fresh start

it is officially the new year.

2013 is all of 34 minutes old and already i'm a bit of a fan.

13 is my lucky number- odd, but what else would you expect from me? so here's to a lucky year!

this is the first year i've ever gone out for new years- it was a nice quiet evening at a local wine bar with delicious appetizers and dinner as well as a few bottles of wine and a champagne toast at midnight (and a great view of the fireworks from the bay window). great friends, good food, good wine- pretty damn good start to the new year.

27 minutes after new year i was home snuggly and safe in my own home, delivered safely by a designated driver. as nice as it was to be out, it's nice to be home because i love my home, i love my spawns and at the end of the day, it's where i want to be.

going forward into 2013 i've made a few GOALS, not resolutions. resolution sounds a bit too terrifying for me- if you don't meet your resolution then it's a slow torturous death in the secret chamber sucking away a year at a time for you. at least that's what it seems like.

now, i've never been a new years resolution kinda girl. i've never been any kind of goal/resolution girl to tell you the truth. i never planned on college when i was in high school. i've never been one for a 5 year plan or a 10 year plan. i'm a slight commitment-phobe to tell the truth. setting goals or making resolutions means you have to stick to things. never been very good at that.

i've never had a car payment more than a year. my longest relationship was 23 months, most average 3 months. i bought my house in one check- no 60 year mortgage for me. i've moved 13 times in 13 years. i've managed to keep plants alive for 5 years- that's pretty damn remarkable, but then again they're plants and don't require much (although i can't remember the last time i watered them...that streak may be ending soon).

i'm just not a commitment kinda girl. i'm not a plan kinda girl. i'm not sure what kind of girl i am.

BUT. this year i'm changing some of that. can't say all of it...baby steps here people. come on now...let's be reasonable.

so. i'm making a plan. i'm making several plans. i'm trying to keep them reasonable so they're achievable. i get the whole "shoot for the stars, at least you'll hit the moon" bullshit, but i'm doing damn good to even be shooting, so lets not get all wild and crazy here.  but PLANS: i'z gots them.

proper grammar isn't on the list apparently.

here's to 2013:

1 dinner party a month: i love to entertain. i love to cook. i love my dining room. i've spent WAY TOO MUCH MONEY collecting fancy serving plates and such that rarely see the light of day. so i'm fixing that. ONE dinner a month is totally reasonable and FUN! that's the goal at least. i'll be PLANNING (so strange to use that word) out each month SOON so people can get it on the calendar and join up. a chance to cook fancy shit, share wine and fun, and just...BE SOCIAL. i'm excited.

4 meals at home a week: yes, this should be a no brainer. BUT. with the spawns and schedules- we end up eating out WAY too much. add in the "i don't like that" chorus or the "we don't have the stuff to make that" answer when they do want food at home- it's unhealthy and we're making a change! three nights a week is doable. more than doable. i haven't actually been keeping track- we may be there or close already. we'll start PLANNING meals in advance, grocery shopping more specifically, getting things ready ahead of time (defrosting meat for example). here's to family dinners and healthier eating.

working out: i had written down daily, but let's start with 3 days a week and work up from there. healthier, not skinnier is the goal. i need to get on it for several reasons- TOP of the list is to get the fucking WII to stop saying "that's obese" although i have a feeling that may never happen. stupid WII. but it needs to happen for my gallbladder, for my health, for my self esteem- it just needs to happen. i have my office set up with plenty of space, i'm committed to getting up earlier in the mornings (night just never works out), and making other changes (going to bed earlier) to help keep on track.

one blog post a week: i need to write more. writing is my way of working out what's in my head, checking in, doing SOMETHING. i need to write more than when things are shitty or when something crazy is going on (London Calling anyone?). i need to get in a habit of just putting things out there, good, bad, indifferent. as long as it's something. once a week is perfectly reasonable- there's enough time on the weekends if not during the week. no reason it can't happen.

home: i'm going to keep working on it. i did the initial push before i moved in and i've just been sitting staring at what isn't finished for the last year and a half. i'm going to work on recycling more, planting a garden, doing the landscaping that i planned on all last summer and never even started. i'm going to make my outdoor theater a reality. i'm going to find a way to get a fucking bathroom door. there will be a deck railing before the end of summer and a beautiful back lawn- drunk tank and all. i'm going to make home a place that my kids and i LIVE instead of just coming home to at the end of the day. i want it to be a place for us AND FRIENDS to feel comfortable and welcome. i want dinner parties and bbq's and memories. i want art work and family pictures and character. i want HOME. a real home. laughter, noise, chaos, movie nights, birthday parties, wine nights, football games. ok...maybe not so much on the football games. i mean- i'm willing to host, just don't expect me to watch or be excited.

so. HAPPY 2013. here's to changes and making things better and setting goals. i know none of these are long term goals- i'm not saying anything too out there. I'M STILL WORKING ON IT. more to come on that. i'm trying to figure out what i want to be when i grow up now that i'm well up. but. this is a start.

off to bed- that was my first achievement of the year- a clean, fresh, beautiful new room for new years, and I DID IT. rearranged the furniture, washed all the bedding (pillows and all), baking soda/vacuumed the mattress, i went ALL OUT. i even researched feng shui to make sure i was going as much as possible to make it a good space. i'm excited to curl up and snuggle in for my first new, fresh night in this shiny new year.

cheers darlings, may 2013 be a great year for all.

gentle reminder

things haven't been great lately. we've established that.

then today driving home from work i remembered something:

I'M A SPOILED BRAT. and i should quit complaining so fucking much. instead, i need to remove my head from my ass, look around, and appreciate what i DO have. plenty of shit is going right. i may not have all the answers, but i sure as hell have a shit ton of good going on while i'm looking for the answers.

in the middle of all the stress and medial shit, it's time to remember the good:

i don't have to worry about house payments or losing a house for my kids when shit hits the fan. i have ZERO house payments. that's pretty fucking nice.

i don't have to worry about losing transportation. my car is new(ish) and totally paid for. it's in great condition and very safely gets me where i need to go.

even with not the greatest tires on said car- the roads/conditions have been ok enough for me to get back and forth to work without incident while there have been numerous accidents, slide offs, deaths, and other problems already this year.

i may not LOVE all my jobs, but i have several jobs.  in an economy where way too many people are out of work and losing houses and cars and everything else, i'm pretty damn lucky to have a paycheck that covers all my bills. if there weren't horrible bosses and horrible jobs, half the movies in the world would never have been made. i'm not giving up on looking for something that is better hours and provides insurance, but i'm also going to remember that i'm pretty damn lucky that i have a place to go every morning. even if i can't remember which one on which day.

even though i'm not the healthiest right now, i'm still damn lucky. my health issue isn't life threatening (right now), it doesn't require multiple doctors visits, it doesn't require expensive daily medications, i'm not in constant pain, i'm not suffering at all outside the occasional attack which i've been learning how to prevent. it will be expensive to fix, i'm still not sure how/if that's going to happen, but i'm surviving in the mean time.

i have AMAZEBALLS friends that have been helping me get through this stuck spot. i have people that check in with me when i get too quiet, encourage me to get out of the house and help me have an amazing time while i'm out, and who listen and encourage without patronizing or minimizing. i'm really, REALLY damn lucky to have the circle that i have right now. they're all very logical, level headed, honest, and REAL. they've pointed out when i'm right and also when i'm wrong. they've reminded me that shit happens and that it's ok to be sad, but they're also not going to let me stay stuck forever. they see the good in me and are almost obnoxious making me see it and admit it too. near, far, old, new, i've got some really great people and that is rare (and took a long time to find).

i have two really great spawns who, aside from occasionally doing the typical brother thing, are really easy going. things are pretty even keel 90% of the time and the other 10% gets rough but we've made it through this far. they're pretty damn healthy, smart, damn good kids. they're old enough now to help around the house, cook the occasional meal for themselves, and be left alone so i can enjoy the occasional grown up night out.

SO. end of the day, i have great kids, a paycheck, a house, a car, not the best but passable health, great friends, and not too much to bitch about.

i need to dial in a few of the big pieces, work on myself, keep taking steps forward. BUT. it's good to remember the positives in the mean time.

plus, if the world really does end tomorrow at least i'll leave on a positive note. always a good thing.

sludge

it's been a long time since i've posted a light/fun blog. i was going to apologize for that, but life hasn't exactly been light or fun lately and i need to quit "should-ing" myself about what to write or feel.

i should be getting over london.

i should be enjoying the holidays.

i should be...

fuck all that. i'm having a fuck of a last few weeks. things are the hardest they've been in a while and i'm not going to apologize or feel bad for admitting that.

i've been trying not to let myself get stuck in a pity party. i've been trying to go about my day and just let things feel like normal. it's fucking exhausting. right here, right now, things are not okay and i'm not going to pretend they are.

i am working on making things better. i'm not sitting here just wallowing. this isn't about poor me, how do i get out of this. i'm already working on it. but for a moment, i'm going to just flat say: THIS, this part right here, it sucks. and it's okay to feel bad.

i'm not happy at my jobs. sorry if my bosses happen to be reading this. i don't like working so many different places and still barely patching by. i don't like waking up on a saturday in a panic because i can't remember which office i'm supposed to be at. i don't like that i can't even cover my own ass insurance wise even though it's available at both jobs. i don't like that i need to find ANOTHER new job. i don't like this much change. notice please that the jobs themselves aren't the problem. i like where i work. i like my jobs. i like the people i work with. i DON'T like that i put myself in this corner. i don't like that i feel horrible knowing that i need to leave sooner than later to take care of myself and my kids. i don't like the pending feeling of walking away from people that took a chance on me and helped me get through a damn hard spot. i don't like that i have to go back to a corporate (or equivalent) grind. i don't like the idea of another first day. i don't like the idea of another new set of people to get used to. but i know i have to make a change. i need insurance. i need solid hours. i need to know each day when i wake up where i'm supposed to be. i need to be a grown up again.

speaking of needing insurance: it sucks giant balls that A) i'm fucking sick. B) i have to apply and prove how broke i am to try to get approved to maybe be put on a waiting list for surgery C) i have giant fucking bills already piling up from the ER trip, the doctor trip, the prescriptions. i know surgery will be a few days off work, which means cuts to the paychecks. i'm too poor to be sick, but according to the paperwork i make too much money to get assistance. i HATE the looks i get when i say i don't have rent or a car payment. well, if you can afford a house, what are you doing in our offices? ummm...everyone died and i got one check, one time and THOUGHT i was doing the right thing. holy fuck has that decision bit me in the ass more than a few times already. i fucking hate that i'm scared to eat food. sure, it's nifty that i've already dropped 15 pounds but i HATE that i never know what will wake me up in the middle of the night in crazy pain. i fucking hate that if shit goes sideways between now and the possible waiting list, there's no plan B. MAYBE a hospital will do surgery if it's an emergency situation. MAYBE. in the meantime- when was the last time my will was updated? what would happen to the spawns? why the fuck did i ever give up my desk jockey job with good insurance and plenty of sick leave? i hate how irresponsible it makes me feel. i hate how helpless it makes me feel. i hate all of this fucking stupid bullshit. all over a fucking extra body part that no one needs anyway. seriously evolution- couldn't have taken care of this a few thousand years ago for me?

and here's the big one: you knew it was coming. i'm still working through the london trip.

it's killing me. in strange ways. when i said it would be a life changing trip, i had no idea what that could possibly mean.

there's two parts to this one, and it's going to get ugly and dark. welcome to my brain the last few weeks. it's not a good place to be.

part one: new york: we've been keeping in touch. i've been trying to dial back and just be a friend and a support. i'm doing a shitty job at it. i care so much about him that it's killing me holding back everything. i want to just say what i feel and all that girl crap- especially on days like today watching another huge national tragedy happen. i know too damn well how short life is. i want to be able to say what i feel when i feel it because i've learned the hard fucking way you more often than not don't get the second chance to say it. but i know at the same time he's not in the right place to hear it. i don't know if or when he will be. i do know that we've had very limited text conversations since i've been there. i haven't "seen" him on skype once since then. we haven't talked via phone or skype at all. and i know he has no clue what my brain has been doing since i got on the plane home. he has no clue all the crap that i've been working through. he has no clue how much this whole thing is tearing me apart. and he shouldn't right now. he's already got enough shit he's dealing with- he doesn't need my emotional baggage on top of it. and so i'm stuck in this horrible place of not being able to say anything and just being WRECKED. i don't know how to just be a friend when i care this much about someone. and i know this will sound like a petulant child, but it doesn't seem fair that i should have to stuff my emotions away and be this miserable just because he's not ready for it right now. yes, i just said it doesn't seem fair. because normally life is just so fair.
and it's killing me not to be able to talk or text to him more often and more than "how was your day" "busy" type crap. the worst part checks in on a level 10 crazy girl level- the app that i use to text him shows the last time someone was on line. i can see that he's been in the app. i can see he's been checking his phone and not responding to or starting a conversation. like right now: open the app and it shows he last checked in at 430 this evening. i haven't heard from him since wednesday night. do you have any idea what that does to a girl brain?
and i know there’s the argument of just getting over it and kicking him to the curb. how do you do that to someone you’ve invested 8 years in? especially when they’re going through some honestly TERRIBLE shit that can fuck any person up and change everything about the way they respond to things and their day to day interactions. i can’t give up on him and honestly- i don’t want to. i still hang on to the fact that when shit hit the fan, i was the one he called and wanted to talk to. i hang on to the fact that the whole time i was there he kept saying how glad he was to have me sitting next to him. he liked looking over and seeing me. i can’t dismiss that after 8 years, seeing him again was smooth and seamless. how often does that happen? after that amount of time you can just pick up right where you left off? i can’t get over him smiling at me and telling me i’m gorgeous. i can’t get over all the strange, random things that make him totally perfect for me. we have the same fucking cereal bowls. sounds stupid, but seriously- we both have the same tony the tiger cereal bowl. dumbest thing on earth but it’s still a thing. i made his coffee exactly right the first try. hell, his dog didn’t even bark at me once (and put her toy in my suitcase within an hour of being there). i just. i can’t give up. but i haven’t found a way to survive it yet either.

then there’s this other part of it.

this has nothing to do with new york oddly enough. but everything to do with the trip.

when i came home i dissected every part of every moment trying to find answers in speculation. i’m a virgo. it’s what we do. we over analyze and drive ourselves insane trying to find a concrete answer to everything even when there is no answer. i picked apart everything. even this idea: we had sex once when we got there, then his back hurt too much to be able to do it again. he did try one other time but just couldn’t. so. hmmm. was it because his back really was hurt? or was his  back a convenient excuse to get out of having sex with me? did my body change too much from the last time he saw me? was he no longer attracted? was i not good enough? was it too soon to have someone new in his bedroom after his wife leaving? you can imagine all the dark corners a crazy girl brain can wander off into.

the question itself: injury vs excuse, is a moot point. i don’t know. i don’t know what was going on in his head. i can speculate all day long but unless i ask new york directly that’s a question i’ll never have an answer for. at this point it doesn’t matter. there’s argument in my head as to if it ruined or saved the trip. how would i have felt if i had gone over there and it HAD been the crazy sexcapade i planned on? would i have just felt like a cheap tart that paid all that money just for sex? the world’s most backwards call girl? maybe it was better that we were able to just spend time together without all the sex muddying the waters?

but question as to why we didn’t have sex: doesn’t matter.

here’s what matters. i asked one of my oldest friends the question. he has no better answer than i do. it’s all speculation. even harder for him- it’s one sided information. but he is a guy- he may have a better idea of how another guy brain works and 99% of his readings have been right, but it’s still just speculation.

here’s how the conversation went:

me: that’s the hardest part for me. i just want to know an honest why. if i wasn’t what he remembered after 8 years, fine. just say so. if i was too fat, just say so. whatever it is, just shoot me and put me out of my misery.

him: yup. i agree. when did he tell you about his back? just before you left?

me: after i got there. yeah. ouch. good excuse to avoid having sex with someone you’re not into.

him: yup. that’s exactly it too.


“that’s exactly it too.”

my very worst, most painful thought about myself- that someone, a very important someone would lie to me to get out of having to be with me- that’s exactly it.

i know he didn’t mean it to hurt, he was just speculating and being honest with me, but holy fuck did that open a pandoras box of self image issues.

so, i’ve had that rattling around in my head for the last week.

i have a hard time with my body. i want to love myself the way i am. the person i see in my head and in the mirror is a gorgeous creature. i take care of myself, i do my make up carefully, i try really hard to pick out clothes that fit my body and make me look my best. i’m a terribly vain creature. i hate leaving the house without at least mascara. i worry about my hair and my nails. i don’t want to be submitted for the people of walmart blog. in the mornings when i’m done with getting ready i generally feel GOOD about myself. i like what i see. i’m ok with my size and shape. then something happens- sometimes i’ll see a picture of myself. sometimes i’ll look in the mirror when i get home and realize something went tragically wrong at some point and no one warned me. i really do take THE WORST pictures on earth. that isn’t part of my vanity, that’s a cold truth. i’ve had friends take pictures of me and say WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED? so when i’m out and about on the town doing tweet ups and things then get home and see the pictures- it’s hard. i’m learning not to let it get to me, whatever is in the picture is how people see me all the time even if it’s not how i see myself.

BUT. to think that the image of myself that i hate the most- to think that’s really why someone wouldn’t want to be with me. to think that they can’t even glimpse the person i see in the mirror in the mornings- that fucking HURTS. i want someone that sees me as the beautiful creature i see in myself. i want them to see the sexy girl dancing in the kitchen making dinner, not a beached whale having a seizure. i want someone to see the sexy person that i feel like i am even if perhaps i don’t look exactly like i do in my head.

and i know- big shock that a guy would dismiss a girl because of her looks. oldest news story around. hell, i had a lover once tell me straight out that i was too fat to date. it was ok to sleep with me and hang out at my house, but he couldn’t be seen at clubs with me.

so this isn’t the first time i’ve heard this. not a new shocking revelation.

but there’s something about the way this one happened. coming from one of my closest people about the man that i care the most about. it’s the worst thing in the world from the two most important people.

i hate my body right now for being sick. i hate that i’m genetically not a petite girl. i hate myself for not being more proactive about getting in shape. i hate myself for being so vain and worried about it all. i hate that it affects how people see and interact with me.

i don’t need another reason to hate myself. i’m doing a pretty damn good job of it all on my own.

but to hear that. to have it be what changed the trip? to hear that it’s not just me having a paranoid thought in my head that YES, it’s exactly what a guy would think? that’s a whole black, destructive level of hate i haven’t felt towards myself in a long time.

and i’ve been trying to work through it but it’s one of those things that the instant i even begin to think about it i can just feel this dark spiral setting in and i don’t have time for that. i have kids, i have jobs, i have a magazine, i have shit to do. i can’t sit around paralyzed trying to work through that feeling. i don’t have the time or the ability to hide under the covers and be sad or hurt. better to just stick it on the back burner. funny thing about the back burner though, it can’t be ignored forever. especially when there’s piles of stress coming from every direction coupled with lack of sleep, more than normal pain levels, suddenly the back burner is the front corner burner on high and boiling over. “that’s exactly it.” i’ve been mulling it over every day. hating myself a little more every day. i’ve been trying to dismiss it but damn it all if the bad stuff isn’t harder to get rid of than any good thing. and at this point it’s outlasted my small reserve of good things. and all i can see right now is the negative. the lack of text messages. too many questions, no answers. the negative body images taking over. the negative self talk. the negative beliefs. i’m starting to drown in them. i guess writing about it is my way of clawing back to the surface. maybe it will rattle around less stuck to paper.

i don’t have many answers right now. i’m working on the ones i can. i’m working on a better job that takes care of ish. i’m working on getting the medical crap resolved somehow.

this last one though- both parts of it. still not sure how to take it on. how to make it better. which for a natural fixer...it’s a little stressful not being able to come up with an answer or a solution. vicious cycle that bit. stress about an issue. more stress about not being able to resolve the stress. stress about the new stress from not being able to resolve the initial stress. quite dizzying and draining.

but i’m not giving up. it isn’t in me, for better or worse. i’ll keep looking for answers and solutions. find a way to hate myself less and let go of the rest of it. i can’t change what’s happened. until my delorean gets back from the shop at least. i can’t force now to be magically and suddenly better. and worry/stress is like a rocking chair- whole lot of nothing that gets you nowhere. maybe the answer is simply that there is no answer and i have to be okay with that. maybe the answer is not yet or be patient. the good lord himself knows how little patience i have. the line was too long to wait to get any more when they were passing it out. maybe this is a chance for me to see my worse self image and learn to get over it. maybe it’s a wake up call- having the worst things about yourself confirmed can be a powerful motive for change.

i’m working through the sludge. i don’t particularly like it but i’m not simply going to stay stuck in it either.

#londoncalling FOLLOW UP

i’m a fucking idiot. but not for the reasons i last wrote about. maybe it’s being back on my home turf, maybe it’s the real food talking, or a nice hot shower after 26 hours of traveling.

it’s probably from talking to great friends and getting some feedback other than my own voices in my head bickering back and forth. SCREW THEM. I’M TAKING ALL THE CREDIT.

AND THE BLAME.

i’m a fucking twatwaffle.

jesus holy hell did i fuck the last post up.

let’s all just take a minute to enjoy this moment of clarity that comes after removing my head from my own ass, shall we?

let’s play a little game called: “BACK THE FUCK UP BITCH.”

remember that first day when new york called me? those few, brief moments between what he actually called me for and the fucking circus that i turned it into?

LET’S EXPLORE THAT. SHALL WE?

i’m a fucking idiot. _ME_ of all people should have caught on a little sooner. fuck.

let’s go back to the very first conversation: "hey, how is everything going? things are going shitty for me. just need somebody to talk to." 

marriage: over, father passed away, 7 month deployment, needed a friend to talk to.

oh jesus did i fuck this up.
 
how did i take all that and twist it into this fucking all about me story?

an old friend reached out in the middle of a horrible, HORRIBLE shit storm and i just added more shit to it.

fuck. me. running.

i’ve been there. did the marriage going to shit. done the father passing away. never had to deal with the whole being at war for 7 months thing- can’t even begin to imagine.

and i somehow twisted all that into a poor me, i spent money on lingerie that went unused pity party? holy fuck. how did i fuck that one up?
 
i have a friend going through the worst shit life can throw at a person and i want to be pissy about not going to a cafe for tea and mother fucking crumpets?

i can’t even begin to tell you how sick to my stomach i feel right now. i fucked this up royally.

add in that he's in a crazy amount of pain that even prescription medications won't take an edge off? or that the one time he did get his back to pop and it made him pass out and fall sleep for the next 10 hours...

funny thing? i just wrote a fucking magazine article about being there for soldiers that come home from war.

awesome.

i’m a fucking idiot.

worst part? hindsight is a fucking bitch. he’s been trying to tell me- talked about trying to find friends. talked about how he spent seven months sending planes off to do bomb runs- feeling that in a way he’s responsible for the deaths of hundreds, thousands of people. talking about how strange things were going to texas for his fathers services and having to deal with his step mom.

and i got mad over what?

he wanted a friend. i’ve been his friend for eight years.

THAT IS ALL THIS TRIP SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABOUT.

_I_ alone added all the other crap to it. _I_ alone fucked it all up by trying to make it something he’s not ready to deal with in any way, shape or form. _I_ fucked up royal.

SO.

i’m going to bed. i’m going to sleep. i’m going to try to figure out how to repair this fuck up and be the friend that he’s been asking for from the very beginning.

the rest may or may not come in time. THAT DOESN’T MATTER RIGHT NOW. what matters right now is that i have a friend in need. he came to me for support and i need to give that to him without all my baggage and crap attached.

honestly- switch shoes for a minute: if he had come to see me after my dad passed away and dropped on me what i just did to him- how would that have gone? and that was *JUST* a death. not the death after a deployment in the middle of a marriage issue.

perspective is a powerful thing- the picture can take on a whole different meaning when you take the time to look at it just a little different.

SO. i’ll say it again. dont get used to it- last time it will ever happen: I FUCKED UP. i made this my own twisted fairlytale bullshit. and i’m going to try like fuck to fix it.

#londoncalling

well, here it is, my last 12 hours in england.

and here i am, sitting here typing this.

so. that should about sum up how it’s gone.



i’m caught in this huge thunderstorm of emotions- between rationalization and pure emotion. i don’t know which way to let myself go. i don’t know if any of the directions are right.

i’m angry and resentful and hurt and heartbroken and hopeful and logical and tired and disappointed. not many of those are positive, i realize that. i’m trying like fuck to find some silver lining- i really am.

it hasn’t been a bad trip. lets say that up front. nothing terrible happened. flights all went smoothly over here- flight transitions were met, no sick problems, the phone change went smoothly, the flights were tolerable (but LONG). i’m hoping tomorrow headed home goes as well. it should be a little easier to sleep with the schedule and all- flying over i was running on my regular day hours and it was hard to sleep on an overnight flight that was only 5ihs in the afternoon my time. i landed, made it through customs, got the stamp in my passport, everything went smoothly.

when i made it out of the customs area, there he was waiting for me, my new york. leaning against the rails, big smile, big hug. we loaded the bags in the car and headed out of the airport. i don’t know quite what i was expecting- breakfast, a little sight seeing, a few *cough*detours*cough* on the way home- but we drove straight through to rougham- bits of scenery along the way, and we arrived at his house- an adorable townhouse. wish i had paid a bit more attention on the way here- i didn’t realize that would be the only scenery i’d see.

we did talk about sight seeing on the way up. i knew ahead of time that most of the places were a few hours drive both direction. there wasn’t anything i was really wanting to see, the weather wasn’t scheduled to be the best, the only thing i really wanted to do was get a tattoo while over here. we decided against shakespeare’s house- too far away, bad weather, not much to see. same for alice in wonderland and the castles and all that. i was just excited to be in england. be here with him. thought i’d get enough absorption through a local cafe, the pub he always talks about, maybe a dinner out, a bit of his little town.

i’ve been here since 8am (local time) on thursday and haven’t seen a damn thing. no pub, no cafe, no walk about, nothing. that was the first disappointment. i don’t really feel i’ve been anywhere. i’ve been in his house. i’ve seen his couch. it’s like i went over to a friends house down the street. nothing remarkable.

second disappointment: he injured his back a few weeks ago at work and has been in so much pain the whole time that NOTHING was possible. yes, NOTHING. he tried ibuprofen (even my rx ones from the recent ER trip), he tried icy hot, showers, stretching, nothing worked. he had HOPED it would go away by the time i got here but didn’t bother to see a doctor before hand or anything. normally this wouldn’t be so frustrating. people get hurt. it sucks. the bitch of it is i worked really damn hard to get here. i spent 7 fucking hours in an er (without insurance) to make sure i could be here in good(ish) condition. i spent a lot of time and money getting ready- all for nothing. all the lingerie i bought didn’t even come out of the suitcase. brazil? total waste. hair, nails, make up- pointless. YES, i realize how shallow it all sounds, but i was so excited to come. i wanted to look my best after 8 years. i worked really damn hard to be here. for him to be in pain the whole time because he doesn’t like doctors. it just...it hurt.

it’s not even the sex. it’s that he was in so much pain all he wanted to do was sit in his desk chair playing WOW because it was the only position he was comfortable in. there was no sight seeing, no going out. when he wasn’t at the computer, he was sleeping. he hasn’t been sleeping well recently although you’d never know it- 12 hours one night, 9 the next. then all day at the computer while i was on the couch next to him watching whatever was on tv. i bought a plane ticket, flew across an ocean, spent how many hours getting ready just to sit on a couch watching him play WOW for 4 days straight? granted, he’s not a traditional player (i think). he was able to hold kind of conversations while he played, and he would break every few hours to stretch or let the dog out. he would lean over for kisses while he played...

i feel like a fucking idiot. i flew half way across the country to watch him play computer for 4 days.

and there’s more.

we went to the grocery store one night since he had NO food in the house and we were both running on night owl hours so all restaurants and whatnot were closed most of our waking hours (most, not all but...yeah.). i couldn’t touch him while we were in the grocery store. small town. his mother in law, brother/sister in law, ex wife, friends, whatnot are all about. no telling who would see. and since no one really knows still that they’re divorcing it could cause problems.

oh yeah- by the way. they still haven’t told people they’re divorcing. did i forget to mention that? the divorce isn’t started. they still haven’t told people. she’s living with her mum , they’re separated, but that isn’t divorced. it isn’t even started being divorced. remember that idiot feeling? multiply it by a million. and my brain starts to go to that horrible dark place and i wonder if we haven’t gone to the pub because his back hurts or because he’s afraid of people seeing me. is that why we couldn’t go to coffee at 10am on sunday, a few of the daylight hours were were awake? because people in town might see? is that why he closed the living room door when the neighbors stopped by? not because the dog was barking but because he didn’t want them to see someone was here since they don’t know he and the wife have split? my mind is an evil, dark, mean place. it doesn’t help that i’ve been that girl before. i know what the signs are. i’ve been the one that wasn’t ok to be seen in public with. ive been the one that they didn’t want anyone to know about. this weekend felt all too familiar. and not in the good ways.

BUT.

i’m a stupid girl, there’s always a but. always a desperate claw at some salvation.

BUT, the whole time he’s said he’s so glad i’m here. he’s so excited to have me next to him. he’s so mad that his back is injured. he’s calling the doctor first thing on monday to get an appointment. he really hopes he gets re-stationed locally. he can’t wait to come see me this spring.

is it just bad timing? am i here too early? should i have waited a few months? should i have waited for things on his end to be “official”?

and i KNOW. i tried so fucking hard not to come over here with any expectations. i really, REALLY did. but i couldn’t help it. he wanted me to come. he asked me to come. he said he should have married me when he had the chance. he couldn’t wait for me to get here. and i knew better than to get my hopes up. i knew better than to expect the fairy tale ending no matter how desperately i wanted it. and i did. i wanted it so badly. i did have expectations coming here. i tried so hard not to, but i did. i wanted it to be this amazing trip. i wanted it to be england. i wanted it to be him. i wanted it so badly.

and here i am, my last few hours writing this while he’s at work. i’m waiting for him to get back and take me to the airport. it’s all done. it’s all gone. there no time left for any of it.

i came to england. i sat on a couch watching tv for four days. and now i’m coming home.

i still want to hope. i still think that maybe when it’s official and finalized on his end he’ll come see me in the spring and everything will be good then. maybe he’ll get stationed near me and it will work out then. maybe he really was just hurting so bad that’s why we didn’t go anywhere- nothing more, nothing less. maybe the base doctors really are that bad that going to them wouldn’t have made this weekend any better.

at least, at the end of the day i can say i did it- right? i can say that i went after the man i love (heaven help me, i do. so much it’s tearing me apart right now). i can say remember that time i flew to england? remember all the amazing things that happened to make the trip possible? even if the trip wasn’t that amazing, it’s still fucking amazing that i did it. i flew half way around the world. i got over being scared to say i wanted someone and came here (well, i haven’t said it to him, but that’s a different set of issues).

i’ve been on an adventure. not all adventures turn out perfectly. but the fact is, i still came here. i haven’t seen anything. i haven’t conquered anything- can’t quite get that tee shirt yet.

i’m still sorting. i have way too many hours flying to sort through things. maybe i’ll grow a pair and talk to him about how this all went for me on the way back to the airport. maybe i’ll lay it all on the line, even if it is too sappy, and tell him how i feel. maybe after some sleep and some real food i’ll have a different perspective. maybe...

this wasn’t the trip that i hoped for, even though i knew hoping was a bad thing and tried to prepare myself.

but, i keep reminding myself, it was a trip. it was going somewhere. taking a chance. so there’s that. i’m sure there will be more on this. i hope next time there’s a bit more positive. but there you have it. that’s how london’s been. forgive me please if i’m not ready to gush about it when i get back on my home turf. hopefully i’ll have a bit of time in the air port to at least snag a few touristy thing to at least show i’ve been here.

#londoncalling

so, what’s going on with london? well, funny you ask- it’s TWO DAYS AWAY.

(insert squee noises and happy dance here).

passport is in hand, tickets are waiting online, bags are packed (well, besides the last minute stuff), and i’m ready to leave on a jet plane.

yes, it gets more obnoxious from here.

it’s been weeks of amazing awesome, crazy stress, fear, hope, everything in between. bottom line: when something is meant to happen, it WILL happen. i really do believe there’s a time and a reason for everything, hell, i have it tattoed on my body. but never more than the last few weeks has that believe PROVED itself.

going to london didn’t just happen. it took a bit of effort. it took a few large miracles. here’s a few of the dirty details:

passport: i got my passport just a few days ago back in June of 1997. just a few days. it had long since expired, i’ve moved...oh...a *FEW* times since then. how the hell was i going to find it to renew it, and would i be able to get it in time even with the expedited?

YES and YES. literally less than 2 minutes of looking i found the old passport. it was in a basket of random crap by my bed. don’t even know. went to the post office to renew it, took a new picture (which looks surprisingly good), paid the *ouch* expedited fee, sent it off and crossed my fingers. the told me it would take 2-3 weeks- three weeks would put it ON the day i was leaving. *panic*

EIGHT DAYS. that’s it. eight days and my new passport was in the mail waiting for me. the new one came in before the old one was returned. step one: completed.

plane ticket: i don’t know about anyone else, but i’m not the girl with an extra thousand just sitting around. i SHOULD be. i get that. savings accounts are nifty. but when you’re *just* starting to get regular paychecks again and you spent all your money on a house and repairs and life...well, it’s paycheck to paycheck around my house and last time i checked the trees in the yard are only fruit trees, not money trees. still working on that. so HOW did i manage a plane ticket to london?

i had a honda element that i was driving. good car, was my dream car at one point. researched it for years before buying one. drove it. loved it. started to hate it. REALLY HATED IT. simple little things: barn doors- nifty for moving/getting things in and out. HELL in a parking lot with a kiddo in the back seat. four seats: sounds cool, there’s only 3 of us, but what if the kids want to have a friend over? or what if i want to carpool with people? or if i’m going out to dinner with a friend and their kid? SCREWED. also: why does any car newer than 2000 NOT have heated side mirrors for winter time? and why do i only have TWO cup holders? little things make a big difference. great car, not for me. i’d been thinking about trading her in/selling her for quite a while. had her listed on craigslist several times. nothing. hmmm.

there’s a car lot two blocks away from my house with one of those “cash for cars” things written on the window. uh huh. i would love to be prison raped without lube, how did they know? thought i’d check it out just to see. drove onto the lot, drove off 3 hours later with a new car and $1700 in my pocket.

yeah. that happened. traded my 2010 element in, drove off with a 2010 dodge caliber- close to the same miles, more space, better gas mileage, LOVE driving the caliber. been looking at those since i started thinking about trading the element. here’s hoping another dream car doesn’t bite me in the ass.  BUT. they paid me the difference of the trade in IN CASH. how often does that happen? seriously. no car payment, better car, cash in hand. LONDON PLANE TICKET PURCHASED. step two: complete.

so. i have my passport, i have my plane ticket- what else is there?

oh yeah- there’s ME.

i’ve been getting sick off on an for a few months. wake up at 2 in the morning, throw up a few time, sit around in pain for a few hours, go back to my life. thought i had it figured out- knew it happened after eating certain foods. just figured i was getting old. getting old sucks. then it started happening more often. with different foods. oh crap.

last monday it hit pretty bad. i finally did some research and thought i had it dialed in to my gallbladder. well. that sucks. what can you do? monday night was pretty rough. made it through. worried a little about the trip, but figured i had at least a few weeks, maybe a month before it would hit again if the pattern held (except the fact that it had already happened a few times in a few weeks...the OLD pattern...).

then it hit again friday night. BAD. well, shit. i can’t get on a plane if this is happening every few days. NOW WHAT?

i don’t have insurance. i can’t just call up, make an appointment, get checked out. i DID make an appointment with the community health clininc. for december 5th. well, shit. that’s not now. and that’s not before london. SHIT SHIT SHIT.

FUCK. FINE.

checked into an emergency room. the pain was the worst yet, it wasn’t going away, and it was twice in one week.

SEVEN, yes SEVEN hours later i checked out of the ER. bad news: it is indeed my gallbladder. as the ultrasound tech put it: you’re pretty packed full honey (stones).

GOOD NEWS: no infection. if i watch what i eat i *should* be good at least until my appointment on the 5th when i can check about financial aid to get the damn thing removed.

BETTER NEWS: i can still go to london.

THANK HEAVENS. somewhere around hour five in the ER i broke down in tears waiting for someone to see me. terrified i was going to have to cancel, have emergency surgery, all the worst case scenarios. that’s what three days of no sleep, extreme pain, and sitting in a shitty ER waiting room that long will do to you (to make matters worse: the TV was stuck on disney channel in the waiting room and BET in the exam room. why do they hate people so much?).

SO. passport: check. ticket: check. me: check (ish...i have pain meds just in case).

i started packing my bag last night. it’s getting real. less than 48 hours and i’ll be on a plane.

HOLY SHIT.

less than 48 hours.

i can’t even put into words how much i just want to SEE him. i mean texting is great, skype is fucking awesome. but to SEE him. IN PERSON. to be able to hug him. no time delay between texts, no crappy connection making skype freeze up. HIM. in front of me. after eight years. it might sound stupid, but it makes me tear up and my whole body aches. emotions this strong are a strange thing. especially for me. over a guy.

i’m trying really hard to just enjoy the fact that i’m going to london. i get to see england. 100 acre woods. alice in wonderland. beatrix potter. shakespeare. canterbury tales. all the things i studied and read about. this is where they happened. this is where they were created. i’ve always wanted to travel. and i am. and that in itself is so exciting.

i don’t want to put any expectations on anything else. i just want to go and see.

how could i say no to this adorable LuLu purse?