you.
Couldn’t get past what you done.
They make a pill for that;
now, I’m having so much fun.

It seems a waste to feel the blues
when the sun’s still shining.
It seems a waste to shed these tears,
so I’m done with crying.
I prob’ly should feel sad.
I prob’ly should be mad,
but I can’t seem to feel that bad.
I shouldn’t be so fine.
I prob’ly should be dying,
but I can’t seem to find the time.

You left without a reason.
You was lyin’; you was cheatin’,
but doctors still make house calls.
There’s a cure for you after all.

Perfect Angel (Poem)

2007-11-25T23:12:00.000-08:00

Perfect Angel

You admired me from afar,
and built a picture on the things you saw.
You never cared to learn my darker side.
It was not something that I tried to hide.

It was so hard for me to let you down,
but what you wanted weighed me to the ground.
But those burdens weren’t the only things.
I was trying to fly with broken wings.

You’ve only seen me, so it seems,
as a perfect angel in your dreams.
But when reality
caught up with me,
you turned a deaf ear to my pleas.
I’d given you all of my love
but I guess it just wasn’t enough.
Because after all,
I was bound to fall
from this pedestal so high above.

And so I feel that I am not to blame.
It should be you who feels that awful shame.
You only saw what you wanted to see.
I could not live up to your fantasy.

You’ve only seen me, so it seems,
as a perfect angel in your dreams.
But when reality
caught up with me,
you turned a deaf ear to my pleas.
You’ve seen the sunlight catch my hair,
but not the shadows everywhere.
And now I’m all alone,
with no love of my own,
when you said you would always care.

GO MIZZOU!!!

2007-11-25T22:29:00.000-08:00

The pieces are starting to come together now. My home is almost completely finished. I have some trim work and some touch-up stuff to do yet, but I'm ready to move my furniture in. It came right down to the wire too. My sister will be here on Thursday to stay in Missouri for a month. Thank goodness I'll be out of there by then. I don't think I could take a month of living with her.

Tomorrow, I get back on track with all my errands. I've been a little, well, lazy to be honest. However, tomorrow is another day. I've got calls to make and things to pack and I'll finally be getting something done instead of traveling in circles. It feels really nice. I just wish I could be certain that I would get the results from my biopsy tomorrow. They told me to call in Tuesday if I hadn't heard from them by then. I know it's only another day's wait, but no matter how hard I try, I just can't seem to push the matter to the back of my brain.

And on an odd note, GO MIZZOU! Get on wit'cha bad self! Who's the number 1 ranked college football team? That's right, we are! I stayed up last night to watch their game with Kansas. For that matter, so did one of my boys. Of course, Kertis is still too young to understand the finer points of the game, but he knew to cheer for the team wearing "bwack and yeddow". Hey, he's only three years old. I consider it a major accomplishment that he sat still that long. He watched it with me up until the last 12 seconds of the game and then he went down for the count. Poor buddy. He was so tired. One second he was clapping, the next he gone. Of course, I fall asleep fast too.

Anyway, it's all pretty random tonight. Just wanted to say that the abode was dwellable finally and the kids are still wonderful, the news is still out and I'm still single. No, Sexy hasn't called, but I'm thinking this Wednesday or next he'll be ringing my phone. I'm just not sure I'm going to answer. Basically, life is getting back to normal. About time too. I was begining to think it never would.

Biopsy

2007-11-23T20:26:00.000-08:00

I had my biopsy earlier this week and I'm waiting (impatiently) for the results. I have to say, first of all, that the biopsy experience SUCKED!!!!! Still, the appointment itself went well. I learned a few things, like why they still wanted to do it with a negative HPV test. Seems that they're looking at the cells from my uterus and not my cervix, which means that if I have cancer I'll lose my uterus. Funny thing is that I'm not worried about it. I'm more relaxed knowing that I might have cancer than not knowing what I could have.

Actually, they're looking for pre-cancerous cells. I suppose that's like testing for HIV as opposed to AIDS. The results are supposed to take 2 to 3 days to get, but with Thanksgiving and all, they told me to expect them no later than Tuesday of next week. I'm so excited to be getting this over with. And maybe it's cocky of me not to be concerned that the results are positive, but I just don't think that cancer is something I have to worry about at this point in my life. Knock on wood.

Anyway, I have a few tips for others going through the same thing. My first tip is to have your mom or a good female friend with you for moral support. You may want to cry after and it's nice to have someone who will cry with you. Second, don't go during your ovulation period. It tends to hurt more and cause more cramping (feels like a pinch my ass!). It's probably best if you go the week after your period, since I was informed that it's typical for the tube to fill with blood, resulting in another attempt. Lucky for me, I excaped that hazard. Third, bring a pad and some advil. I know I'm creeping the boys out by this, but tough. This is important info. Last, but not least, make sure you have someone who can drive for you. I wanted to vomit after and I really wasn't up to driving. I didn't upchuck, but I wanted to.

So, that was my experience. I told them that if they lost the tissue sample I would go postal. I'm going to need serious drugs the next time, if there is one. If they call me in the next couple of days and say I tested positive for pre-cancerous cells, it's no big worry at this point. Their first option is to put me on hormones (like I'm not hormonal enough, lol). So, it's nothing drastic. All's well that ends quickly. I'd say all's well that ends well, but some of it wasn't so hot. I'll just be content for that phone call letting me know that everything's okay and I can move on.

Soooooo Booooored!

2007-11-15T11:00:00.000-08:00

I'm at my "JOB" today, and now that I'm done re-arranging the file cabinets and throwing away the trash that has piled up in them, I'm basically spending my time twiddling my fingers.

Now, I know that there are several people out there who would love a chance to sit there at their jobs and do nothing. I, myself, would normally be thrilled with this opportunity to relax. However, I could be doing something more constructive with my time and I have so much to get done, but instead, I am forced to sit on my butt so that I might support my kids. Does that make sense to you? Me neither.

I'm beginning to think that I'm going for the wrong degrees here. I always thought I was too lazy to work in a factory, but now I'm thinking that I'm not lazy enough to work in an office. My skin is too sensitive to do fast-food. I'm too pretty to work phone collections. What's the point of having a pretty face if no one gets to see it? I'm sort of at a loss as to what I should do. I'm mediocre as a parent. I apparently suck as a girlfriend, so a housewife is out of the question. Hmmm, what to do, what to do.

See, this is why I wish it paid something to be a poet. I'm good at that. It's just enough work to keep me happy. And if you don't believe that writing poetry for publication is work, just try to throw a novel or two together. It does require a lot of thought and even some physical labor. Anyway, it doesn't pay to be a poet. Not really. You could always spread the word about your work to your friends and family, but end the end, you only get so much royalties off of the people you know. I mean, once they buy a book, they're done. They don't need any more. Not unless their bookshelf catches on fire or something. And few people keep the books they buy. So, you have to take into consideration that most of the people who will read your book have received that book from a friend or relative. Of course, poetry isn't like mysteries or romance novels either. Those are more likely to be retained by purchaser.

Okay, well, I've killed a few minutes anyway. I know this is totally random and off the wall from my usual ranting, but I'm trying to keep from pulling my hair out and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to vent. Yeah, I know, I've been doing a lot of that lately. I'll snap out of my funk soon. Hopefully, I'll have the new home up and livable soon and I'll have a few more kinks ironed out by then. Maybe after the holiday season, things will settle down (I hope, I hope, I hope).

Please, Santa, I've been a good girl this year. I would like an ounce of peace, a pound of sanity, and about 160 pounds and six feet of hunk on my doorstep. I am, after all, a single girl now. I think I'm about due for a good man who will treat me right. Get back to me for other specifications.

Nothing

2007-11-14T19:23:00.000-08:00

About the time I start to understand things, the foundation of these things change. I sometimes wonder what it is that I'm doing wrong that this world is so chaotic for me. I know people who only see this world in black and white. I've only seen shades of grey. I've always felt that my way was the right way, but I've envied those others so much. It's so simple for them. There is only right and wrong, love and hate, day and night. There is no between. It is such a simple way to live.

Tonight is such a hard night for me. I'm so torn. I want something, but in order to make someone I love happy, I have to let it go. Only, I'll be so devestated to lose it. How do you solve a problem like that?

I guess I should explain, but for once I don't want to. I'm not even sure why I started writing tonight. I guess it's because that there seems so much left unsaid. I'm losing something so dear to me, and it's gone in the blink of an eye, no warning. A big piece of your life is gone in a nanosecond, and you don't get the opportunity to bring it back and make it come out different.

Different. If I could make things different. I'm not sure what I'd change, really. I don't have any regrets. I loved him. I treated him the way I wanted him to treat me. There's nothing I could change to make things end differently.

I just want to know, did he ever love me at all, or did I lie to myself this whole time? Did he cling to a kind touch because he was down? Did I give him too much, make it too easy for him? I just want to understand. That's all. Why is that so hard?

The Fortunate One (Poem)

2007-11-11T04:32:00.000-08:00

The Fortunate One

I've never lived up to my potential.
I've never been all I could be.
So I can't understand
why I've been so blessed
to have you, here, next to me.

How did I get so lucky, babe?
There's those that say it's a long time
comin' to me.
Don't know if I agree.
How did I get so lucky, babe?
I don't feel like I deserve those gifts
from up above;
to be wrapped up in your love.
So how did I get so lucky?

I haven't always chose the right path.
I haven't done all I could do.
So it just blows my mind
that when you look at me,
you're askin' God the same thing too.

How did I get so lucky, babe?
There's those that swear it's a long time
comin' to me.
Can't say that I agree.
How did I get so lucky, babe?
I wish I knew just what I did
to be so blessed.
I haven't given all my best.
So how did I get so lucky?

I know that when this day is done

I am the fortunate one.

I've been gifted with your love,

and I'm so lucky.

Counting My Blessings

2007-11-11T02:42:00.000-08:00

I'm in a pretty humble mood tonight. It happens from time to time when I think about where I am in life and where I could be. I'm not one of those people who spend my time thinking about the "what if's". Not in the sense of wanting things to change anyway.

See, I'm one of those fortunate people who feel they are, well, fortunate. I'm not rich. I'm not famous. I don't have a Nobel prize or a Grammy. I'm just your average American girl. Another statistic, one might say. The thing is, I love it. So, when I think about what could have been, I think about how lucky I am to be where I'm at, chaos and all.

I can't say that I'm totally content with my lot in life. I just don't think that there's anyone to blame but myself. I've made some mistakes. However, I'm pretty happy with my mistakes too. All of them have helped me grow into the person I see in the mirror each morning. I'm okay with that. There's things I'd like to change, but most of them are minor. Let's face it, I'm the total package the way that I am. I'm pretty. Not in the supermodel, fashionista, ice princess kinda way. My charm is more natural, and I'm grateful for that. Think of all the time I'd lose on the pointless endeavor of remaining perfect. Because in the end, it's a losing battle. I'm smart. I'm not a genius, but I can add, spell (most of the time), figure out how to assemble toddler toys by the directions in the box, and I can usually find a way to figure out solutions to all my problems within reason. So much better than being totally booksmart with no common sense, or being streetsmart with no understanding of figures or words. I'm a lot of things that most people don't give any consideration to being.

I'm truly blessed, this I know without a doubt. I have three beautiful, smart (crazy smart), gifted children. I have a romance that most women would die for. It's not perfect, but that's what makes it so amazing. Sexy is so real. I'd have to write a novel to explain that, but those who truly love their mates know what I'm talking about. I feel like such a fraud sometimes. I feel like I'm living a life that someone better than me deserves, but here is this real guy, a guy who struggles and succeeds, a guy who loves with such great passion, a guy who's capable of changing the world, and he loves me, flaws and all. I have the best family and friends in the world. They all have such deep capability to love and give of themselves. They see me to the very depths of my soul and they support the person I am. I am blessed. So blessed. I can't even begin to describe how blessed I am. And I don't know why God feels that I am so deserving of such blessing, but I am so humbled by it. There are so many people out there that could do more with the gifts that I have been given.

If there is one thing I could change about my life, it would be that. I would do more. I would give more. I'd be more patient, more tolerant, more kind. And I guess that doesn't mean I couldn't start now. Why waste time with regrets when you can just change the way things are?

It's times like these, when I'm thinking about all that I am, and all I could be, that I feel a sadness. It seems so strange that I would get a moment of such deep understanding, but lose such insight when enduring the trials of life. I get so caught up in the moment that I often forget my good intentions. That would be a thing I'd change. My ability to remember the really important things.

I guess that's why I feel like such a fraud. I have this ability to understand the greater truths of life. I don't question why I'm here. I know why I have the challenges I have. I know why I have life. I just don't do what I'm supposed to do with it. I make excuses instead. I didn't give change to the bell ringers at Christmas because I didn't have time to stop and dig through my purse. I didn't take the time I should have with my loved ones because I had other responsibilities to tend to. I've wasted so much time. And time is a fragile thing. It's so easily lost, lost forever. We think that because it lives on through our minds as memories that it's not really gone, but it is.

I suppose it's a shame, but it took my upcoming biopsy to make me think of this. I guess that I know that everything will be okay, but I feel like it would be so egotistical of me to believe that I'm untouchable. You see, I've said that God wouldn't take me from this Earth until my kids are grown. I'm such a better parent than my ex. God wouldn't take me from them and leave them to their father, who couldn't possibly understand things enough to teach them how to understand in turn. But I can't help but wonder, am I really any better? Would they really learn so much from me, the one who takes her blessings for granted? You see, I'm a firm believer that parents are there only as guides for young minds to learn from. The truth is, they are not really gifts to me. I don't own them. Never have. I belong to them, actually. Yes, I helped give them life, but now their life is theirs, not mine. I'm just here to teach them all that I know, to show them how to love, to teach them about faith, to give them my understanding so that they can build on it and become better people that I ever dreamed of being.

You see, I really am blessed. To believe that I am qualified enough to do such an important job would be vain of me. I have such amazing potential in the palm of my hands to mold. I have been gifted with this incredible task, but I know that I alone am not worthy. So, God made sure that I had enough struggle to strengthen me for it. God made sure that I had truly amazing people around me to help support me with this job.

I'm not trying to be preachy. Most people who know me couldn't even begin to understand the depths of my faith. No, this is not just an attempt to sing praise, though I don't doubt that I should be doing that more as well. I'm not ever sure what I'm trying to do. Perhaps this is my way of thanking everyone for being a part of my life. I probably don't deserve your time, your concern, your love (even love in the smallest form), but you give it just the same. Every moment a person gives of their fragile, fleeting time is a moment of love. You may not even have me on your Christmas card list, but you care enough to take a moment to read this. And yeah, that just blows my mind.

Perhaps this is just a way to sort this out in my own mind. I don't feel as if I am worthy of all that I have been given. Even the hard times are a gift. I may bitch and moan about them, quite frequently actually, but I've taken something valuable out of each trial I've faced. In becoming a single parent, I have learned to appreciate all the blessings I have in my family and friends. I haven't learned to act on them the way I need to yet, but I'm still working on it. In the struggles I've faced in fixing up my home, I've learned to value all the things it takes to make a home and all the things my parents have done over the years to provide a home for me and my siblings. In having extra responsibility placed on my shoulders to care for myself and my children, I have learned to cherish the fruits of my labor and not take for granted that these things are owed to me as a member of the human race. Even in the "involuntary volunteer work" that I'm required to do to keep the assistance I've applied for due to the lack of support from my ex, I have found small treasures. I have found people who make an attempt to support me during my trials for no more reason than they want to help me succeed. They owe me nothing, they get nothing but my gratitude for their help. And still, they give. I have met people who are facing bigger trials than I with less means to overcome them. It gives me humility. They have less, and yet, many of them work so much harder than I. I've met people that I would have turned from before being required to tend to them. I've discovered how flawed I truly am and how much work I need to do on myself to be worthy of the gifts I have been given. Yes, perhaps this is a way to sort this out in my head. Perhaps by writing this all out, I have seen how much I have grown over the last couple of years and how to grow further so that I can live up to my potential. Maybe I am discovering why I am so blessed by exploring what I do have.

Hmmm, this reminds me, Thanksgiving is almost here. I didn't even give this much thought before. I learned the reason for the season, but I guess I didn't truly apply it to my life. And boy, do I ever have a lot to be thankful for. This also gives me an idea about a new tradition to start with my kids. I think that I shall pick a day in November to sit down with my kids and start a list of all the things to appreciate about our lives and why we're appreciative of them. Then, when we sit down for that enormous Thanksgiving dinner that my wonderful family creates, we can go over that list. Maybe then, we might fully realize the bounty we have before us. And perhaps, while we fill our bellies with good food, our ears with laughter, and our hearts with love, we can also fill our minds with understanding and help each other learn how to show those people that we are grateful to how much they mean to us.

See, I may not be worthy of the blessings I have, but I'll be content with myself as long as I keep acknowledging I have them and trying to be worthy of them. In the end, I know that is what I'm meant to do. It is my purpose in this world. And to start, I just want to say to anyone who has read this far, thank you.

The Pain of Darkness

2007-11-05T02:16:00.000-08:00

I've been battling the inner demon of worry for the past month or so. I went to the doctor a couple of months ago for my yearly girlie exam. Even after three kids, this is an uncomfortable experience. You'd think that after having nearly every doctor in my home town and a couple of neighboring cities up my parts that I wouldn't get so shy about it, but I still like to keep my privates... well, private.

Anyway, after a month of waiting, I finally get a call back on the results. Abnormal. This in itself is not a concern. I didn't even begin to worry at this point. There are many reasons for an abnormal result and most of them are nothing to worry about. Still, there is protocol to follow. It means another visit, another more detailed screening with yet another doctor. This time, I got a girl, which somehow makes it easier to endure. She did a screening for the HPV virus which causes cervical cancer among other things. She told me that if this came back negative, no more work would need to be done, but if it was positive, I would need a biopsy.

I waited again for the results. Negative. However, my doctor felt that I still needed to come in for the biopsy. So, here in another week, I have to go in and have part of me that I've carried with me for 27 years cut out of me. I'm not very happy about this. I'm also very worried.

Okay, I admit, I'm a compulsive worrier. I tend to let my imagination blow things out of proportion. So I researched. Bad idea. I actually felt worse after that. None of it sounds good at all. And all of this worry keeps coming back to the fact that the doctor still wants me to do a biopsy with a negative HPV after first telling me that it wouldn't be necessary. The reason the doctor gave for it is because of the particular cells that are abnormal. Why doesn't that sound good?

I haven't told many people. I've been waiting to find out the results before I do that. I have sought reassurance from a select few. My mom for one. I know that even while she tells me it's going to be okay, she's gonna worry it to death with me. It's nice to know that someone else is gonna help me bear my burden. I also told Sexy. I don't know why I told him, exactly. The only reason I can think of is that he shares a certain affection with me for the afflicted part. I figured he'd also be personally upset at the thought of it being even slightly butchered.

I guess his response was not what I was searching for from him. He did the typically thing, telling me not to worry about it just yet. I know he's concerned about my well-being. I know he's not trying to push my feelings to the side like they don't matter. I guess I just don't want to hear that it's okay for the time-being. It's not okay. There's something wrong. Even if the biopsy comes out okay, the doctor feels there is something wrong enough there to warrant a closer, more painful look. I'm not okay with that. I don't want sharp objects in that general area. I don't want to wait yet another month for the results. I don't want people to say the glass is half full. I want the damn glass totally full.

Okay. Time to breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Better.

I suppose what it is that I wanted was for Sexy to worry with me too. I realize that he probably is. It's hard to dwell on the fact that a loved one is potentially seriously ill in a way that you can't do anything about. When they have a cold, you can bring them soup. When they have a cut, you can bandage it. But what do you do if it's the big C? I mean, that's what I'm really looking at here. No, it's much easier to push it to the back of the mind until a time when I has to be faced. At least, it is for most people. I just have a hard time pushing things to the back of my mind. I don't start feeling better until I know exactly what it is that I'm dealing with. I'd feel better knowing that I had cancer for sure than not knowing what I had. I suppose that sounds funny, but once you know what you're dealing with, you can start dealing with it. It's the damn waiting and wondering that drives me up the wall.

I guess, in the end, there's nothing to do but wait. I just wish I didn't have to. And I wish, I don't know, that maybe there was some way to make the waiting less painful. I just don't know how to do that. I don't know if having Sexy pulling his hair out with me would make it better. Even if he did, I know that I'd just spend me time telling him that it was okay and that there was nothing to worry about at this point in time. Funny how that works, isn't it?

Well, I do have to say that writing it out does make me feel better. And somehow, knowing that others are reading this and are feeling concern for me helps as well. And maybe, a few of you will keep me in mind when you say your prayers the next time. I would be most appreciative. Maybe it will help make this next week go faster, and then I can get the hardest part of the ordeal over with. After that, I get to find out what's going on and with knowledge comes understanding, and with understanding comes the tools to battle fear.

Don't Wait For Me (Poem)

2007-10-28T23:04:00.001-07:00

Don’t Wait For Me

I’m not asking you to stay.
I’m not asking you to go.
But which ever way you run
then there’s something you should know.
I can’t give you my heart,
‘cause it’s not mine anymore.
It’s not fair for me to promise you
a prize behind the door.
I can’t leave you sitting there, so patiently.
Don’t wait for me.

Well, I’ve tried to open up.
Yes, I’ve tried to let you in.
You’re a good man, and I want more
than to be just friends.
But I still see his handsome face
when I close my eyes.
I still hunger for his touch, alone.
I won’t tell you no lies.
You deserve so much more than what we’d be.
Don’t wait for me.

I know you’re a treasure
sent from God above.
But I learned long ago
you can’t choose who you love.
And though he’s long gone now,
I still cannot break free.

So, don’t wait for me.

Fortune Cookies Lie!!!!

2007-10-28T22:17:00.000-07:00

I've been eating a lot of Chinese food as of late. I just get in these moods where I crave a particular food, or style of food, and cannot rest until I get my fill. No, I'm not pregnant (shudder at the thought).

Anyway, I always end up ordering around $50 of the stuff for me and my kin at each order. Therefore, I always get a lot of fortune cookies. I never eat the dang things. However, I can't seem to stop myself from breaking each one open to read the little saying inside. I guess it's the optimistic part of my nature.

I have only one thing to say about fortune cookies. They lie. Actually, I have several things to say about them. First of all, very few of them tell what I consider a fortune. Most of them have dumb sayings like, "A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush." Or they say something like, "Your friends consider you to be a valuable person to know." Whatever. Like that really impresses me. Of course my friends value me. They wouldn't be my friends otherwise. I'm not rich, famous, or sleeping with someone rich and/or famous.

But the thing about fortune cookies that really ruffles my feathers are those gems that pose as a real fortune. I received one the other day that said, "You will cross great waters on a fun vacation soon." Huh? Great waters? Does this mean an ocean? I'm broke, my schedule is booked, and I'm not sleeping with someone rich and/or famous. And how do they define the word soon? Soon, as in the next couple of days? Soon, as in the next month or so? Or are they basing this off the time scale of a Galapagos turtle? They live, like, 300 years or something, don't they? By their standard, within a decade or two is soon.

Seriously, folks, I'm thinking oceanic travel is not in my playing cards. However, I did save that little slip of paper. I have it posted on my fridge. I take a little mental trip when I look at it. I think of all the places I won't be going. I imagine what it would be like to be on a ship with nothing but water all around for as far as the eye can see. I suppose it sounds silly, but I've led a sheltered life. At this point in time, I haven't seen the ocean, much less traveled it. It's one of the things on my "to do" list. You know, the list we all have filled with things we never really believe we'll get checked off.

Still, despite the fact that I don't believe in cookie fortunes, and regardless of the fact that I think the cookies themselves taste like crap, I doubt I'll stop breaking them open. Maybe I'm being overly optimistic, but I can't help but hope that one day I'll find a really good fortune that does come true. Something like, "A fortune cookie in the hand is worth a bazillion dollars in your bank account." Then I really could travel some great waters.

White Lies (Poem)

2007-10-09T00:51:00.000-07:00

White Lies

I understand your fear
of being trapped by love.
You’ve been hurt before,
but you can’t get enough.
I’m to whom you turn when you want to be free.
A couple of white lies and you’ve got me.

As the incense slowly burns to an end,
as the smoke softly dances ‘round my head,
as the candles flicker on the wall,
it takes so very little and I fall.
As you say that I’m the only one,
I realize it’s just one night of fun.
And to my shame, I’m the only one to blame.

You know just what to do
to get my will to fall.
You’ve hurt me before,
and I put up this wall.
But still, I turn to you when I think you’re free.
I tell myself white lies, and you’ve got me.

As the incense slowly burns to and end,
as the smoke softly dances ‘round my head,
as I admit to myself, unwillingly,
that tomorrow you will walk away from me.
As you say that I’m the only one,
I realize it’s just one night of fun.
And to my shame, I’m the only one to blame.

Did My Tears Mean So Little? (Poem)

2007-10-09T00:47:00.000-07:00

Did My Tears Mean So Little?

Did my tears mean so little?
Did you care my heart broke?
Did you, once, ever try,
or was it all just a lie?
Did you laugh when I became your joke?

Did my tears mean so little?
Did my pain cause you guilt?
Did you love me at all,
or did I, alone, fall?
Did you have to tear down what we built?

Did my tears mean so little?
Did my pleas reach deaf ears?
Did my love suffocate,
or did your love abate?
Did my tears mean so little, my dear?

As The Dust Settles

2007-10-08T23:28:00.000-07:00

Another session of school over and I might as well not have went. The last two weeks were the worst. Needless to say, I'll be taking those classes over.

I have no one to blame but myself, of course. Seems like I've been shuffling my feet way too much lately. Well, more like a River Dance than a shuffle. Feet flying every which way and not really moving. Then again, I have had a lot on my plate as of late.

The home repairs aren't going too well. About time we feel as if we're making ground, we discover a new problem that sets us back a bit. The current problem is the living room. I bought some of that snap-in wood laminate for the floors and we discovered that the floor is too uneven to put it in without some major moderation. The typical roller coaster has less dips and peaks. At least the painting is almost done. If I never smell oil based Kilz again it will be too soon.

Sexy and I are doing okay at last count. He got in a bit of trouble a couple of weeks back and it seems to have woken him up about his situation. I admire him so much for taking the steps to move forward in his life and put his mistakes behind him. I also want to strangle him for being so dang stubborn. He's under the impression that he'd be weak to take help in getting his life straightened out. It actually takes more strength to ask for help, but he'll learn that eventually. It's one of the things I love most about the man, he's capable of learning. You'd be surprised at how many people just refuse to learn after a certain point in their lives. They think they have it all figured out and won't accept anything different.

In other news, I'm going to be taking my ex back to court. I've finally wrangled up enough funds to put a retainer on my attorney so I can get the ball rolling again. I'm both excited and scared out of my wits. It's sad really. I know my ex is such a little man. He's incapable of causing me any real pain, but I dread having to confront him. He's just so angry. He won't let reason past his anger. The worst part is he takes his anger out on whom ever will get him the results he wants. He wants to get me worked up, so he takes it out on the kids knowing that I'll get worked up over that. It's like beating your head against a brick wall every time you come across it. Eventually, you just dread coming across that particular wall. The worst part is knowing that you have no choice in the matter. Because the kids need both of us, I have to deal with him.

Last but not least, as of this week, I'm going to be an involuntary volunteer. I'm required to work 20 hours a week of "work activity" to keep the cash assistance I'm getting in place of the child support my ex isn't paying. So, here's the deal: They pay me $342 a month which is supposed to support four people. My ex is supposed to pay $395 a month in child support (which he isn't) but they keep that to pay off the cash assistance they pay me. In other words, the government is not out anything, or wouldn't be if my ex was on the up and up. On top of that, they require that I work 20 hours a week of work activity to keep the full amount of my assistance. Between the kids being in Headstart and my own schooling, not to mention doctors' appointments, remodeling a home, and court battles, my available schedule to work is a bit askew. This means the only thing that's really available to me is volunteer work. But wait....it gets better. The place I'll be volunteering at is the unemployment office! How ironic is that? I'm working ten times as hard to get the money my ex should be paying to begin with and the government is getting free labor for nothing. How screwed up is that? The worst part is that my time at school would have counted if I was working on a year or less degree. Since I'm going for a bachelors and an associates, it doesn't count. More education, less credit. Somehow, this just doesn't add up to me. But who am I to complain? I'm getting a free education, I get the privilege of being able to stay home with my kids while they're with me, and I'm surrounded by people who are willing to give me a hand when I'm down. I'm damn lucky. I don't deny it. Still, I can't help but wonder every time I try something new to make my life and the lives of my children better if I'm not potentially shooting myself in the foot.

Despite all the glitches in my chaotic little life, I have to say that I'm really happy right now. I know that it doesn't seem that way by my writing at times, but I'm really in a good spot, for the most part. All three of my kids are almost completely potty trained, I'm getting a home of my own, I'm surrounded by people who love me, not for what I can do for them but for who I am, and though a lot of doors are closed to me now, there's still quite a few windows open. Life is good. Chaotic, but good.

By the way, my baby sister had her baby a few weeks back. An 8 lb + chunk of baby boy. He has eyes like my sister and a mouth like his daddy. My sister is slowly learning about all the crazy things I've been telling her over the past few years. You don't really appreciate how hard it is to take care of a newborn until you have the total responsibility of one. She's about ready to pull her hair out. A little tiny part of me is screaming, "Told You So!" Most of me wants to sooth her. Babies are hard work and she doesn't have family close to her to help. I had my parents, at least, even if my ex was worthless. My mother is a saint. If not for her, I wouldn't be where I'm at today. In fact, I'd probably be bald and in a padded room. I know my sister is craving the companionship of family right now. Especially of the feminine variety. If all goes well, I'm going to see if I can make a trip to Maryland to visit her and give her some much needed relief. Plus, I get to hold my newest little nephew.

Crazy as it seems, I miss having a baby around the house. I kinda got cheated when I had mine. The first one you always try to rush through. You're so excited about seeing the next stage that you don't take time to appreciate the stage they're in. By the time Desi was ready to start walking, the boys came along. With them, I just didn't have the time to appreciate anything. Twice the baby, four times the work. Add on a toddler and you have a made for TV comedy. Yep, my life strangely echoes Everybody Loves Raymon, down to the psycho mother-in-law and the worthless bumbling idiot of a husband. Now, I've divorced out of the comedy and right into the Lifetime television mini-series. Maybe when the dust settles, I'll have a nice little screen play. I'm making the request to have Charlize Theron play the part of moi now.

Procrastinator

2007-09-24T22:15:00.000-07:00

I've been slacking off a bit in my responsibilities lately. For this, I am feeling a bit guilty. My kids are still getting proper care and I'm not living in a dump, but I'm not meeting the expectations I have for myself either. I've been spending a lot of time with my nose in a book or sleeping during my free time. I know I should rectify this as soon as possible, but I'm feeling very selfish at the moment. It seems like I do a lot of things for other people but very little for myself.

Part of the problem with getting myself motivated is that it seem like everything I've taken on lately is a never-ending task. Wash, fold, scrub, pick up, drive, repair, paint, work, work, work. Get some sleep then start again. It's almost odd. I crave stability but hate the monotony of it. Maybe this is why I pursue Sexy so much. Nothing is ever monotonous with him. Everything is passionate.....intense.

I've been giving a lot of thought about this in the last couple of weeks. I like being aware of the reasons for why I do something. I also like making a forward progress towards my goals. Only lately, it seems as though I'm moving more in circles than anything. It's one step forward and two steps back. It's frustrating.

I can't say that it's all been hopeless. I am getting closer to being independent. I'm getting further on the repairs to my new home. I'm not as far as I think I should be or hoped I would be, but I'm getting there. Each day brings me another step or two closer and gives me a small sense of victory. The only question now is if I'll be ready when my place is. It will be the first time I've lived somewhere as the only adult. I'm excited, but I'm also a little frightened. I worry that I'm not up to the task of doing it all on my own. I've been sharing my responsibilities for as long as I can remember. But this time is different. I'm totally responsible and I have people counting on me to take care of my responsibilities.

Anyway, speaking of responsibilities, I'd best be going. I need to hit the sack so I can get up early and get some work done. I've procrastinated long enough. I won't have that luxury much longer, so I'd best get prepared for it now. Say a prayer and wish me luck. I can use all of it.

A Cut Above The Rest

2007-09-16T21:45:00.000-07:00

The thing I love and hate most about my life is that I never know what the day will bring. My life doesn't follow any sort of structure, even though I crave it. What I want most out of life is stability, to know, day to day, what to expect. At the same time, I never get bored. I always have the possibility of adventure every day I wake up.

I suppose that's one of the reasons I love Sexy so much. My relationship with him fits in with the rest of my life so well. Each day with him is an adventure. It's both wonderful and frustrating. While I crave stability with him, I also love the fact that any time, any place, we can find ourselve pushing the boundaries and each other's buttons.

Lord, that man gets me fired up! He's my fantasies in flesh. And no, this is not a purely sexual comment. I want more from a guy than a good toss. Eventually, the passion fizzles if there's nothing to back it up. But I'm not worried about it with him. He's got everything I'm looking for, and a few things I didn't know to look for. And his smile. Good Heaven, his smile! I'm not superficial, but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate his good looks too.

I could make a list a mile long about all the qualities in Sexy that draw me to the man. In fact, I actually made that list already, before I even met him. A friend of mine from Kansas once told me that if I was going to find the man I really wanted, I'd first have to know what kind of man I wanted. She suggested I make a list of all the qualities I wanted in a significant other and post it in a place I'd see every day. She said once I knew what I was looking for, I'd find it.

Well, I made my list, but I tucked it away in a drawer when I was done. I didn't take it out again until several years later, long after Sexy and I started seeing each other. And you know what? He had every quality I listed. Go figure. I didn't even have to look at my list every day. Once I had really though about what I was looking for, it stuck in the back of my head. It's probably one of the reasons I was never really content with my ex-husband. He didn't have what it took to make my list. He lacked most of the important qualities I needed.

I don't have my list anymore. I gave it to Sexy at one point, just to show him that I had been looking for him for a long time. I don't know what he did with it after that. I really don't need it in any case. I found what I was looking for. I found the man that touches me on every level. I found the man that inspires my creativity and my passion. I found the one who has strength where I am weak, who compliments me in every way that matters. I am so, so lucky.

I imagaine that he will continue to drive me up the wall on occasion. I'm also sure I'll do the same for him. I would bet on the fact that we haven't seen the last of our troubles. I'd also bet that we'll be able to fire each other up until our dying breaths. I'm not much of a gambling person and I've always felt like the odds of finding my "soul mate" were pretty slim, but I can't deny the fact that it's happened. I feel complete when I'm laying there beside him.

Yeah, I may not know everything that my day will bring, but that's okay. As long as it brings me another moment with Sexy, I'll be happy. Even if he's driving me crazy and refusing to see sense, I'll be happy. Because whatever we do, I know we'll do it with great passion. Lord, I love that man!

Bliss (Once Again)

2007-09-16T11:13:00.000-07:00

JOY! Heaven help me, I'm so happy I could burst! I'm skipping around the house like a schoolgirl with her first crush. I'm singing off key and dancing with my children and laughing like I haven't laughed in a long time.

I imagine that it's difficult for those who ride my emotional roller coaster with me. It must be so exhausting. One day happy, the next sad, the next ecstatic. It exhausts me too, but I love it. I feel so much, so deeply. After years upon years of being numb and on the outside, I'm finally deep in the middle of something so intense that I'm frozen in awe.

Yes, Sexy and I have reconciled. It was beautiful. It was perfect. I'm smiling so hard my face feels like it will crack. I love him. I love him and it doesn't matter what happened. We still have so much to conquer, but we'll do it together.

I can't write much at the moment. I have a lot of things yet to finish and the natives are getting restless. Kert is flushing shampoo down the toilet and Cody & Desi are fighting again. I shall, however, be back on later when everything has settled down, including myself. I'm so happy! I just wanted everyone to know that everything has worked out. I can get that tattoo of Sexy's name on my butt now. Yay!

One Hard Day

2007-09-16T10:59:00.000-07:00

Written September 14th, 11:30 p.m.

Today was a hard day. I woke up after only three and a half hours of sleep feeling like someone had punched me in the gut. I wanted to go back to sleep. I tried to go back to sleep. It didn’t work.

So, I got up. It may not have been the hardest thing I did all day, but it was quite an accomplishment. I wouldn’t have done so if not for a doctor’s appointment. It was too late to call and cancel it, so I left the comfort and security of my covers.

I think this is the first (and probably only) time I have enjoyed the wait in the reception area. I thumbed through a magazine dated from February of last year. It had Valentine’s treats and cards on the cover. I probably should have caved at the sight, but I didn’t link it to my current situation. I didn’t really read it either. I looked at the pictures, the clothing and accessories, the craft ideas. I didn’t think of Sexy for 45 minutes.

I went back to my house after my visit. I hate driving. I think too much when I drive. Mom and Dad were both waiting for me when I walked in the door. Mom knew something was up right away. I didn’t have to say a word and she knew. She prodded as mothers are prone to do. I told her I didn’t want to talk about it. Talking about it means thinking about it. I didn’t want to think about it.

I guess you don’t always get what you want because, despite the fact that I refused to talk about it, I kept thinking these thoughts. I thought about how I finally understood how people can die from a broken heart. I never really understood it before. I thought I did, but I really had no clue. When the pain is so intense that you vomit, then you start to understand.

The rest of my day was filled with small misfortunes. A missed deadline here, a lost item there. I didn’t even have the strength to get upset. My mom was there with me through it all. She tried to help carry my burden, but I wasn’t ready to share. I felt like a sweater, all frayed and worn, and releasing one iota of my rigid control would unravel me. I knew that my mom felt my pain and talking about it would help heal her, and I wanted to. I didn’t want her to be worried about me. I couldn’t, however.

I picked my kids up from my ex tonight. I was worried about it. I didn’t feel as if I was up to facing them. I just wanted to sink back into bed and sleep. Only sleep wasn’t an option. They needed me. I needed them too. I didn’t even realize it until I got them home. I held them, played with them, smiled with them. I healed a little. I still have a long way to go, but it was a start.

I feel proud of myself for getting through the day. It was so hard, and I still ache so much. My bed still beckons me along with the blissful, empty slumber I’ll find there. I just wish I wasn’t so afraid of tomorrow. I’ll have to wake up again. I’ll have to leave my cocoon of oblivion again. But for now, I don’t have to think about it. I made it through today. I made it through today.

Agony

2007-09-16T10:51:00.000-07:00

Written September 14th, 3:00 a.m.

I don’t know how I function under the weight of my own agony. The air in my lungs, the beat of my heart, seem like such a mockery. The hope that refuses to die adds insult to injury. And it’s all for love. All for love.

I’m so confused and I’m so hurt. Every word that he said is a weight in my belly. I want to vomit them up, but they don’t move. I can’t scream. I can’t cry. I want to shout at the injustice of it all. I want to be angry. But I don’t have room for anger. His words, each one a razor, take up that space.

I just got out of the shower when he called. I had been waiting for his call. I told myself I wouldn’t run to him when he did, but I was getting ready to see him. I don’t know why I lie to myself. I know I don’t wear that perfume to go to bed. I wear it for him.

He asked me what I wanted. It’s the same question I’ve been asking myself for the past two weeks. I gave him the only answer I knew to give him, the only answer I knew for sure. I told him that I didn’t want to fight with him anymore.

He told me it was over. I didn’t want to fight with him. He told me he had been with another, a girl that had called herself my friend. I sat there in my towel, wearing the perfume that he likes. I sat there with my heart breaking. I could feel it, see it. My heart had left my chest and broke, right there before me.

I asked him who, but he wouldn’t say. I told him that I couldn’t do it anymore. I told him to give me my key back. He said he would tomorrow. I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t lay there in bed knowing that it was over, but not over. I couldn’t let my hope live.

I told him I’d be at his place in ten minutes to get my key. I hung up the phone and grabbed some clothes. I got them on right side out and front side forward. I don’t know how. I also grabbed the book I got him. It was about how our friendship was a true one. I grabbed the movies I bought him. He loves the Rocky movies. He has them on VHS but not DVD. I got him the DVDs so he could watch them over and over. I dreamt about laying beside him on his couch and watching them with him. I love being a part of what he’s passionate about. There was no way I could keep them. I couldn’t bear the reminder of what never was.

I pulled up in front of his house. I don’t remember driving. I didn’t think about it the whole way there. Couldn’t think about it. Didn’t want to remember making the trip a million times before. Didn’t want to think about it being my last time. I think it might be illegal to drive when you’re not breathing. I couldn’t hear the sound of the engine over the sound of my blood racing though my veins. So much pressure in my head and my chest. It was agony.

I knocked on his door. No answer. I knocked again. It seemed an eternity before his door opened. I looked at his feet. I couldn’t look up. I took the key from his hand and shoved the movies and book at him. He said something then, but I couldn’t speak. I turned around and never looked up. I couldn’t bear to look at his face, at his eyes. His eyes are a soft blue and so beautiful. I didn’t feel soft. I felt hard everywhere. I didn’t feel beautiful. I couldn’t look at his eyes.

His voice followed me back to my van. I didn’t turn around and I didn’t answer. I didn’t hear his words. The pressure wouldn’t let anything in or anything out. I closed the door. The engine was still running. I buckled my seat belt. It’s automatic. It has to be. My mind wasn’t functioning. I turned on my lights. I backed away from his door. He was standing there watching me leave. I looked at my dashboard. I looked at my mirrors. I looked at his car as I backed around it. I didn’t look at his face, or his beautiful eyes.

I drove. Home was my only destination. It was over. All I had to do was push the pedal. Push it down, but not too hard. I’d be safe soon. Push the pedal, don’t think.

I heard my phone ring. I heard the song that belonged to him. I thought I had left my phone at home. It wasn’t supposed to be with me. It wasn’t supposed to ring. It wasn’t supposed to be his song. I didn’t answer. I let it ring. I should have shut it off, but I wasn’t thinking.

I parked in front of my house. I ran inside. I put my purse down on the table. I stood there. I don’t know how long. A minute? Ten? A year? The phone rang again. It was his song. It was a knife to the chest. I couldn’t stop myself. I dug it out of my pants’ pocket. I don’t remember putting it there when I got dressed. I flipped it open.

“Don’t call me anymore. Don’t call,” I begged. I snapped it shut. I threw it down on my bed and watched it like one would a poisonous snake. My stomach churned. My throat closed. Then his song played again. His name showed up on the screen with a picture of a heart. The heart was whole. I hadn’t looked at the picture I set for him in a long time. A solid heart. No tears or cracks.

I couldn’t stop myself. I opened my phone and put it to my ear. I said something. I don’t remember what. He said he was sorry. The bile rose. Hope fluttered in my aching chest. God, the agony. He told me he hadn’t slept with my friend. He had lied to hurt me. He was sorry.

My foolish heart. My foolish hope. They fluttered. I ached. I struggled not to puke. The pain was so intense. He asked me if I was still there. I said I was. I could hardly talk. My mouth was dry. It was all behind my eyes. Pressure in my head. Pressure in my chest. He was sorry. He was being a jerk. I heard the words. I wanted to tell him that I had to go. I was going to be sick. I didn’t want him to hear me be sick. My hands were shaking. I couldn’t keep the phone to my ear. I needed to let him go. It was in my brain, but it wouldn’t move to my mouth. He said some more. He asked if I was still on the phone. I mumbled a yes. He said something about being a fool. He told me he loved me. He said he’d talk to me later and hung up the phone. I flipped my phone shut. I plugged in the charger. I walked to the bathroom and threw up.

I’m still shaking. My throat burns. My eyes burn. My chest hurts. My jaw hurts. I’m clenching it. The pain is still there. The hope is still there. I don’t know which is worse. I believe that he didn’t sleep with another. I don’t want to believe. I want to throw my perfume away. I want to take his ring tone off my phone. I want to erase that perfectly whole heart. I don’t want to see his eyes when I close mine. I want to hold him, touch him, taste him. I want to hear him say I love you again. I want it to be over. I never want it to end.

The pain is still with me. I don’t know what to do. He still believes I want another. He aches with it. I want to heal him. He’ll never have faith in me, in us. It hurts so much. We have nothing without trust. But I can’t seem to let go. I’m frozen, trapped by my desire. I long to be with him, even now. I want to let him go, to save him from suffering. I want to hold him forever. My foolish, stupid hope. It hangs on like a blade of grass in a field of mud. The more the sun burns it, the more the frost bites it, the more the feet trod it, the deeper the roots grow. It refuses to die. My love refuses to die.

You Only Miss Me When I'm Gone (Poem)

2007-09-09T23:01:00.000-07:00

You Only Miss Me When I’m Gone

You only miss me
when I’m gone.
You only love me
when I’m leavin’.
I should’ve known it
all along.
It’s always been this way
between us.
You only want
what you can’t have.
Well, you won’t be
havin’ me for long.
‘Cause you only miss me
when I’m gone.
You only miss me
when I’m gone.

I was always there when
you were lonely.
I never argued,
it is true.
But when it was me
who needed someone.
I looked around,
but where was you?
I never asked you for
the whole world.
Just a shoulder
when I cried.
I guess it’s still too much
to ask for,
for you to be there
by my side.

‘Cause you only miss me
when I’m gone.
You only love me
when I’m leavin’.
I should’ve know it
all along.
It’s always been this way
between us.
You only want
what you can’t have.
Well, you won’t be
havin’ me for long.
‘Cause you only miss me
when I’m gone.
You only miss me
when I’m gone.

Nin-laws

2007-09-09T22:00:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I'm a sucker. Just call me Cleopatra, queen of denial. Of course, if things would just go the way I expect them to, I wouldn't be caught off guard and with my defenses down.

Well, I won't leave you in suspense (I know it's killing you). I got a text message from Sexy last night. I didn't actually expect to hear from him for at least two months, if ever again. The fact that he seemed almost friendly really threw me off. I began to wonder if he had been abducted by aliens or something.

Of course, it wasn't alien abduction. What happened was that his mother laid into him. I haven't really spent much time around his mom, but I get the impression that she's not a lady to raise her voice. Sexy has a very deep respect for her. So if she does raise her voice and at the actions of her son, he apparently listens (for a change).

If I have one regret about how my relationship with Sexy has progressed, it would be that I didn't push getting to know his family better. I've met his younger brother a couple of times at the bar. I've met one of his older brothers a couple of times when myself or a family member needed a tow. His mom and dad, I met once for about ten minutes. Still, I have very warm feelings for his family and this just cements it. I'm officially in love with his family.

Okay, train of though derail, what do you call the family members of a guy you're sorta seeing? Would they be nin-laws?

Well, if that's the case, my nin-laws are smart people. I mean, I've been dating Sexy for over two years now, and I've been around his mom for ten minutes of it and she knows better than Sexy does that I'm nuts about him. Smart, smart lady.

Of course, I'm not sure if this really changes anything. She may have read him the riot act about the way he treats me, but that doesn't mean he's changed his mind. I'm pretty sure he still thinks I'm foolin' around. And I haven't quite forgiven him for his accusations. I'm pretty offended about the names he called me and still quite pissed about the purse violation.

I'm really at a loss of where to go from here. Do I let him earn his way back into my good graces? I know I'll forgive him. I can't help myself. I just can't stay angry with anyone, hardly. There's been a couple of people I've stayed mad at, but they really worked at it. And they didn't have Sexy's smile, God help me. Do I end the romance but keep the friendship? Is that even possible?

I could drive myself nuts thinking about it all night. And let me tell you, the emotional whirlpool I'm in right now is just plain crazy. Angry, sad, happy, anxious. One leads right into another so that there's no way to tell when one stops and another begins. I don't know if all of this is worth it. But how do you just walk away?

I almost wish he would've taken a couple of months to contact me, instead of right away. I would've had time to think things through a little better. Maybe he would've too. Maybe our emotions would've settled down enough by that time to pick a course of action. I hate this feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop. I mean, we've talked to each other briefly the last couple of nights, but there's been no mention of what happened or any talk of feelings or such. No, I love you or sorry or miss you. It's been pretty casual, which belies the intensity I know we are both feeling right now. It's like we're both waiting for something. I'm just not sure what that something is. I know it's not an apology. I don't have a reason to apologize and he's not going to give one. Even if he did, I can't say it would help with the way I'm feeling. It just seems like this thing was so monumental and something monumental should come from it, not just casual talk. It seems wrong.

I guess the first thing I should do is ask myself where I want to go from here. It seems like such an easy question. Well, it is. It's the answer that's so hard. Still, the journey of a lifetime begins with a single step, doesn't it? I wonder though, is there a way to non-divorce the boy toy but keep the nin-laws? They're so cool! Anyone who can make Sexy see even a little bit of reason is a person to know. I am so in awe.

End of an Era

2007-09-07T22:00:00.000-07:00

I guess all's fair when love is war. It doesn't feel very fair though. It doesn't seem fair that I should suffer any for the mistakes of others. I don't believe it's fair that I should lose something that meant so much to me after finally finding it after all this time. But I guess I shouldn't complain. I got so much good out of it, even though I had to wade through so much shit to find it.

I guess you've figured out by now that Sexy and I are no longer an item, on a permanent basis this time. I know I've sang this tune before, but I don't think there's any getting around it anymore. I've been waiting all this time for a sign to show me which way to go, and I finally got it. The line has been crossed. There's no going back.

It seems that there's more to my earlier story from before. After I wrote my last Brain Blister blog, I didn't hear from Sexy again until Thursday night after class, which was a whole week from the previous incident. Thursday night, however, I made the mistake of chasing him down. See, I had ordered a hardback copy of Memory of Running for him since his paperback copy was about to fall apart. It arrived in the mail Thursday morning and I couldn't wait to give it to him. Basically, I just couldn't wait to see him again. So, after class Thursday night, I went to the bar he shoots pool at. He was there of course, still claiming to feel anger over the prior incident. I just wanted to touch him.

After the bar closed, he invited me back to his place. I went. I'm a fool like that. When he invited me to stay the night, I did. Foolish again. I crawled under the covers and layed next to him. That's all I did. I just wanted to be near him. But he started in about not trusting me and it turned into a big fight.

I should have left right then and there, but I couldn't. I wanted so badly to be near him, to make him understand how much I love him, to make him see the truth. So I stayed. I went to sleep beside him and I loved it, even though I was hurting.

When he woke me up in the morning, things were still pretty tense. We dressed and went about our business in silence. As I walked out the front door with him, I waited expectantly for a kiss. It's our ritual. But no kiss was forthcoming this time. Instead, he asked me about the men's names I have in the addressbook in my phone.

I suppose I should have told him straight off that he was asking me about my student loan consultant and the guy who's been helping me get my child support straightened out. I should have explained that they weren't love interests or anything. But I was so stunned. I was angry. I was confused. He had taken my phone from my purse and checked up on me. I felt......violated. Part of me held my silence so he could suffer like he had just made me suffer. Part of me just realized that the truth didn't matter. He'd never believe it coming from my lips. He had made up his mind before he even looked through my phone. I knew right then that it was over, beyond over. There was no going back from that point.

I've spent most of my day in a state of shock. I did hear from him shortly after I arrived back home. He sent a text message asking if he had surprized me. I told him that I just didn't know whether to laugh at him or scream at him. It was true. In some ways it is funny. He's been getting so bent out of shape over nothing. No one who knows me has any doubt that I'm nuts about the guy. Besides that, there's just no room in my life for another guy right now. I barely have time to see Sexy. But jealousy and fear make you do crazy things. I know that's why he raided my purse.

If I could keep anything the way it is right now, it would be the feeling of shock. When you're in shock, you don't think. I know this, because when I do think about it, I feel so angry. So very angry. I'm angry because the truth was there right in front of his eyes. All he had to do was listen to me. Really listen to me. All he had to do was come into my world and see for himself. I've forgiven every emotional injury he has done me. I've followed him around like a lovesick puppy. I've sacrificed so many important things just to spend time with him. And the little things, all those little things that speak volumes. Every back rub I've given him, the quilt I started sewing for him, the cds of songs I made for him, the movies I bought him, the support I've provided through the past two years. It says it all right there. If that isn't enough, even my family knows how much I love him. All he had to do was ask. They could tell him how much I talk about him, how I glow after being with him, how I make excuses for him and lie to myself just so I can be with him. There isn't anyone who talks to me who doesn't know that I've given my heart to him and only him. No one doubts it, no one but Sexy.

I know in time I'll forgive him. It's what I do best. I know that I'll wonder, possibly forever, if there was something I could've done or said to prove my love to him. I also know that it's a question that has no answer. Even if it did, the answer no longer matters. You see, I just can't get over the fact that he would let it end this way. I guess, in my mind, I know that if he had loved me half as much as I love him, then he would've given me a chance. A real chance. I don't doubt that he loves me in his own way. I don't doubt that I've gotten under his skin. But all of that is pointless now. He obviously didn't care enough about me to take the risk.

I guess I should get some sleep now. Tomorrow will be a busy day for me. I have things to sort through and get rid of. I have a slate to wipe clean. Tonight, however, I'm going to crawl into the shirt I took of his, snuggle up to the pillow scented with his cologne, and forget, for a moment, that it's over. Tomorrow may be the begining of a new life for me, but tonight is the end of an era and I only wish to hold on to it for a moment more. What can I say? I'm a fool like that.

Huh?

2007-09-05T00:12:00.000-07:00

I couldn't sleep tonight. This is very unusual behavior for me. Usually, I can hit the lightswitch and be in bed asleep before the lights go out. That is, unless I have too much going through my brain.

This is one of those nights that my mind won't shut off. I've been thinking a lot about Sexy and I, my new home that I'm working on and all that I need to make it right, about going back to court with my ex to change custody, and about school. There's more thoughts rolling around my noggin like a bowl full of marbles, but those are the major ones. And believe me, it's enough.

Mainly, I'm trying to figure out a way to sort it all out and deal with it. There's a lot going on right now and I suck at multi-tasking. You'd think I'd learn after having three kids in one year, but some people just don't have that skill. I don't think it's one that can be learned either. Still, if there's a way, I'm going to find it.

I've been thinking about making a self-hypnosis cd to play at night while I sleep (if I can sleep). I've heard somewhere that if you're trying to learn a foreign language, then you'll learn it faster if you play a recording of it while you sleep. I'm wondering if you can do the same to learn how to break bad habits. It's worth a shot anyways. My other option is to hire a personal assistant and I don't have that kinda money.

Anyway, I know this is totally random, but that's about how I feel tonight. Strangely enough, I think I can go to sleep now. So, goodnight all. May the force be with you.

Brain Blisters (Part 3)

2007-09-02T19:27:00.000-07:00

The two previous blogs were to set the stage for the story I'm about to tell. But before I start, I should give you a little more background information.

1) a couple of breakups before the latest event, Sexy outright told me that he wanted the picket fence and golden bands again, just not with me. He's reason for this being that I'm "too young" to be able to make that kind of commitment to him and he'd be the one left picking up the pieces when it failed. I told him I'd see him the next day, and I did.

2) I've proposed to Sexy on numerous occasions. Believe me, it was a lot harder than you could possibly imagine. Kudos to you men who do it and do it well. I do know that I would probably like to get married again, someday. I don't think I want to do it anytime in the next couple of years. I want to spend the rest of my life with Sexy, but part of the reason I asked was because I knew he'd say no. Of course, if he said yes, I would have celebrated by hanging naked from his chandelier. I'm afraid of weddings, not of committing myself to him. I'm also very okay with our current situation of not living with each other. Either way, it's good by me. I won't love him any more or less for a piece of paper. My commitment to him is already made in my heart and my mind. Honestly, weddings scare me. Really, really scare me. But I'd do it for him.

3) Before the event in question, Sexy had broke up with me again. It's the same song. He doesn't want to deal with us. I'm too young, yadda yadda. He doesn't want to get hurt again, I'm too young. He doesn't want to talk about it, I'm too young. You get the point. I left, promising I would be back, and I was back. Only, the next time he saw me, I didn't stay long, kiss him, or act like anything more than a friend. There was no reconciliation. There really never is. I couldn't tell you at any point in time if we're official or not. That's why I refer to him as my boy toy or my sexy. Calling him my boyfriend just feels like a lie.

So, Tuesday night I went to his place after class for a couple of minutes. I sat on his couch with him and watched tv for a moment and then left. I didn't hear from him again until Thursday night. Now, Thursday night, I went with an old high school friend to a bar for a drink, then to Country Kitchen for food. We are now going to the same college and we bump into each other frequently. This is not a friendship with the potential of more. First of all, I have no romantic feelings for this guy. I'm not physically or mentally attracted to him. Second of all, he's slept with one of my girlfriends which puts him in the "Yuck!" category automatically. However, I didn't quite feel like going home and moping around until I finally heard from Sexy. I also have few friends I can go out with now. I'm the only one who is divorced and not working. So, I took the opportunity to get out of the house.

Now, my friend (Kenny for the sake of discussion) and I were sitting at Country Kitchen at 1 in the morning when Sexy finally called. I had left my van at the bar and drove Kenny's car there. I immediately told Sexy where I was and who I was with, and the shit hit the fan. According to Sexy, I was there with Kenny to get laid. I was cheating on Sexy. I was doing exactly what he said I was going to do. I'm getting kind of mad at this point, so I take the call outside. He asks me if it's over between us. I said I didn't want it to be, but it depended on him. He's the one that keeps breaking up with me, after all. He, of course, said it depended on me. He asks what it is I want. I tell him that I want to be with him. He asks if I want to marry him. I say that I do want that. He asks me why I'm out with another guy then. I explain that Kenny is just a friend, and Sexy proceeds to call me a liar. I explain that if I had anything to hide, I wouldn't have answered the phone when he called. I can't be cheating on him when he broke up with me. Even if he hadn't, I wasn't doing anything wrong. I was just having a meal with a friend.

Now things are getting really fired up. At one point, I had given the phone to Kenny so Sexy could talk to him. Apparently, Sexy asks Kenny if he's fucking me. What I hear Kenny say is that he's just out drinking and trying to have a good time. What Sexy hears Kenny say is, "Yeah, I'm trying to." Apparently, I am now responsible for every man who wants to have sex with me. I'm leading them on or something. I'm getting a headache by this point. I realize that it's just jealousy talking, but I'm trying my best to explain that there is no reason to be jealous. Poor Kenny, all he heard me talk about was Sexy. He had to know that there was no way to get into my pants. I left no room for doubt about it. I love my Sexy. I don't want anyone else but him. Doing something with another man would just feel hollow and empty. I wouldn't get any enjoyment from it, so what's the point?

End result, I end up walking back to my van (which is totally across town). I didn't have to. Kenny offered me a ride, but I couldn't do it. I was angry with Sexy and didn't feel like being nice to any male at the moment. And despite the fury filling me, it was a very nice walk. I had some comfortable shoes, so my feet didn't hurt and I'm used to walking a lot. I spent a lot of that time letting my heart and my head wage war with each other. While I understand his reasons for being upset, I think he was totally out of line. Like I explained to him, if I was doing something wrong, I wouldn't broadcast it. I wouldn't have told him where I was and who I was with. If I was going to lie about sleeping with Kenny, I would have lied about the whole thing. It's not like he would've known if I hadn't told him. Of course, he doesn't see it that way.

By the time I made it back home, I was calmer. I really don't stay angry very long. All I wanted at that point was to kiss and make up. He's my best friend, after all. Still, I can't help but wonder about what it was all about. My mind keeps wondering if Sexy picked a fight with me so he could break up with me without having a guilty conscience. Of course, he had already broken up with me, but it happens so often that I think that he doesn't even know if we're together or not.

He sent me a message on Friday morning telling me that he was returning my key. I told him to keep it. I haven't heard from him since. He kept the key, at least, so far. It's now Sunday night, and I miss him so much. I'm sure that there are those of you who are shaking your heads right now. I know what it looks like. Believe me. I've been in situations like this before. I've made excuses for every guy I've ever dated as to why they treat me the way they do. I realize he treats me poorly at times. Still, the times that something of this nature happen are very rare with Sexy. Mostly, he's just trying to keep the walls up. They're the only stable things in his life. I'm not very helpful in that respect. I'm hell on walls.

Sigh, I just don't know what to do. There's so much more here than what I've said, so much that can't be expressed. He really is my best friend. We fit together like two puzzle pieces. He's so tender and caring and considerate most of the time and it would be hypocritical of me to expect him to be perfect all of the time. At the same time, I don't want to be the fool either. It's just so hard to imagine a life without him. And I definately can't imagine another in his place. I wish I had the answer to this problem. I wish I knew what it is I could do or say to make him understand that he has nothing to fear with me. I wish I knew for sure what it is he wanted.

Well, this about finishes it for now. Hopefully, I'll have more to say on the matter later. If he and I have to end, I don't want it to be this way. This way hurts too much.

I guess I'd better go now. I have some work to finish before bed. No rest for the wicked, as I always say.

Brain Blisters (Part 2)

2007-09-01T13:36:00.000-07:00

Today is a new day. For some reason, it feels just like yesterday. Well, maybe not quite like yesterday. Actually, I'm a little more stressed today. The kids haven't quite gotten into the groove of being with me yet. They're still running around like a bunch of wild Indians. Destruction count for today is : 3 pair of "big boy" pants, one door, one whole roll of tape, two tampons (don't ask), one painting, 4 movies (scratched beyond repair, two of them brand new), and a partridge in a pair tree. In the events category, one tried to flush himself down the toilet, one peed in a small cooler, one just drove me nuts with questions. I had to make them lay down for a while so I could calm myself down. It's like half-time. I get to stretch, catch a meal, then get myself hunkered down for the second half. Despite the aggravation, it's not the destruction that gets me so worked up. It's the fact that toddlers whine when they're tired. I have three of them going postal and I'm to the point of joining them since I can't beat them. Wow, that last part of the sentence could be taken so many ways.

Anyway, I believe we left off last with my overall confused state concerning Sexy. Now that I've explained how I feel, let me explain why I feel that way.

As I've mentioned once or twice before, Sexy and I are constantly teetering back and forth, which only adds to our confusion. Even the break-ups themselves are complicated. When Sexy breaks up with me, he says things like, "I think we should move on. I think it would be best for both of us." I always ask him what it is that he wants, but he never gives me an answer. He doesn't say that he wants it to end. He says that he thinks it's for the best or something. This tells me that he doesn't want it to end. After all, I give him ample opportunity to tell me that he wants it that way, but he doesn't. He just goes silent. And believe me when I say that I make it easy for him to tell me if that was what he wanted. He knows that I wouldn't make a scene or argue if he stated it flat out. If I knew that it was what he truly wanted, then there would be nothing to fight about. It would be over, without a doubt. But he always leaves this wiggle room for argument and I have to believe it's for a reason. It's the reason that I'm not sure about.

Now, Sexy has a lot of demons to conquer before he could begin to think of picket fences again. For that matter, so do I. Still, I know without a doubt that he's the one I want to spend the rest of my life with. He, however, doesn't think that I could possibly know what it is that I want. That's one of the demons he has to face, to trust that a woman really knows what it is that she wants. He's afraid that because I'm ten years younger than him that I'm too immature to be able to make that kind of decision. He's afraid that the age difference between us is too grand to overcome. He thinks that in a few years I'll decide that I want something different and just pick up and leave him. Of course, I have no way to prove to him my feelings other than hanging around, which is difficult when he keeps breaking up with me.

I've tried to show him every way that I know how that I'm certain of my feeling for him as I am that the sun will rise tomorrow. I've tried to get him to interact with my family, the people who know me. My mom knows better than anyone how much I love him. My dad knows that I'm smitten beyond redemption. They know how I was through all my other relationships and how I behave so differently with Sexy because he's not like the ones before him. They also know how I am with the people I love, that I support them and defend them through thick and thin and that I would never abandon them. It's the way I was raised. My whole family is close and very loving. I want to share this with Sexy so bad. I want him to see what love and family mean to me and what it means for me to give him my love and make him my family. Of course, he's so afraid of becoming close to people and then losing them that he avoids my family. Not to mention that he's ashamed of the way he's treated me in the past and doesn't want to face the scorn of my mother. She doesn't have any hard feelings towards him, however. Despite having full knowledge of all the events in our relationship, she believes that Sexy and I have a genuine shot at something most people only dream of. This is coming from the same woman that on my wedding day told me that my husband and I would never make it. She has a mother's intuition. She knows her children well and knows what will and what will not work for them. Despite the ups and downs, Sexy is the only man I've had in my life that has received my mother's approval. Only, he's skating on thin ice because he avoids my family so much.

Trying to explain all of this to him is near impossible. He has the whisperings from others and his own doubts to contend with, and it's just hard to believe in something that can't be proved, despite how much you might want to believe it. Believing in love is a lot like believing in God. When you believe in God, you see signs of His existance everywhere. When you don't believe in Him, or know whether to believe in Him, it's hard to find definate proof that He exists. Same for Love. You just have to decide to have faith. It's so hard to have faith, especially when you've been burned by it before, but you can't have it if you don't put your faith in it.

The problem is that Sexy has lost faith in everything. He's lost faith in love, in God, and in himself. He doesn't see the things that I see. He can't when he doesn't believe it exists. He doesn't see the wonderful side of him that I love so much. He doesn't see the love in my eyes when I look at him. He doesn't believe that love is in store for him or that he is worthy of it. I could tell him he's wrong until I ran out of breath, but it doesn't matter until he starts seeing it for himself. I just don't know when or if that will ever be.

Well, the munchkins are stirring, so I'd best take my leave. Perhaps I'll be on later to continue. Perhaps not. If not, I want to tell everyone that still keeps up with me that I appreciate it. And Ashlee - I know I'm not one who has a right to offer any advise, so I won't. Good luck on your current situation. Misery does love company, lol.

Tell Me (Poem)

2007-09-01T00:35:00.000-07:00

Tell Me

I’ve never felt the sorrow,
that now has claimed my heart.
And I know every tomorrow,
I’ll recall each guilty part
of every word we ever said in anger
that turned you, from a lover, to a stranger.
I’ve never felt such anguish.
I don’t know if I’ll survive.
I know that I no longer
can keep this flame alive.
And so, I know that you will have to go.
But before you do, there’s something I must know.

Tell me that this pain will go away.
Tell me the sun will shine another day.
Tell me that this anguish soon will end.
Tell me that this broken heart will mend.
Tell me, though this sorrow cuts me deep,
that someday I’ll no longer need to weep.
Tell me the sun will shine another day.
Tell me that this pain will go away.

You’ve long since been away now,
but I still cry these tears.
I cannot figure out how
I can erase so many years
of a life that once brought smiles to my face.
When was it that our love turned far from grace?

I cannot seem to forget
what some would say is past.
I lay sleepless with my regrets
‘til the sun comes up at last.
But, those memories don’t lay down with the moon,
and another cloudy day will follow soon.

Tell me that this pain will go away.
Tell me the sun will shine another day.
Tell me that this anguish soon will end.
Tell me that this broken heart will mend.
Tell me, though this sorrow cuts me deep,
that someday I’ll no longer need to weep.
Tell me the sun will shine another day.
Tell me that this pain will go away.

World Of Wrong (Poem)

2007-09-01T00:33:00.000-07:00

World Of Wrong

A ghost of who I used to be.
A whisper, now, of what was me.
Live no more, but still exist.
Checking minutes off a list.
The heart still beats, that once loved you.
A curiosity, it’s true.
The sun still shines promise at dawn,
but my hope has died. Yet, I go on
in this world of wrong.

A shell of who I used to be.
A living host for agony.
Tears are wept, but eyes are dry
like currents under ocean tide.
The heart still aches, that once held joy.
The smile I give, an empty ploy.
The soul still yearns for what is gone.
I cannot find where I belong
in this world of wrong.

Brain Blisters

2007-08-31T23:11:00.000-07:00

It's 1 a.m. and I'm still waiting for the kiddies to fall asleep. It's been a long day. I didn't have the kids all day. It's one of my exchange days with my ex, so I don't get my kids until evening, but they always come back grumpy, yet wired. It's always crazy in my house on exchange night.

I figured that while I waited on them to drift into dreamland, I would use that time to post another blog. Of course, I have a million other things to do, but I really needed to download. When I get too much going on in my head, I lose track of what I'm supposed to be doing and end up frustrated and easily agitated. This does not bode well when you add on three terribly tired toddlers.

So, here's the score. I'm steering my brain away from the frustration before me and dealing with the brain blisters that have been rubbing me the wrong way before tonight.

For those who have been keeping up with my blog, you know that Sexy and I broke up, only we were back together (sorta) the next night. Since then, Sexy broke up with me again. Like I said, this is a pretty normal occurrence with us. I decided, however, to give him a little space this time. In part, this was because I knew that the way our relationship was going was leaving him with some confused feelings. I know the past two years have been difficult for him. He's been mending from his last serious relationship and at times I bear a striking resemblance to his ex (not physically, just in deeds). Part of the reason I decided to give him space though, was because I was becoming confused about his feelings for me. When you ride an emotional roller coaster with someone, like I have been with Sexy, there's so much room for doubt.

I wasn't planning on explaining my confusion, but I don't think I can explain everything else without giving the details. You see, for two years I have been running to him. When he called, I ran. I didn't hesitate. I wanted to be there with him more than anything. Despite my fears and the constant ups and downs, there was a deep knowledge within me that if such a thing as soul mates existed, then he was mine. I didn't come to this lightly. Lord knows, I tried to fight it. It was the wrong time. It wasn't in my game plan. I had just left my husband, I was trying to get back into school and get my life straight, and I knew that I needed some time away from men, to be frank. I needed to strike out on my own and be a success before I could commit myself to someone else again. But love doesn't wait for the right time. Love comes when love is ready. It makes the time right, not the other way around. And this freak coincidence brings Sexy into my life. I needed him, despite my strong desire not to need anyone. He needed me, though he tries so hard not to. This was the foundation for it all. Two people who find each other shortly after losing everything, dreams as well as property. We were both trying to conquer life all over again on our own terms. But no one can do it alone. It's hard to admit it, even now. Human beings are just not cut out to lead a solitary life. That's why it takes two people to create a new life.

So here I am, trying so hard to be a role model my children can be proud of, trying to show them that it's okay to fight for the right to be respected. I certainly found no respect from my ex husband. And it was knowing that my children were likely to learn from this relationship and more than likely copy it that made me change it. I knew that I wanted my children to know how to respect their partner and be respected in return. This is where my fears and confusion come into play.

Deep within my heart, I feel that Sexy wants the same thing I want. Deep withing my heart, I know that he feels the same connection that I feel. I don't know how to explain it in any words that would do it justice. When I am with him, when he smiles at me, I am at peace. It's the only true peace I've known in my life. When I am away from him, I hunger. Not just for his touch, but for the sound of his voice, the scent of his cologne, the feel of his arms, the taste of his lips. I crave that peace that I have never known anywhere else. I long for that feeling of rightness and perfection that I washes over me while in his presence. And deep within my heart, I believe it is the same for him.

I just wish my heart and my mind said the same thing. While my heart says that we're made for each other, my mind is telling me that this relationship is no different from the ones that preceded it. It says that I'm just a tool for Sexy, a space filler. It says that if he wanted things to work between us then he'd give us a chance and stop breaking up with me every other week on average. Oh, my wicked, wicked mind. That devil perched upon my shoulder. It tells me that my heart lies and wages a war with it so devastating that I know longer know what the truth is. Am I a fool to stay or a fool to go?

I've been dealing with this conflict for quite some time. I've been taking apart every aspect of my relationship with Sexy and studying it with a microscope. Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be an answer there. Some of the things that Sexy does confirms the message of my heart and others of my mind. My greatest fear and my greatest hope is that there will be no answers. I'm afraid to know the truth and afraid not to.

So this is my mental and emotional stance. Each has its moments to tip the scale, based largely on what Sexy says and does. Sometimes my heart cries out to challenge the walls he has built, and sometimes my mind says that I'm being played for a fool. It's utterly confusing and is taking quite a toll on me. I'm so afraid of making the wrong decision that I fail to act and I despise myself for being so afraid. Still, I know that if there is a way for us and I walk away from it because it's not easy enough for me I will have lost one of the most precious things I could ever have in my life. I also know that finding out that I mean nothing to him after giving so much of myself to him would be equally devastating. So I wait. I wait for a sign, for a truth. I wait, and I hunger, and I hold on to that roller coaster for dear life, hoping it won't throw me.

I think the kiddies are asleep now. I suppose I should get on with getting on. I have a never-ending pile of laundry to tackle and a mass of papers to go through and file. I know that life doesn't pause so you can collect yourself, but it sure would be nice on occasion.

This entry hasn't begun to explain everything, but it will have to do for tonight. With any luck, I will have an opportunity to explain further another time. Honestly, I sometime feel as though I will explode if I don't get it out, so I imagine that it won't be long before the whole sorted story gets published. Maybe by writing, I will find an answer. Or maybe, by unloading my anguish, I will find the peace and strength to go on. Who knows? Maybe someone who reads this knows my Sexy and will tell him how much he means to me. Stranger things have happened.

Reformed Addict

2007-08-25T01:53:00.000-07:00

I'm giving up my Mt. Dew habit. Not because I had wanted to and was looking out for my figure or anything. I just ran out and got too sidetracked to pick up any more. It's been two or three days without now. Well, I had one on Wednesday evening, but none since then. It was much harder than I thought it would be. I'm still not even sure if I will continue with this since it was accidental, but I like the idea of telling people that I'm a reformed Dew drinker. I can be the President of the DDA (Dew Drinkers Anonymous).

Of course, this is only one of my many bad habits. I'll probably just substitute it with another bad habit. Maybe I'll start biting my nails or something. Maybe I'll learn to whistle through my nose so I can annoy people in the waiting room of the doctor's office. I'm worried now that I'll either balloon up or waste away as it was the major part of my calorie intake each day. Either my body will go into shock and hang on to every calorie I do send it, or I'll disolve in the next rainfall. I guess I'll have to wait and see.

Did you know that rootbeer causes little to no tooth decay? My dentist told me that. Just thought I'd share since I was on the subject of pop. It's weird how people have all sorts of senseless knowledge in their heads. I would say that I'm switching to rootbeer, but I really don't like it. I don't like ice cream much either, but I love rootbeer floats. Does that make any sense?

Okay, this was totally random, but I had to unload. I've been having one of those "God in a frilly apron" days. You know, the kind of day in which all of that ridiculous bull hockey circulates inside my brain with no means relief. Maybe it's the lack of Mt. Dew talking.

Complete

2007-08-20T22:40:00.000-07:00

There's these moments in time, when the whole world seems surreal, when the sky is grey but seems unnaturally bright, that I sit and wonder if I can hear the earth breathing. The wind will be blowing, usually with the scent of rain not yet shed upon it. The leaves will dance, each one seeming so eerily sharp so that I could distinguish them all at a glance. The crickets have stopped chirping. The dogs have stopped barking. It's just me, my heartbeat, and the wind blowing in like ocean tide.

It's times like these that I feel so connected to the earth but so alienated from the world. The scents, the sights, the feel of the humidity in the air, I am a part of it and it is a part of me. There is no movement but the leaves tumbling like gypsies in the breeze and my blood through my veins. There is only me in the whole vastness of the universe, only me left to ponder in the perfection of the moment.

Out of nowhere, I siren blares, a child laughs, a car revs its motor. The perfection is broken, its mirror-like fragments laying in ruins around my feet. I turn around to walk in my front door. Inside is chaos, but not the chaos that disturbed me before. Inside, my children run to greet me, clinging noisely to my legs. Inside, the lights are much dimmer, the rain doesn't cling to the air. Inside is warmth that blends the edges, fades the sharpness. Inside is a new perfection, one that makes me.......complete.

Nadda

2007-08-18T20:28:00.000-07:00

I've finally managed to catch a few moments to myself. This is a bigger challenge than one could possibly know. I finished my test in my online class, I still have some work to do in my Economics class, and I have a disaster of a house to clean yet, but I decided a few moments of "my time" could be beneficial. It's been a crazy couple of days, after all.

I'm pleased to report that the chitlins have had their procedures done. The battle with my ex over this was more complicated, yet strangely easier, than I expected. I did return the kids to him late Wednesday night, but he sent them back Thursday night so that I could (finally) get this done. The whole thing went very well and the boys were back to their ornery selves that very day. Of course, the ex didn't even bother to call and check to see if they did okay. They could have had a bad reaction to the anesthesia and died and he wouldn't even know the difference. Jerk.

Other than the daily grind, nothing much has been going on. I'm still working on my new abode, though a bit slower than when I started. I'm hoping that by the middle of next week, I'll have the necessary tools and equipment to pick up the pace. I'm so ready to get back into it. I hate the feeling of being stagnant. I'm ready for some direction. Well, other than the circles I've been moving in.

Seems like a lot of my life moves in circles. Dating, school, work around the house, it's all moving forward and yet nowhere. I suppose that the blame for this can be cast solely at my feet. I could have picked a different route to take. Still, it would be nice to have an easy moment of forward movement on the route I'm on from time to time. I do like my life the way it is, for the most part. I wouldn't want to be anywhere other than where I'm at. I like being a mother , a student, and yes, even a girlfriend to the impossibly stubborn Sexy. The only thing that would make life nicer would be if my ex would grow some grey matter and a little humanity, responsibility, and compassion with it, and if I could instantaneously acquire my degrees and a permanent home in which to raise three perfectly balanced babies and dawdle with my numerous hobbies. Don't ask for much, do I?

Here's a question: How come no one else seems to be continuing on with their journals? Am I the only one who is still writing? I think I'm the only one who is required to take Comp II who hasn't signed up for it this session, so I think it's odd that I'm the only one who appears to be writing still. I wonder if anyone even checks on the journals anymore. Maybe I'm just talking to myself. Oh well, it's not like it's the first time, or will be the last. I would like to see more from others though. It would be nice to see how everyone is doing.

Well, "me time" is about done. I do have all that work to finish (sigh). Perhaps I'll write again later tonight when I've got the biggest portion of it taken care of. Hey, if you're going to ramble aimlessly to yourself, you might as well go for the gold, right?

Purge (Poetry)

2007-08-18T18:46:00.000-07:00

Purge

The movie ticket from our first date,
the photo of you with a funny face,
the bottle of perfume that turned your head,
the outfit I bought to wear to your bed,
some letters I wrote, but never sent,
a t-shirt of yours I once went home in,
a CD of songs that we had dance to,
I’m trying to purge my life of you.

I wish I could say
that these feelings would go away
as fast as those things went up in flames.
As the smoke starts to rise,
bitter teardrops fill my eyes.
There’s no going back, I realize.
All that there is left to do
is purge my life of you.

Your phone number and your ring tone,
the heart with our names on my mirror at home,
the present you bought me last Valentine’s too,
I’m trying to purge my life of you.

I wish I could say
that the memories would go away
as fast as those things were erased.
But, it seems I always find
one more thing that you left behind.
I never can get you off my mind.
What I cannot seem to do
is purge my life of you.

The Memory Of Running

2007-08-18T18:37:00.000-07:00

Written August 15, 2007

I just finished this book called The Memory of Running by Ron McLarty. I borrowed it from Sexy the other night, ya know, the night right after our breakup. I had been meaning to borrow it for quite some time. He’s owned this book for about a year and has read it at least 8 or 9 times now. I’m betting on it being more than that. I knew that if he could read it that many times and still find it fascinating, then I should definitely read it.

It made me very angry. Not the book itself, mind you. I’m actually mad at Sexy for loaning it to me. I had this very strong urge to knock him senseless with the book once I finished it. Since it is a paperback book, this could be a long process. I may have to go out and buy the hardback version in order to save myself time and energy. He has a very hard head, after all.

That being said, I actually loved the book a lot. I’m going to go out and buy several copies to give out to friends. I’m also going to buy a teddy bear to go with each book because after you finish reading it, you just want to hold something and cry. I’m also going to buy a couple of copies for myself. One copy will be for me to read over and over. I can see why Sexy reads it so much. One copy will be to treasure.

I could spend quite some time trying to explain the book, but I’d never come close. It’s one of those simple plots that is so deep that you can’t even begin to explain it in conversation. Since I could never do it justice, I would have to say that you need to read the book if you’re curious. I will say that the main character is one that everyone can relate to in some way, shape, or form.

I suppose that’s what made me so angry. I can tell that Sexy sees a mirror image of himself in the main character and it makes me so furious. There’s no way in the world that I would be able to convince him that he’s nothing like the main character. It’s the thick skull. Nothing penetrates it. I know that he feels that he’s in much of the same position in life and I can understand it. However, they are not the exact same at all. First of all, Sexy is not 200 lbs overweight. Actually, he’s perfect. Not too big, not too small, muscled but not disgustingly so. Perfect. Second of all, he’s not some alcoholic in a dead-end job. He has an excellent job with so much potential. He, himself, has endless potential. He’s smart, funny, can adapt, is so loving, and, if I don’t mind saying so (and I don’t), he has a wonderful girlfriend who adores him.

The fact that most infuriates me about what Sexy sees in this book is the fact that he feels he’s lost everything, just like the main character. I suppose I should be more tolerant about it. Everyone feels like they’ve hit rock bottom from time to time. Still, Sexy has so much that he just takes for granted. He has family that loves him. He could have more family to love him as well. He has friends who think the world of him. He has the respect of his co-workers, he has a chance to move past all of his problems if he would just stop running from them long enough and face them. Not everyone is that lucky. It makes me so mad. I’d give almost anything to be that lucky.

I don’t imagine that I’ll beat him up with a novel in the end. It’s not fair to the book. The book really is a good one after all. I’m going to re-read the copy Sexy loaned me before returning it. And if he asks me what I thought of it, I’ll just tell him that he doesn’t want me to talk about it. He’s not big into mushy discussions, so I don’t think he’ll try to push the issue. Right now, I have to wait for my mom to read it. I told her how wonderful it was and she wants to read it, but she’s in the middle of another book at the moment. I may have to read it again before she gets the chance. For some reason, I can barely resist picking it up again. It calls to me. Maybe because, despite what Sexy believes, we’re not that different, he and I. I can see myself in the main character too. I just don’t use that as an excuse to give up on all the good things life has to offer. I make myself remember running.

The Ultimate Cure

2007-08-18T18:32:00.000-07:00

Written August 14, 2007

I’m supposed to be doing my homework right now, but I can’t seem to get my head in the game tonight. There’s just too much going on in the noggin right now to concentrate on something that seems so trivial. Not that homework is trivial. Homework is actually a big deal, since a good grade is crucial to my degree which is crucial to my future. However, looking at what I will have to deal with tomorrow makes it difficult to concentrate on what I must do now in order to make my distant future better.

Tomorrow, I do battle with my ex. My stomach gets queasy thinking about it. I have to call him up and tell him that I’m not returning the kids at the court appointed time. It’s going to be WWIII. If I could avoid talking to him at all, it would definitely be the route I would take. However, it just doesn’t work like that. Not for me anyway.

Here’s the situation: my twin sons need dental surgery. It’s sad to say that at three years of age, their teeth need that kind of attention, but they only receive the care they need in that department half of the time (the half that I have custody). Since they are so young, they have to be taken to the hospital and knocked out. Unfortunately, the only days that their dentist schedules those procedures is on Friday mornings, which is my ex’s custody period.

You would think that my ex would be helpful when it comes to getting them the medical care they need. After all, I carry the insurance on them. He has no out of pocket expense for any of their medical needs, other than over the counter medicines that he would administer during his custody period. I make all the appointments, make sure they arrive at said appointments, and take care of all prescriptions. The only requirement he has it to communicate with me about it.

The communication part is where we have the problem. I’ve tried talking to him numerous times about getting this done in the past year. He won’t talk to me at all. I’ve had the kids’ dentist talk to him about why they need this done. He refuses to cooperate. Simply put, he refuses to let this happen simply because I want this done. The part that really burns me up though is the fact that my hands are tied. I have to do something illegal in order to get my kids taken care of.

I’ve searched for every possible route to get this taken care of without bending or breaking rules. It’s not to save my ex any aggravation, but for the sake of my kids. I have no desire to use them as a weapon in the post-divorce war games that my ex and I play. I’m not even a willing participant in the war games, truth be told. I just wish that the feeling was mutual. It makes me physically ill to have to battle with someone this way. Granted, all the warm feelings that I once felt for this man are like a fart in the wind. Still, I did love him once upon a time. I thought that he had loved me too, in his own warped little way. But regardless of us, I had hoped that he cared enough for the kids not to do this to them. And it’s intentional, no doubt about it. He told the dentist that he didn’t want it done because I did. That’s his only excuse. I want my kids mended, so he fights me on it.

I can’t begin to explain the emotional toll this has taken on me, mainly because it is so unnecessary. The worst part is that it’s not going to be over tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll keep the kids instead of sending them back so that they can get their cavities filled on Friday morning. Tomorrow, I’ll call him and let him know what I’m doing because it is required. Tomorrow, he’ll call me up, I’ll have to answer, and he’ll call me names and threaten me. I imagine that I’ll be served papers for contempt of court in less than two weeks. I am the one breaking a court order, after all. The judge will decide that I was within my rights to do this, no doubt about it. I made sure that those rights were granted to me in the divorce documents. Still, it’s one more unnecessary fight, one more thing that causes the gap to widen, one more thing he’ll hold against me. It means that I’ll have to fight that much harder the next time to get something done.

I suppose, in context, this is why I should be doing my homework right now. A degree means a better job. A better job means a firmer foundation for raising my kids and more money for the court costs. I imagine that I’ll be seeing the inside of the courthouse quite a bit in the upcoming years. Of course, knowing this does nothing to help with my concentration. I wonder if they make a pill to cure ex husbands?

Circles

2007-08-13T20:55:00.000-07:00

Well, Sexy broke up with me again. Before anyone gets overly concerned about this, I should point out that we do this on a regular basis. For a while, we were breaking up every other week, sometimes more than that. It never lasts very long. In fact, I was back over at his place the next night.

Actually, it's almost become a game of sorts. He'll turn to me and say, "This isn't going to work out between us. We're at different points in our lives. You're just going to get bored with me and leave." I'll just turn to him, smile, and say, "Okay, see you tomorrow." I know I shouldn't jest when he's dumping me, but you really have to know the two of us. He doesn't want it to end any more than I do. The only reason that this keeps happening is because it's so intense with us. Even I find it frightening from time to time. I just take a different approach than he does. He freaks out. I refuse to think about it and just enjoy the moment.

I suppose that, at some point or another, we'll have to do something about it. We can't keep traveling in this same circle over and over. I've tried talking to him about it, but he doesn't want to talk about it. Truth be told, I don't feel like tearing it apart and analyzing it either. I really don't want to think about it. Thinking about it means doing something. Doing things means changing thing. I don't want it to change. I love what we have. This would be the first relationship in my whole dating history that was exactly the way I wanted it. Of course, if this relationship had happened a few years ago, it would've been a different story.

It's funny, actually. I grew up like every other girl out there, dreaming of picket fences and knights on white horses. I would put on my mom's wedding dress from time to time, stand in front of a mirror and dream. In my dreams the roses would never wilt, the kisses would never end, and two halves made a whole. But reality is much different, isn't it? In my reality, I can count the number of times I've received flowers with one hand and have fingers to spare, kisses became meaningless, and marriage was just a piece of paper. I discovered that what I thought I wanted, wasn't much like what I really wanted at all.

It took me a long time to figure out what was wrong with the painting I had painted in my mind. It took even longer to find out what it was that I really needed to be happy. It was very hard to figure out. It involve a lot of brutal honesty with myself. You can't imagine how hard it is to tell yourself the truth. You don't even realize how often you neglect to tell yourself everything. And even when you know you do it, you will outright lie to yourself to protect this piece of artwork in your mind. The fact is, you just don't want to give up something that you believed in for so long. I dreamt of that picket fence forever. It was all I wanted to do, wanted to be. It was very hard to let that go.

Divorce was pretty hard on me. It was the end of a very long dream. I found myself adrift afterward. It was like being lost in space. All around me was the glow of other dreams, shimmering like stars, but I existed in an emptiness, a void I had no hope of filling. But just when I thought that dreams were for the naive, Sexy comes along.

Please don't get me wrong. Sexy is not a cure-all. He didn't make anything happen for me. The only thing that happened by loving him is that I learned. I learned what it was that I wanted. I learned that the mess that was my marriage had blame at my feet as well. I was guilty of lying to myself. I told myself that if I worked hard enough, any man could be my knight. I had settled, modified, adapted the situation to fit this dream. Only, in the end, I had distorted the dream so much that it was nothing like what it had been. Oh yes, I have guilt in abundance.

Now there is this new man in my life. His intelligence intrigues me. His humor charms me. His passion burns me. His gentelness weakens me. In his presence, I find comfort. In his arms, I find love. It's everything I wanted, and so much more. And yet, it shares a similarity with my marriage. It too is nothing like what I had once dreamt of. There's no picket fence to contain us. There's no rings to bind us. With Sexy, one and one does not equal one, but for the first time in my life that doesn't matter.

Why it does not matter, I couldn't tell you. It's one of those things that I would have to think about, and I'll admit that I'm afraid to approach the subject, even in my own mind. Thinking means changing, after all, and I'm so blissfully happy now. In loving him, I'd found another piece of me that I had lost along the way. I fear losing it again.

I know that, in time, I will have to think about it. You cannot travel in circles forever. We can't keep breaking up, mending things, then starting the cycle over again. There's something that we both need that lies further ahead. I'm not sure what that is right now. The only thing I do know is that it's there. I know, with a certainty that is beyond explaination, that he's the one my heart has longed for all this time. He's touched me deeper than anyone, reached more levels than even I knew existed. It's why I don't think about it. Instead, I live it, feel it, take it all in one moment at a time. I savor the goodness of it. Instead of trying to pump life into the dream, I let it exist on it's own. And I pray. I pray, and then I tell him that I will be there the next day. And the next day. And the next day. Surely it's not a jest when it's true.

Master Puppeteer (Poem)

2007-08-11T02:53:00.000-07:00

Master Puppeteer

I dance and sing
on silver string.
I laugh and cry
with no reason why.
I sit and stand
on your demand.

Master Puppeteer,
I bow to you
with all the gentle rage
and love of youth.
But, I wish you had
spoke the truth.

I grovel and crawl
with no thought at all.
I adore and praise
in a desperate haze.
I act the pet
with no regret.

Master Puppeteer,
I bow to you
with all the gentle rage
and love of youth.
But, I wish you had
spoke the truth.
Master Puppeteer,
I do not pout.
You tell me not to ask
and not to doubt,
yet from these strings
you will not let me out.

No Rest For The Wicked

2007-08-11T01:33:00.000-07:00

I've barely had time to stop and rest lately. Day after day seems filled to the brim with non-stop errands and endless tasks. Not that I'm complaining. I'm in a situation of my own making, really. I have this terrible tendency to bite off more than I can chew. Still, it keeps me out of trouble, most of the time.

The new abode is coming along well, minus the few minor glitches. I went up there the other day to do some more work, only to discover that the power had been shut off. I hadn't gotten around to putting the power in my name yet, as I'm not living there, and my aunt and uncle have been dealing with other things. Their son, my cousin, just got back from Iraq due to his wife having a seizure while driving. Luckily, she and the kids were fine. Mainly, she was just a little shook up. Thankfully, she was on her cell phone when she blacked out. I don't condone driving while on the phone, but it turned out to be a blessing. The person she was talking to was able to locate her and get help right away.

So, renovations will have to wait for the moment. I find this a little frustrating. I was having so much fun fixing my place up. I actually got Sexy involve with it too. We spent an evening working on the kitchen, followed by breaking in the massive tub in the master bathroom. Yay, bubbles! Nothing makes a new place feel more like home than taking a long bubble bath with the one you love. The wine and the dancing didn't hurt either. Construction is so much fun! I can't wait to start painting. I've already made Sexy promise to help with that. I get weak in the knees just thinking about it.

Other than renovations, I've been getting myself prepared for another session of school. I'm starting to lose steam in that area. It's been so frustrating, trying to keep up with school while living life. I feel like I spend most of my time cutting out the middle so I can make the ends meet. I realize that, as a parent, those feelings will never go away. No matter where you are in life, a good parent makes sacrifices to provide for their kids, whether it's time, money, or whatever. Still, I thank the Lord that I have Sexy in my life. It's those stolen moments with him that make me feel rejuvenated. For a little while, I'm just me. Not a mother or a sister or a student. Just me. It's what's kept me sane the past couple of years while I dealt with divorce, single parenthood, being a student again, and helping my family though their problems as they helped me through mine.

You can't imagine what it means to have someone look at you and not see a label. When he looks at me, he just sees Anita. I didn't realize how important it was until I lost me. Sounds kinda funny, doesn't it? How does one lose themselves? It's pretty simple actually. Once I had kids, a husband, two jobs and a home to take care of, I forgot that I had me to take care of as well. By the time I realized what was missing, the damage had been done. My marriage was a wreck because my husband was married to someone who didn't exist anymore. He was okay with this. I wasn't. I decided I needed a do-over.

There really isn't such a thing as a "fresh start" in life. I was still a mother. That didn't change. I was still a daughter, sister, and now an ex-wife. I carried a lot of labels with me when I made my change. I even added a few more. Now I'm a student as well. Still, the best label I picked up was Anita. That label is still a work in progress. I'm not sure, exactly, what that label defines at this point, but the discovery part has been a barrel of fun.

I still worry about falling into the same trap as before where I let life roll over me. There's so much that needs to be done by me. There's so many rolls I have to fill. However, now that I'm aware of what I lost, now that I've worked so hard to find it back, I don't think I'll neglect it again. It may be a sin to be totally self-indulgent, but I also think it a sin not to live the life you've been given. If you stop being who you are, what's the point?

So, I'll keep the labels I have. I'll also keep Sexy around to remind me of the person who owns those labels. I won't let the labels own me anymore, even if it seems like they still do from time to time. I'll indulge myself in my spare time, when I can find it. If I can't find it, I'll make it. There may not be any rest for the wicked, but that doesn't mean you can't have fun with the work, does it?

Casting Stones

2007-08-03T22:03:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since my last post. Life just runs away with you, doesn't it? I feel like I have to schedule time to eat and breathe any more. Of course, some of this is my fault. It would help if I didn't spend all of my spare time in the evenings chasing my fella, but it's just so much fun. Lately, we've been spending a lot of time behaving like a couple of hormone driven teenagers. No public venue is safe! Seems kinda funny when I think about it. I approached every relationship before this with maturity and responsibility. Now, I'm behaving like every moment we're together without our tongues lodged down each other's throat is a wasted moment. Funny how this relationship is more solid than the previous ones. Ours is not a conventional romance, and I thank my lucky stars.

Anyway, it was one of these moments with my gent that provided me with tonight's topic. My Sexy and I were standing outside his apartment when I asked him if he wanted to browse through the local adult store. Just so you don't misunderstand, I didn't issue this invitation because my whip is frayed and my dildo busted. I didn't plan on picking up a video involving loose women and farm animals. All I had in mind was massage oils, possibly an ostrich feather or those dice that give you some suggestions on the various ways you can pay attention to various parts of the body. Quite simply, my boy and I don't need much extra. We strike sparks between us with a look. However, Sexy thought this was a bad idea. Seems that a Baptist minister and his wife live nearby and take shifts with their binoculars. Apparently, they are gathering the plate numbers of every vehicle that visits this establishment to post on a website.

So, instead of spending a couple of bucks on a bottle of oil and a relaxing evening indoors (for a change), we sneak up to his folks house, park down the street, tip-toe through their yard, quietly remove our clothes and go for a swim in the pool behind their house. Like I said, being with him is like being a teenager all over again, only this time, more fun. We splashed around a lot, woke up the neighborhood dogs (which proceeded to bark like mad) and had a glorious time. Thank goodness his parents have double paned glass in their windows, or things could've become very embarrassing, very quickly.

So, a couple of days has passed now. I was just thinking today that I still need to get some massage oil. I know, I know, oils and lotions are everywhere. I don't need to patron an adult store for this. However, I'm very picky when it comes to a purchase of this nature. I love giving massages. I do my best work when I have the right tool. I also have a sensitivity to certain smells. Sweet smells make me sick to my stomach. Musky smells do the same. I prefer something more earthy for this. Plus, you have to get massage oil. Lotion just doesn't work the same and can have unpleasant side effects. So, best place to find what I'm looking for without spending an arm and a leg? An adult store, of course. And guess what?! There's one conveniently located near me. Only, if I go there, my plate number is going to end up on the Internet. And while I'm not embarrassed to walk into a store like this, I do see how having this advertised could cause me problems in the future. A prospective employer, for example, might make an incorrect assessment of my character based on this info.

I find this situation a little bothersome, not because I'm blocked from getting what I want (I'm really not after all) but because it's a minister that is doing this. Hypocrites are my biggest pet-peeve. This man and his wife are casting stones at strangers because they are different from them. They are trying to wound other human beings because they don't agree with what these people purchase. Hell, they're not even trying to find out what these people purchase! They simply want to hurt them based on the doors they walk through. This minister is teaching a code of ethics that he's not living by, and it makes me mad.

I wish I could come face to face with this minister. I would have one sentence to say to him: "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone!" Okay, I'd have more to say to him than that. I'd also tell him that the position of "Judge for all Mankind" has been filled a long time ago by someone far more qualified than he. Then, I'd point out that he and I are not that different. I like giving massages because people bear their "crosses" on their backs, most often than not. By this, I mean that the stress from carrying their burdens end up directly in their back muscles. By something as simple as a back massage, you can help lift people of their burdens, even for a short amount of time. A gentle touch and a thoughtful act make people feel loved and more capable of facing their challenges. They're more likely to have a positive attitude when receive even a simple pleasure like this. They're also more likely to spread their good fortune around and help lighten someone else's burden. Basically, I'm making the world a better place, one back at a time. I'm using the skills that God gave me to make a difference in the lives of others. But do you think the minister thinks of this? Nope, he casts a stone at this lowly sinner and thinks his own pious soul is untouchable. He tells others how to be good Christians but doesn't look in the mirror.

I can see how he could take offense to an adult store. I am not criticizing his dislike of it. If his belief is that it is wrong, then he must hold firm to his beliefs. In other words, don't visit the place if you don't want to be there. However, he should also keep in mind that there are those who differ from him in their beliefs. It doesn't make them wrong, just different. Even if his beliefs are the right ones, that doesn't give him the right to judge the beliefs of others. At the end of the day, he is human and flawed, just like the rest of us. We have been designed to be flawed. It is up to our own selves to be aware of our flaws and rectify them. The only thing else we should do is be tolerant of the flaws that others possess. And do NOT be a hypocrite! In fact, let's make it a commandment. Thou shalt not point fingers and avoid the mirror.

A Better Deal (Poem)

2007-07-22T02:49:00.000-07:00

A Better Deal

Baby, Baby,
look at my tears.
Do you think
that they aren’t real?
Do you think
that I’m too shallow;
that love is
something I can’t feel?

Baby, Baby,
look at my pain.
It’s written
all over my face.
Do you feel
a bit of remorse?
Of regret,
is there a trace?

Well, I can’t understand it,
it is true.
Is a broken heart and goodbye,
all I get from you?
I never said I’m perfect,
but I was always real.
But, all you ever wanted
was a better deal.

Baby, Baby,
have a heart.
How can you
stand there while I cry?
Did my love
mean nothing to you?
Was forever
just a lie?

Baby, Baby,
give it up.
Do you have
to act so cool?
Gives me shivers
the way you look through me.
I can’t believe
I’m such a fool.

Well, I don’t understand it,
it is true.
Is a broken heart and goodbye,
all I get from you?
I gave you everything I had.
So, tell me, do you feel
like you will really find
a better deal?

Home Sweet Home, cough, cough.

2007-07-22T01:46:00.000-07:00

You never know what you'll find when you pull up carpet. I've been doing some renovating on a place my aunt owns. She's moved to a smaller, easier to maintain place and needed someone to inhabit the old place. I needed more space, so I happily agreed to fill the position. I'm getting a 4 bedroom, 2 bath house with fenced in yard for the kiddies, and it will only cost me around $300 a month to live in (this includes utilities).

However, I decided that I needed to do some major cosmetic surgery before I could claim it habitable enough to move into. This led to removing the carpet, which led to the nastiest cold ever. I've been flat on my back for several days now, barely able to move, speak, or hear. I just got my sense of taste back today, though I'm thinking it's going to be a while before food appeals to me. Not to mention, I'm back in the catch-up mode. The world doesn't stop for the sniffles. I just have one question. How does the laundry pile get so big when you're out of the game for a couple of days? Thank goodness this new place is all one level. There's nothing worse than dragging baskets of laundry up and down stairs when you're under the weather.

I figure that it will be a couple more days before I'm human again. After that, I'll be back at the grindstone, laying new carpet and painting walls. The worst part is over now. All that's left is the fixing up part. This is the part I like the best, when you can see the changes happen right before your eyes. I love the fact that I have a totally blank canvas to work with. I can put my stamp on the place, really make it feel like home. What makes it more exciting is the fact that this is my first home "on my own". I'll have my kids there, of course, so I won't be alone. But, I'll be totally independent and completely responsible for it. Add to that the fact that I'll be decorating it by my own tastes and without having to defer to anyone else, and I'm on cloud-nine.

I didn't know how much that meant to me until I started living with the guy who became my ex-husband. He has a passion for Elvis and power tools that drove me crazy. I had a huge picture of Elvis on my living room wall, figurines on my shelves, dirty power tools on my kitchen table and in the mud room, and I despised it all. If it wasn't Elvis or cordless drills, it was all this tacky, orange Tony Stewart paraphernalia. Seriously, no one takes you as a mature, intelligent and tasteful individual when you have posters of race car drivers and long deceased rock stars on your wall. And did I mention that my ex is 23 years older than I am? At some point as you grow up, it almost becomes a necessity to do away with posters held up with thumbtacks. Perhaps this is one of the reasons I am his third ex-wife.

Anyway, I don't have to worry about that anymore. At least, not until the kids get a little older. Still, I can confine it to their rooms if I must. No more Elvis watching me undress in my bedroom. No more lugging heavy equipment off the table, then sanding the table down so I can sit at it and enjoy a meal. No more beanbag chairs. No more tacky western shirts in my closet. The walls will be the color I wish. The furniture will be arranged the way I like it. And, oh my gosh, I'll have total control of the remote! I'll finally have a place that I can relax in. Well, if I can get rid of this cold first.

You Called My Name (Poem)

2007-07-12T00:47:00.000-07:00

You Called My Name

Just when I thought
I’d be okay,
that the memories of you
had gone away.
Just as the pain
started to fade,
you called my name.

Just when the longing
deep inside,
became something I thought
I could hide.
Just when I moved on
with my life,
you called my name.

There’s a part of me
that cannot seem
to let go.
There’s a part of you
that feels it too,
you must know.
‘Cause every time
I walked away,
you called my name.

Just when I thought
that I could breathe
without the scent of
you on me.
Just when I let go
of this need,
you called my name.

There’s a part of me
that cannot seem
to let go.
There’s a part of you
that feels it too,
you must know.
‘Cause every time
I walked away,
you called my name.

Unspoken (Poem)

2007-07-12T00:39:00.000-07:00

Unspoken

Did you hear the soft, “I love you,”
that my lips just didn’t say?
Did you see my complete love for you
that my eyes just gave away?
Did you taste the bittersweetness
in our gentle kiss goodbye?
Did you see the salty anguish
in the tears I wouldn’t cry?
Did you know I felt your sorrow
that, “I’m sorry,” couldn’t right?
Did you feel how much I need you
by the way I held on tight?
Did you see my complete love for you
that my eyes just gave away?
Did you hear the soft, “I love you,”
that my lips just didn’t say?

Blog Surfing

2007-07-12T00:34:00.000-07:00

You never know what you’ll get when you hit that “next blog” link, do you?

I got the brilliant idea to browse through some blogs to see what was out there, me being so curious and all. I learned a valuable lesson when I did. I learned that I really don’t want to know what’s out there. Out of the twenty or so blogs that I came across, I could only read three of them. Out of the three I could read, only one of them had intelligent content.

I don’t have much to say about the ones I couldn’t read. It’s not their fault that English and bad English are my only languages, therefore I have no strong opinions about them. I was wondering if they would be upset if I posted a response in English. Probably not.

It was the three that I could read that had me so disappointed. The first one I came across was beyond vulgar. They obviously missed the part about not having pornographic content on their blog. A British woman, guessing by the slang, authored the blog. She had one post with pictures of deformed anatomy. Another post of hers had her sex toys and panties up for trade. Her written parts were equally as obscene and filled with profanity.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with her particular tastes. I really can’t say that I have room for criticism. After all, I had three kids before I was married, so I wouldn’t win the “Good Christian” award in the mating habits and rituals category. I’m simply asking why she advertised this about herself. Why? Why make it public when you can still write what you think without making it known to your fellow man? What could her purpose possibly be? I mean, I guess it was entertaining in a “mangled limbs at a train wreck” kinda way. Still, I wonder if she realized the message she’s sending to her audience?

The second readable one was much better, though much duller. This gentleman was using his blog to preach the benefits of positive thinking. I was positively bored. Apparently, he was too. There was only two posts and they spanned a year and a half time period.

The third blog probably shouldn’t have fallen into the readable category. I can read bad English, but this was beyond bad. Maybe if the teenage girl writing the blog would spell out her words so I could know what was abbreviation and what was just a misspelled word, it might have been different. Again, if your intended audience is persons who understand you just fine, hide your blog and invite those who understand you.

So, maybe I’ll skip checking out other blogs. Something tells me that I’m not going to find much of what I’m looking for.

Birthday Blessings

2007-07-11T22:57:00.000-07:00

Tuesday was my twenty seventh birthday. It wasn't much, as far as birthdays go, but it wasn't bad either. Honestly, birthdays aren't much of a big deal to me. I guess I fail to understand the significance of them.

I suppose that some might say that it's to celebrate another year of life. Others would claim that it's just a way of marking that you're another year closer to death. I'm neither a "glass half full" or a "glass half empty" kinda girl, so I'm not into celebrating because of that. I'm just not into celebrating birthdays, period.

Don't get me wrong, I don't have any particularly strong feelings regarding this issue. I don't hate birthdays. I just don't see the reason for the fuss. You get older every day, not just one day a year. You don't gain a year's worth of knowledge on this particular day. Yet, you still get rewarded for, what? Not getting creamed by a train or falling down a well in the past year? Well, I guess it's as good a reason as any. I am a little giddy to still be breathing. Still, breathing is instinctual. I do it ALL the time. I hardly think it calls for cake. ;-D

I guess I can see the allure for some (and despair for others). Everyone likes to feel special. Everyone likes to have their moment in the sun. I'm as guilty as the next person, in that respect. It's nice to have friends and family show their appreciation for your existence in their lives.

I just wish it wasn't such a production. I hate that people feel obligated to be kind to me on a particular day during the year. I would much rather opt for a spontaneous gesture, one that truly showed consideration. For instance, it was to celebrate my birthday, but the gesture the class made on Monday night wasn't obligatory. It showed thoughtfulness and genuine warm feelings towards me and it was the best birthday present I've ever had. Well, other than the puppy I got for my sixteenth birthday. Nothing beats a puppy.

I guess what it amounts to is the meaning of the gesture. A good deed done out of obligation, guilt, or for recognition doesn't seem like such a good deed, and I hate being the purpose behind such an act. I would much rather be the recipient of a kind gesture made out of genuine caring. That truly makes me feel as if the past year of my life has value.

Well, here I am, another day older and without cake to celebrate the fact. I'm always joyful that I've had another moment to grow wiser, love stronger and give more. I'm never resentful that I'm closer to my "oven timer" going off. I try to remember each day to be thankful of my blessings and to show my gratitude without looking at the calendar. I hope I let people know by my actions that I value their acts of goodwill towards me, and that presents and cake are not necessary, but are cherished none-the-less. I hope they know that their presence in my life over the year is what made the year worth living and the only thing I truly find worth celebrating. I hope that if I forget their birthday in turn they know it's not because their life has no meaning to me. Quite simply, I'm not the best at scheduling my time, and it's hard to remember a particular day to be loving, respectful and appreciative when I feel that way every day.

So, I just want to say to those who went out of their way for my birthday, thank you very much. The fact that no one made a huge production, as per my wishes, showed me that everyone who acted, did so out of the best of motives. To those who forgot my birthday, I'm not upset. I'm not saddened by it, or feeling neglected, or under the impression that I don't matter to you. Every one who is in my circle of friends and family are there because they have shown me kindness beyond a scheduled date anyway. And as I reflect on the past year of my life, I recognise the true gift you have already given me. You have given me pieces of yourself, whether it be time, consideration, respect, love, appreciation, and/or friendship.

Okay, that does beat a puppy. But the puppy was still awesome.

Where Did I Go Wrong? (Poem)

2007-07-08T20:20:00.000-07:00

Where Did I Go Wrong?

It’s hard to find a reason;
a purpose to believe in.
Never thought that you’d be leavin’.
How could I be so wrong?
My whole soul feels so hollow
after all the lies I swallowed.
I know not what will follow.
My passions still burn strong.
Just where did I go wrong?

I gave you laughter.
I gave you love.
I gave you every part of me
that I could give up,
and you never implied
it wasn’t enough.
I gave you comfort.
You gave me pain.
Well, I can’t help but feel
I got the bad end of this deal.
How long has this been going on?
Just where did I go wrong?

Letting Go

2007-07-08T18:45:00.000-07:00

I recently threw a baby shower for my littlest sister. It turned out pretty good despite the fact that few people showed. The food could of been better, but Mom was in charge of that. One of the games flopped because there wasn't enough people to play. Thankfully, I'm quick on my feet and thought of a back-up game. The best part, however, was one of the things I planned. I bought a scrapbook and had everyone who attended make a scrapbook page. Each page had a box on it for the person to list their name and a spot for them to say something personal, informative, or funny to my sister. We took lots of pictures during the whole thing, so it's just a matter of cut and paste to finish it. Isn't that brilliant?

Of course, I was too busy hosting to make a page from me. I thought about it shortly after the shower and decided I was definitely going to do one. I thought about what I would write in the box to share with my sister about having a baby. It didn't take long to figure out. If my sister needs any advice, it's this:

God gives us children to hold so we can learn how to let go.

I know, it sounds like a Hallmark card, but it's so true. Since the moment of conception, I had to learn to let go of a lot of things.

The first was my sense of modesty. You have numerous doctors, nurses, lab techs, and assistants poking and prodding you from every angle. You have every reckless decision you made as a teen evaluated, re-evaluated, and analysed. Your territorial bubble is invaded by countless women as they rub your belly, whether it bulges or not. Your body becomes public space the second you share it with new life, and you can either dwell in your humility and shame or let go and except it.

The second thing I had to let go of was my vanity. Stretchmarks, pants with spandex panels, and the disappointing day after delivery when you still look 6 months pregnant leave little to feel sexy about. I was a size two before pregnancy and a size twelve after. Not to mention, I wasn't even out of maternity clothes when I discovered the boys were on their way.

Next, I had to let go of control. When the twins came around I also had an eleven-month-old daughter at home who was learning how to walk. Between dishes, laundry, babies, doctors, my job and my then husband, there was too many things to do and not enough hours in the day. I didn't want anyone else doing my chores because they didn't do them the way I liked them done. However, I learned that getting them done was more important than getting them done right.

After that, I learned how to let go of the things I only thought were important. Countless belongings have now been demolished, countless desires shelved for another day. Your priorities become rearranged and you discover that there are larger things in this world than yourself. It's a hard lesson. Very hard. Especially when your favorite necklace that your grandmother gave you rides The Porcelain Express.

I've had to learn to let go of a lot of things, and I face more in the future. For instance, letting go of the bike so they can learn how to crash. There's also learning to let them go as they strike out in the world, totally independent and naive. The only thing that makes it worth it is the things you get to keep. You get to keep their love, and the precious memories. You get to keep fingerpaintings they did in Kindergarten and macaroni necklaces to replace the one that got flushed. You get to keep the peace you gained when you learned that control is an illusion.

I've definately received more than I've lost in this little venture. I'm sure my sister will too. It's what parenthood is all about.

Catch-Up

2007-07-08T18:30:00.000-07:00

I hate being sick. I really hate playing catch-up when I start to feel better. I said start because I'm still not my usually perky self. I feel like an old dish cloth (used hard, wrung out, and hung up wet). It probably would have been better if I hadn't had the kiddies this weekend, or if my folks would of been in town. Heck, even in state would of been nice. I did discover something incredibly important though. I cannot be doped up and still deal with three toddlers. They're quicker than me anyway, but add in a little cold medicine and it's truly an unfair battle.

So, today has been a crazy day. I finally got my laundry and dishes caught up. I definately need to find me a place where the washer and dryer is on the same level as the rest of the house. Stairs suck! I finally got my homework done for my business class. Thankfully, most of it was done earlier in the week. Now, I'm playing catch-up on my blogs. Thank goodness this was a light week homeworkwise. If not, I would just have to crawl back in bed.

Little Things (Poem)

2007-07-01T01:40:00.000-07:00

Little Things

I don’t need a big stone on my finger.
I don’t need a mansion on a hill.
I don’t need for you to move a mountain.
I don’t need so much to get a thrill.

It’s the way you softly touch my face,
the way you kiss my tears away,
the way you hold me ‘til I fall asleep.
It’s the way you sing me our love song.
The words are right. The pitch is wrong.
Is it no wonder that I fell in deep.
I’m so amazed, so blown away,
by the little things.

I don’t need a limo to escort me.
I don’t need to go out every night.
I don’t need more than your love to please me.
It’s the little things that make this love so right.

It’s the way you say, “I’m sorry,” first
to save my pride and ease my hurt,
the way you’ll pick a flower for my hair.
It’s the way we dance in the moonlight,
the way you talk to me all night.
You never cease to show me that you care.
Yes, I’m amazed, so blown away,
by the little things.

Kids Today

2007-06-30T22:54:00.000-07:00

I once had a wireless air card, so I accessed the Internet through my IE, which brought up the yahoo home page. However, there were major complications, and now I'm using AOL dial-up (shudder). The neat thing about this is AOL's homepage. I just spent like two hours looking up these articles and reading the responding posts. The article that first caught my attention was one about rules of etiquette at concerts. Most of these rules were common sense, but I couldn't believe how ignorant some of the responses to these rules were. Maybe one out of ever 15 posts made it through the whole thing without a cuss word. About half of them were nothing but profanity with a few ands and buts thrown in for good measure.

Maybe I'm just too old for my age. I'm sure most of the people responding to this were minors, but I'm not that much older. Still, I can't see how they think all of that vulgarity helps them in any way. I've always heard that profanity is a sign of stupidity. If the only words you have in your vocabulary bank is cuss words, you need to pick up a book (preferably a dictionary).

Perhaps I'm just on the edge of being middle aged. You know, that awkward time where you still think you're young, but you're really not. It's kind of funny in a way. As a kid, I dreaded getting old. At eight, eighteen was old. At fifteen, twenty one was old. At twenty five, thirty five was old. As I get older, the fine line between youth and experience keeps moving further away. My twenty seventh birthday is coming up in a few short days, and my question is this: When does the line stop moving? Do you just wake up one morning and think, "I'm old. It crept up on me last night while I was sleeping!"

I still consider myself a kid. Not a little kid, in the minor sense, but a grown kid. I've grown physically as much as I will. I won't get any taller and puberty is a thing of the past. I have kids of my own now and a butt load of responsibility to go with. But, in the larger scheme of things, I'm still young. Now, eighty is old. I just can't help but wonder if I somehow crossed the line and didn't know it. I no longer fear the aging process like I once did. Now I fear being that ridiculous adult who tries to be the perpetual youth.

I think this would be easier if I knew how to tell that I was finally old. Is it when you start quoting your parents? Is it when you start talking about "kids today"? How do you tell? Maybe they should give some sort of vocabulary test to determine when you've nose dived into adulthood. If most of your vocabulary can't be spoken aloud over the radio or in a church, you're still a kid.

Sunlight In My Rain

2007-06-30T22:46:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: I wrote this Friday morning in Word, then promptly fell asleep after. Reading this again as I post, I realized that some might not wish to know this much about me. There's nothing vulgar about this post, however, if you can't hear something about a person's personal life and still look them in the eyes, read no further.

Last night was one of the best nights of my life. It definitely ranks in the top three. What makes last night so special? I’m glad you asked. I went to visit my significant other after a long, hard day, and we played in the rain for a couple few hours. After which, he was concerned about me being too cold (which I definitely wasn’t), so he nudged me into the shower and washed me from head to toe. I particularly loved when he washed my hair. He washed my hair, ladies! How sexy is that?

At this point, I had about all the yummy I could take while still standing. I started getting woozy, so he laid me down, towel dried me, brought me a cold drink, and massaged my back, all the while telling me how special I am.

I can hear the feminine sighs of envy now, and the male snickers. But, let me tell you, boys, he is more man than any guy has a right to be. He can go from caveman to Casanova in a nanosecond. I am so, so, SO lucky.

Last night makes me wonder a few things, though. Like, why hasn’t the rest of the male population caught onto this? Don’t they understand the benefits they would reap from a few romantic gestures? Relationships are like karma, what goes around comes around. With such little effort, my boy toy has just earned himself a batch of homemade cookies and an exotic dance. Lucky him. Not to mention, I’m more confident about his feelings for me, therefore I won’t need to constantly be attached to him as confirmation of said feelings. Last, but not least, he now gets to beat his chest and talk shop about how he turned his younger girlfriend into a human jello mold. I also get to brag about how my fella melted every bone in my body. It’s a win/win situation.

Don’t get me wrong. This should definitely not be an every day occurrence. First of all, I don’t think my body could take it. I may still be young and fit, but I’m getting older every day. Most importantly, it takes something out of it if you expect it. It’s the spontaneity that makes it so special, the rarity that gives it value.

I’m telling you, I definitely feel valued. I also feel tired. Very, very tired. Thank goodness I’m all by myself and responsibility free today, ‘cuz I’m going back to bed. Goodnight, y’all.

Unspoken II (Poem)

2007-06-28T00:36:00.000-07:00

Unspoken II

My head upon his shoulder,
my hand upon his chest,
and while he slumbers peacefully,
he knows not my unrest.
Nor does he know the weight of love
that sits upon my breast.

So sad, my thoughts turn inward.
My eyes search out his face.
I wonder what force brought me here
to witness love and grace;
to take it back, now that I know,
and leave this empty space.

Tonight, his presence does naught
to drive away my fears.
And time will not erase the words
still ringing in my ears.
So, while he holds me in his sleep,
I shed, silent, my tears.

So blatantly he spoke it.
No more to him than lust.
To put a wall around his heart
and violate my trust.
He says to linger on this way
would not be fair and just.

Though what he spoke rang hollow,
I know I must let go.
His every touch of fingertips,
reminder of my woe.
And putting space between our hearts,
the only cure I know.

I know I should not linger.
No peace is gained by this.
But I cannot deny myself
this little bit of bliss.
I know not when I’ll see again
those lips I love to kiss.

I sigh, and snuggle closer
to soak him in my skin.
His troubled soul is resting now.
I wish it’d never end;
that time would stop, and nighttime stay
and not let daylight in.

I wish that I could prove him
the depth at which I’m bound.
That when this world had left him cold,
I would have been around;
that my love’s never lost to him,
just waiting to be found.

I slip from ‘tween the covers
into the cold of night.
My heart does beg me to return
and stop this prideful flight.
But to him, I’m not worth the risk
for which to stand and fight.

He stirs, but does not waken.
My heart lets out a cry.
I cup my hands over my face
until it passes by.
I don’t wish him to feel the pain
of loss, so soft I fly.
Yes, only I am witness to
the pain of our goodbye.

Inspiration

2007-06-27T23:35:00.000-07:00

I just remembered something we did in an English class I took in Jr. High. Our teacher had an weekly vocabulary assignment where we had to look up the definitions of five words of our choosing, then use one of them in a sentence in class. That was fun and educational. It also makes you sound smarter than you really are, which I'm all for. I act like a teenager, but sound like a college professor! Amazing!

I've decided to put my required college level dictionary to work. It probably won't be a weekly thing, but should still provide entertainment (at least for me).

Here's the words I discovered this week:

Calorific -(adj) producing heat calorifically (adv).
Longuer - (n) a tedious passage in a book, etc; a tedious passage of time.

And for those of you who are looking for the perfect word to describe me:

Loquacious - (adj) talkative; (of birds or water) chattering;babbling. loquaciously (adv) loquaciousness (n) loquacity (n).

When Did I Fall? (Poem)

2007-06-27T23:13:00.000-07:00

When Did I Fall?

To J.H.- the one who made me believe.

We started out; my guard was up.
I didn’t quite believe in love.
It seemed enough to just spend time with you.
But you gave your heart, and so I took.
And now, I find that I am hooked.
I never thought I’d find something this true.
And I’m so at a loss. What do I do?

When did I fall?
When did I heed your call?
When was that moment in time
where I gave you my all?
When did I stay
instead of walking away?
What was it that drove me to love you?
I cannot say.
I’ve tried so hard, but I cannot recall.
When did I fall?

I never meant to get so deep,
but now I find I’m losing sleep.
Thoughts of you keep running through my mind.
The way you smile right back at me.
The way you kiss; you taste so sweet.
And if you have a flaw, I must be blind.
A reason to let go I cannot find.

When did I fall?
When did I heed your call?
When was that moment in time
where I gave you my all?
When did I stay
instead of walking away?
What was it that drove me to love you?
I cannot say.
I’ve tried so hard, but I cannot recall.
When did I fall?

Smoker's Social Hour

2007-06-27T22:37:00.000-07:00

I had just got home from class and was making my famous heart attack potatoes, when I realized something: The non-smokers are starting to join the after class smoker's social hour. Yay! There's so much more fun to be had when there's more people to share it with! I've also noticed that we're picking up people from outside of our class too. They don't stay as long or contribute as much, but they do stop in for a visit from time to time.

This got me wondering, what is it about a group of people conversing that draws the masses like a moth to flame? I know that I'm insanely curious by nature, but I never really thought about everyone else being that way. Still, I imagine that what they see makes them wonder what's going on. There's people laughing, pointing at papers, waving their arms around, and running in circles like a dog after its own tail. People must wonder if they've walked into a Pentecostal church. Some are speaking in tongues, others are flailing about on the ground, and a preacher is slapping others on the head saying, "I have exorcised the demon! Can I get an Amen!?"

Next, I wonder how many of these people find themselves in a conversation they don't wish to be in? I've been in that situation before. There's been many a time that I've stopped or been stopped by an old class mate for "catch up" time, only to discover that I really didn't want to know what they've been doing for the past five or so years. Sometimes, it's because my life looks so pathetic in comparison. Sometimes, it's because their life, that they are soooooo excited about, just bores me to tears. "Uh huh, uh huh, yeah, you got yourself a little teacup chihuahua named Pookie. He's learned to bark on command. Musta been hard. I mean, chihuahuas hardly ever bark. And you say it only took five years to do this? Wow! I'm so impressed." I guess everyone has their own little "Pookie" story to tell though. I mean, I start most of my conversations with new people with the line, "I had three kids in one year!" I'm pretty sure that there are people who think, "She can stop there and I'll be fine."

I guess I'm lucky. Most people respond with that innate curiosity, after which, I get to tell them all about my precious babies. After that, it naturally leads to the subject of my ex husband, for which I have hours of ammo. And if ever you start finding yourself daydreaming of a tropical island while I rant, you have permission to slap me on the head and say, "I have exorcise the demon!" You never know, it might bring some new people into the conversation.

Brain Drain

2007-06-23T20:09:00.000-07:00

I'm beginning to wonder if some alien race discovered my blog and, lacking any humor or creativity of their own, decided to suck my artistic brain dry. I know that when you hit a slump with your writing, you should keep writing. I just really despise looking at a blank screen. Maybe it it's the flashing cursor. Write.Write. Write. Write. Write. Or, maybe it's looking at all the other words that surround my blank screen. I see the words: compose, edit, comments, and create. It's a small form of torture for a person who is normally not at a loss for words.

I guess this is constructive for me. I'm not really dumbfounded when it comes to topics to write about. I simply don't have anything G rated. I have some colorful things to say about my ex husband, but it's a little harsh. I can talk about the humorous things that my kids have been doing, but no one really wants to be entertained with potty training misfortunes. I know I can't talk about my last date, or the neighbors comments the next day. That's totally out of the question, but for all of you who are truly curious, I'll hang around Monday night after class.

I think my problem stems from my upbringing. We didn't have this kind of censorship in our house. Our intimate lives weren't intimate at all. My folks knew what and whom I was doing at all times. I knew more than I wanted about them too. Actually, it's still that way. The lines of communication were more than open at all times. Unfortunately, I haven't adapted to the "real world" as of yet. I'm used to sharing the same information that others squirm just thinking about. Maybe, this class will teach me a happy medium. Or, maybe not. Maybe, I'll just end up staring at a flashing cursor. Write. Write. Write. Write. Write.

Let It Rain!

2007-06-21T12:22:00.000-07:00

I’m feeling a little creatively challenged this week. In other words, my stream of ideas could use a little precipitation. Now, I just need to make it rain. I thought about all the tips we were given in class to come up with new ideas. For instance, reading other written works.

I started with my blog, since it was so handy to get to. I didn’t get anything from that. Well, let me clarify. I didn’t get anything useful from it. I did get a few ideas, but nothing I could post without receiving a stern look and a wagging finger. Back to the drawing board.

Next, I tried looking at someone else’s blog. I clicked on the link that says “next blog,” in the upper left hand side. I didn’t see a whole lot to work with by this, either. I did see something that amused me personally. The author of this site posted a “phobia of the day.” I didn’t realize that there were people in this world who were scared of some of these things. Take chirophobia, otherwise known as the fear of hands. How awful must it be to be afraid of your own hands? How, in the world, would you deal with that?

Now, I’m starting to catch a little drizzle. I suddenly remember this twilight zone episode where this man’s hands take over his body, choke the man to death, separate themselves from the man, and join this posse of hands that are running rampant through the town. I think I would have a phobia of hands, too, if this happened.

Here’s a train of thought detour: Fear doesn’t always follow logic, does it? I’m afraid of losing my kids, but the thought only makes me cry. I’m afraid of spiders, and the thought of them leaves me paralyzed. My eyes get big, my chest heaves, my muscles freeze, and the scream of terror freezes in my throat. Ask me which one is worse, and, without a doubt in my mind, I’ll say losing my kids. It’s logical to be afraid of losing them. My fear of spiders isn’t very logical at all. Maybe, that’s why my reaction is so extreme. But, I don’t think spiders are logical either. They have two many legs to be able to move that fast. I’m clumsy on the two legs I have. I’m worse in a three-legged race. How do they get all those legs to move together and not trip themselves up? Or bathroom walls. How do they climb up the shower walls? That’s not right!

Who really knows why we fear the things we fear? I could say that I fear spiders because they lurk in dark places, waiting to jump out at you and attach themselves to you. Maybe it’s true. I’m sure that plays a part in it. Still, it’s not very logical to be afraid of spiders since I’ve never had the misfortune to be hurt by one. Then again, I don’t see how people can be afraid of hands either. Maybe they experienced some trauma while watching twilight zone. Maybe, just maybe, fear is like a child’s Christmas present. Logic is not included.

I wish I would've bookmarked that blog I went to. I understand the the "next blog" link doesn't always take you back to the same blog. I could've added their link to my page, but no, I don't think of that. So, in an effort to amuse and entertain, I did a little research. I found a site with a compiled list of phobias that I added the link to. I feel strangly normal and well balanced when reading the list, too.

Ooodles of Fun

2007-06-15T01:31:00.000-07:00

Hairless poodles
Toaster Strudels
Ramen noodles
Labradoodles
Magnadoodles
Goodbye/tootles
Scribble/doodles
Snickerdoodles

Can anyone think of any more?

I Know Better (Poem)

2007-06-15T01:11:00.000-07:00

I Know Better

He said, “Give me one chance
to make it right.
I swear I’ve finally
seen the light.”
But, I know better.

His chef, and nurse,
and maid, and slave.
He took and took,
and still I gave.
Now, I know better.

Fool me once,
shame on you.
Fool me twice,
shame on me.
Love once made
a fool of me.
Now, I know better.

He said, “Give me one chance
to mend my ways.
You owe it to me
not to walk away.”
But, I know better.

Fool me once,
shame on you.
Fool me twice,
shame on me.
Love once made
a fool of me.
Now, I know better.
I know better.

Again (Poem)

2007-06-15T00:58:00.000-07:00

Again

Every tear
I cried for you.
Every heartbeat,
full of you.
Every moment,
fool for you.
Every joy and pain,
I’d do it all again.

Every shiver
given by you.
Every joke
I laughed with you.
Every boredom
passed with you.
Every dance out in the rain,
I’d do it all again.

Because none of it would mean a thing
if anyone else had been there with me.
And, darling, I can’t help but think
of what a waste of life that’d be.

Every second
waited for you.
Every cross word
said by you.
Every tickle
in bed with you.
Every forgiveness and blame,
I’d do it all again.

Sisters

2007-06-15T00:19:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, I think that the only reason people have siblings is so they can learn what it is like to completely love someone they don't like. I'm sure everyone who has a sibling, or two, knows what I'm talking about. I, myself, have an older brother and two younger sisters. On occasion, I wish to be an only child. I'm sure I would have hated being an only child, but it's hard to appreciate something that conficts with you so much.

First of all, I should explain that my family dynamics is a little strange. My brother is the oldest, but he acts more like the baby of the family should. He's the comedian, the one everyone loves to have at the party. My littlest sister, the real baby of the family, acts more like the oldest. She is the trailblazer, the one who kicks butt and doesn't take names. She's also the one I conflict with the most.

Don't get me wrong, I love my sister. In some ways, I envy her the very things I dislike about her. She always gets what she want. She doesn't take the backseat to anyone or anything. She tells everyone exactly what is on her mind. She doesn't smooth it over to protect feelings, she just states the facts as she sees them. I'm just not like that. I don't always get what I want. I worry about providing the things that others need first. I often take the backseat. There are just bigger things in this world than myself. I rarely unload on people when they upset me. Words can hurt as much, if not more, than weapons. See the conflict?

Honestly, I don't know if I would've had anything to do with her, were I not kin to her. We have two completely different views of the world. Her view is very black and white. My view is very shades of grey. Still, I learned a few things about her from growing up with her that make it easy to love her. She can be very giving. She is very protective of her family. She strives to do the right thing, even if it's only right in her mind. The thing I love the most, however, is that despite the fact that she acts so tough, she's very sensitive to the views of others. Who doesn't love seeing a raging monster turn into a cream puff?

I guess this sibling thing isn't so bad. Sure, I don't always get along with them. I don't even like them on a regular basis. I can say that I will always love them, and they have made me more tolerant of differences. I'll also say that I'm glad my sister is almost through with her visit back home. Two weeks down, one more to go! After that, we send her back to her husband. Now him, I like. It might just be because he moved my sister to Maryland. What a guy!

Recipe For Me

2007-06-12T00:10:00.000-07:00

Another stray thought just popped into my over-worked brain, so I thought I'd download before I combusted. I'm sure I'll regret staying up to write this when my daughter wakes me up, demanding "talking cereal" (rice krispies in more formal terms), at 4:30 in the morning. I only condone this because it's not sugar injected, chocolate coated, marshmallow sprinkled, cavity inducing trash that posses as "part of a healthy breakfast!" No, that stuff, I keep for my personal stash. However, I wait for a more decent time to indulge. Say, around noonish. That should be the mandatory breakfast hour, dontcha think?

Anyway, I was minding my own business, cleaning up the chaos that gravitates toward my work station, when out of the blue, it hits me. What recipe book was God working from when he cooked me up? I can see him, now, with a Betty Crocker cookbook in His massive hands and wearing a red and white checkered apron with frills along the bottom. Pots, pans, measuring cups, and raw ingredients are spread about a cosmic table. I can hear Him reading each ingredient out loud as his thick finger moves down the list, then searching madly for what to add to the mixing bowl.

"One cup destiny, thoroughly sifted. One level cup of free will. Three tablespoons of intelligence. What the heck, a pinch more won't hurt. Oh yeah, don't forget the common sense. That might be why the last batch didn't turn out. Let's see.....where was I? One tablespoon of fresh personality. Where did I put that? There it is! Behind the jar of dishonesty. Don't want to add that by mistake! Here's where we get creative. Two teaspoons of initiative. Wait, I'm out of initiative. Not to worry, I'll substitute with a little imagination. That should do the trick. I think I'll add a little Attention Deficit Disorder to give this dish character. Oh, and maybe a dash of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder for color. Not too much though. Don't want it to distract from the flavor. Now, mix on medium speed until well blended. Which pan do I want to use this time? Let's try the short one! Finally, pour into mold and send into world to bake for........"

Why these little thoughts materialize suddenly, and without warning, into my already stressed brain is a mystery to me. But, once they are there, they don't just go away. They sprout like dandelions in the field of my mind, spreading their seeds in every direction. What starts out as a mental image of God in a frilly apron, soon turns into a philosophical self-discussion on our purpose for being. After all, what if our sole reason for existence is simply God's attempt at making a perfect batch of humans? Makes sense, doesn't it? The trials and temptations we face in life are like the temperature of the oven. If the temperature is too hot, the outside burns to a cinder and the inside is raw. If the temperature is too cold, we don't rise properly. If we're left in too long, we can become hard as a rock. And think of this, if we're cooked beside another dish that has a strong, foul flavor or odor, we can absorb that. Now, look back on all the people you have met. How many of those people were missing a key ingredient? I've known my share! My recipe would be missing self-discipline, for one.

Ridiculous as it all might seem, I can't help but wonder about this. The sad thing, is that it makes more sense the longer I think about it. Each deliberation spurns new questions, which expand my idea further. What if animals are created the same way? Is evolution simply a correction in a faulty recipe? Are shallow people made from pre-mixed recipes, out of a box or can, in an effort to save time and cabinet space? What if the world is just a buffet table of assorted goods in the making? How long was my timer set for?

I guess there really are no answers. None we can bank on, anyway. Still, it would be helpful to know why my mind is so fertile to such off-the-wall concepts. Or better yet, how to turn them off. For now, I suppose, I'll have to satisfy myself with knowing that if I am a human dish, I was definately made from scratch and originallity was on the ingredient list.

Okay, I've been doing my best not to ask it, but I won't get any rest until I do. Do you think God licks the spoon when he's done?