brain vomit

obligatory review

2012-01-08T23:10:00.000-08:00

well. it's a week into a new year. i suppose i should take some time to reflect and learn and all that crap.

overall: 2011: not too shabby. not great, but for sure didn't kick my ass like the two previous years.

month by month shall we?

january: whatever. can't remember.

february: quit my job. the start of the new, different, year of changes. so many goals, so many things to do.

march: i'm bored.

april: i'm bored. oh, and lost grandma to bone cancer. sudden, fast, but hell, she made it to 88.

may: I BOUGHT A HOUSE. this is what happens when you're bored.

june: worked on the house.

july: worked on the house.

august: moved into the house. started making coffee. started working as a secretary.

september: kids back to school. hired/fired contractors that fucked me over.

october: halloween. i'm sure there was something else.

november: family holidays, whatnot. oh yeah: no more work.

december: more family holidays. more work followed by no work.

and here we are back to january again. there was so much more in there. looking back over blogs, looking back at kids, friends, pictures, there was some really good things and some really terrible things. overall though it was a pretty ok year.

now. the important things: what did 2011 teach me?

death sucks. if you haven't been expecting it, if you have, if it pounces on you, whatever. it wasn't any easier to watch my grandmother get sick and fade than it was to wake up one day and hear my dad was gone. you never want it to happen. you never want to let someone go. 25, 27, 55, 88 years...it's never enough.

family sucks: i still haven't been able to write about it but there was a huge shift in what remains of my family this year: in a way i lost all the family that i have left. i faced a really damn hard truth that my mother will never believe me, will never stand up for me, and would rather lose my kids and i than face some unpleasantness in her home. i also learned that my brother will unequivocally side with her. that sucks. it’s the only blood i have left and i don’t really have them. kind of a sucker punch, but at the same time i know i’m not alone, i do have good people and the world does go on.

contractors suck: i’ll expand this one to include: way too many people suck. i found out the hard way this year that there are way too many people out there willing to take the easy way, screw people over, do every dirty damn thing they can with no remorse. i had “friends” that disappeared when i stopped paying for every thing they could think of. i had a company i had been loyal to for 10 years fuck me without blinking twice. i had contractors that took advantage of my trust and left me broke and without a bathroom. i watched friends get screwed over. i watched my kids get screwed over. i watched employers get screwed over. it really sucks when you work so damn hard to do the right and best thing you can at all times only to realize you’re one of the very few. i guess i’ve was protected in my little cubicle world before. being out and around people now you see how many of them really do honestly suck. i LOVE that the people i’ve allowed in my life aren’t like this. i would like to believe the old saying: like attracts like. we all have a few exceptions, shit happens, but i’ve found some really awesome people that bust their ass and would do anything they could to help each other. i’m finding out how rare and precious that is and i like that i’ve learned to appreciate it more now.

fear is my biggest obstacle: i want to do so many things. but i’m scared. and i haven’t kicked my own ass enough to get over it. i’m honestly scared of dating- what changes will i have to make? what if he’s terrible? what if my kids don’t like him? what if they DO like him? what if i get rejected? what if i DON’T get rejected? i’m a pansy! it’s easier to stay single and bitch than step into the unknown. i’m afraid of failure: i want to start a business. i want to do all these great things in my head and work and make it amazing. but what if people don’t get what i’m trying to do? what if i don’t get customers? what if i fail and have to close? what if i’m a success and it’s too much to handle? what if i get shitty employees that try to fuck me over? what if i get good people and i can’t support them? and writing- remember all the writing i was going to do this year? i’m terrified of it. all the blogs that are still in my head- there’s a LOT of heavy subjects up there. what if people don’t like the serious side instead of the wry humor? what if i say something i shouldnt? what if it crosses a line and i can’t go back? i’ve been stuck since this summer. there’s one GIANT road block and i can’t decide if i need to bust it down and lay all the shit bare or skirt around it or avoid it all together. what if i say things about myself that causes me to lose more people? lose my support system because it’s just too much?

so. 2012: the year i kick fear’s ass.

also: a friend told me this year: “i believe the way you start the new year sets the whole tone for the year.”

i spent quite a bit of time thinking about that on new years eve. i wanted to do something different. i want this year to be different. i DID go out (just for a few minutes, and no adult parties...baby steps). i DID do something different (no disney channel). it was movies with my kids and sparkling cider at midnight followed by a movie with a very good friend and waking up in the morning to a hot cup of coffee and happiness. not a bad start at all. different, GOOD, and exactly what i want to make 2012 be. different and GOOD.

i’m applying for jobs. i’m working on my house. i working on writing more. i’m working on kicking fear’s ass. i’m watching my kids grow up. i’m learning to ask for help. i’m learning to accept help when it’s offered. i’m learning to discuss things as they happen instead of reaching an point of no return. i own a house and damn it, i want to own my life too. so. it’s a few days late, but welcome to 2012.

i had a date(ish)

2011-12-17T19:41:00.000-08:00

gather around darlings, i have a delightful holiday tale that is sure to warm your hearts:

(or at least make you laugh/pee a little so SOME part of you is warmish)

i had a “date” last night.

before you get all excited for me it must be stated: this was not a “you’re hot and i want to take you out” date, this was a very old friend in town for the holidays, knows i’m single and rarely get to go out on this type of event, in the spirit of the holidays threw me a bone “date”.

so. you know. go me.

now, before i get too far into it you need to know that in spite of everything i actually had a pretty good time. it was good to be out, it was good to feel pretty, and it was good to not have to buy my own drinks/dinner/lap dances for once (we’ll get back to that last one in a minute).

so the friend in question is/was actually staying at my house for a few days while in town. he got to town thursday evening, friday we hung out a bit before he had to go do some things, then we were both back at my house around 3 (with both spawns) hanging out. 3 in the afternoon. it was actually a little before 3- yes, time is important. you see, between the time he got back to my house and the time i went to take the small spawn to a friends for a sleep over at 5 he was already SIX drinks ahead of me: two shooter bottles of gentlemans jack, firefly on the rocks, three screwdrivers. nothing lets your date know you’re excited about taking her out like getting completely smashed before it even starts.

i get back from dropping the small spawn off and start to get ready. a date is a date and damn it, i wanted to look nice. pretty skirt, nice strapless top, big girl shoes, big hair, big make up, i pulled out ALL the stops. while i’m doing this he has another drink and a bit of green because that of course lets a lady know you can’t wait to be alone with her- a completely altered reality. awesome. (also lets her know that she will be driving for the evening and not able to partake in any drinks herself. even better).

while i’m getting ready i was complimented several times along the lines of “you look hot. it’s nice to have my escort look so hot. you’re my escort for the evening, right? i’m paying for everything and getting sex after, so you’re my escort, right?”

i just love compliments. they make me glow.

yes, i still went through with the date. i’m that desperate. again: go me.

so we decide on a spot for dinner and start the evening out. dinner was actually delightful at a very nice restaurant but we forgot to factor in one thing: a gentleman’s club was on the agenda for the evening and the restaurant we had picked tended to be a little (as in the nile is just a little river) heavy handed on the garlic and onion. PERFECT for an evening of up close and personal with beautiful women (and the supposed sexy time at the end of the evening).

conversation was great through dinner. we talked about how long we had know each other, how we’ve both grown over the years, real, good, meaningful conversation. a little shocking all considered.

after dinner (one more drink) it was still early and the friends he planned on meeting at the club weren’t ready yet so we decided to drive around a bit (after stopping for a coors tall boy). this turned into about an hour and a half driving around in BFE, in pea soup fog, with NO IDEA where we were at. not the worst, but for sure not exactly a nice night out type thing. I WILL SAY: we did use this time to continue talking about things which was really nice. one caveat: you just never know how much is real conversation and how much is “altered state of mind” conversation. not really sure how much of it he remembers or meant. so. yeah.

we finally decide that we’ve had enough driving around and we’ll just go to his buddy’s house and wait for him to get ready to go to the club. translation: we’ll go park out back of his buddies house and attempt teenage car sex until his buddy is ready to go.

oh yeah. i just said that.

two adults. one car. a whole lot of (one sided) alcohol. a fuck ton of awkward.

let me just say: no matter how old you are, no matter how big your car is, no matter what you may think: CAR SEX IS NEVER A GOOD IDEA. add in a little alcohol and GOSH DARN IT, wouldn’t you now, things just didn’t quite go as planned.

we finally head out to the gentleman’s club and the rest of the evening was pretty good. see, i’m one of those girls who LIKES other girls. i think women are beautiful and i truly admire the dancers at the gentleman’s club. they are (with some exceptions) athletic, brave, sensual women who are damn smart and good at what they do. i’ve had many a conversation about this with men, women, and some dancers. they truly are damn good hustlers, sales women, business women and the best ones do this with little to no (visible) effort so that the drooling neanderthals around the stage think they’re being awesome getting this girls attention while she’s making bank and taking money that they’re willingly throwing in her direction. plus: boobies! yes, i said it.

i was able to enjoy a very nice lap dance from a beautiful woman which all the men were jealous of (yes, mine was longer than yours deal with it). i happened to run into a friend i hadn’t seen in way too long and was able to catch up on a little chatting amidst all the distractions. i got to watch boys be stupid boys which is always fun. finally i got to watch my date ingest quite a few more drinks which assured that i was safe from the sexy time at the end of the evening that he had been planning on.

so the “date” ended well enough but i want to point out a few things that really were a train wreck that i managed to ignore.

men: don’t EVER refer to your date as your escort for the evening unless you looked up an ad in the yellow pages, ordered her and had to put a credit card on reserve for the evening to happen. it is damn demeaning, angering, and honestly purely insulting. i understand that all you want out of the evening is the sexy time at the end and you’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that happens. one way to make sure it DOESN’T happen is to let me know up front in plain english that’s all you think i am/am good for.

don’t EVER let a woman know you can’t afford to take her out but you’re doing it anyway. nothing ruins the evening as quick as “i know i’ll hate myself tomorrow for how much i spend on you tonight.” AWE.SOME. and YES, this was actually said to me.

also, along the same line: don’t ever let your date know you had to borrow money to take her out. FROM. YOUR. MOM. this one didn’t happen to me but it DID happen to a darling friend of mine a few weeks ago. a guy actually had the half balls to say he wanted to take her out for a drink but had to ask him mom for a loan first. if you can’t afford it, find a different option. buy a sixer and rent a movie. it’s a LOT cheaper, less noisy, and more one on one time. plus you don’t have the whole awkward: “he borrowed money from his mommy” vibe the whole evening.

i understand having a few drinks or a little herbal relaxation to mellow you out before a date. WITHIN REASON. getting smashed before she even starts getting ready is NOT a good thing. really. nothing tells a girl you dont want to go out with her more than having to be blasted to go through with it.

NEVER. EVER. suggest car sex. EVER.

don’t complain that the girls lap dance was longer than yours. enjoy the fact that you have a woman who is excited to be at the club with you and that you even got to watch her getting a lap dance. i mean how fucking sexy is that? getting to watch a girl get a LONG lap dance and enjoy it? and you complained?

don’t make her wake up in the morning to you flogging the dolphin. wrestling the cyclops. choking the chicken. FUCKING MASTURBATING IN HER BED RIGHT NEXT TO HER.

hmm. sorry. probably should have given you a little warning about that last one.

*sigh* and people wonder why i’m single.

quit(ish)

2011-12-04T23:31:00.000-08:00

there’s been so much going on lately and yet nothing at the same time. it’s been good and bad and creative and stressful and boring and all of everything rolled into one hot mess.

this weekend i’ve been laying pretty low while battling a huge round of depression and decision making and general yuk.

i’ve been making so many plans lately and having just as many fall through on me. it’s been hard. i was going to help one of my bosses open a stove shop that he’s been waiting to do for a long time. things stalled on that. then i was going to start my own pay-by-the-day secretarial business and things stalled on that. i found out one of the coffee shops i work at was possibly open for purchase and then that fell through. i’ve applied for mortgages, planned out three businesses, worked at two coffee shops and helped manage two other businesses. i’m learning social media and online advertising for businesses on the fly. i’m taking messages, making appointments, dealing with people who have never met me but still hate me (you should see the hate mail letter). in the middle of all this i’m dealing with a moody teenager and an 8 year old who HATES everything.

i’m tired. i’m stressed. i’m frustrated and i have the window ledge full of empty wine bottles to prove it.

i had to quit(ish) one of my jobs today. i’m so frustrated with this decision. i feel like a huge failure. i’ve never quit before. i made the decision to leave my last job but it wasn’t because i couldn’t do it or i wasn’t successful at it. i left for family and i left on good terms. not so much this time. this time i was a flat failure. the worst part is that it wasn’t even really my failure. i had a boss that had little to no respect for me which makes things, well, impossible. every appointment i set was either ignored or he would be late to. messages i took were ignored. my calls were sent to voice mail (why bother leaving a message when i’m the one that reviews them?). clients would call asking why their appointment was missed or their call not returned and i ended up looking like an incompetent idiot. i HATE being made to look like an idiot. i’m damn good at what i do. DAMN GOOD. but there was no way for the clients to know that. i looked like the bumbling secretary that couldn’t take a message or schedule an appointment without screwing up. i was busting my ass getting advertising, social media, web listings, appointments, taking messages, organizing, trying to make things work smoother and take the stress off him and all it was doing was quadrupling my stress. why am i taking calls at 7am on sunday morning when he could care less? why am i answering his texts at 10pm about appointments or billings when i had tried to reach him all day?

i stopped to talk to him today to let him know where i was at. this is a HUGE thing for me. normally i just pull the plug and walk away. generally there’s a large emotional explosion and a grand finale and no going back. this time i tried to be different. i tried to talk about it before i was at the explosion point. i calmly told him everything i just wrote out above. i told him that i was frustrated but if things could change i would still be on board.

and then there was silence. stone. cold. silence.

so. i left.

there was apparently nothing left to say.

about an hour later i had a text message asking me how to take the call forwarding off.

so. i guess that’s that. i didn’t mean to quit. i was asking for change and a little respect. i guess i got my answer.

so. nifty.

less stress. that’s a good thing, right?

BUT. that was pretty much the last hope of avoiding cubicle world again. the last hope of something that would work out and pay the bills and let me still be a mom. so. now it’s back to corporate robot world. yuk.

and in the middle of all that did i mention my teenager is failing school and my 8 year old is being bullied every day AND failing school?

i guess i’m failing at the staying home and being a mom thing too. awe.some.

and did i mention that i’m still single?

why the fuck isn’t there more wine at this pity party?

SILVER LINING:

i have a washer and dryer installed and working.

i’ve learned how to make a damn good cup of coffee in the last few months.

i’ve learned how to do some awesome local online advertising.

i have my office unpacked and put together.

i have a good house that has kept us warm through some damn cold nights already this winter.

i have a good car that handles winter time like it’s a regular summer day.

i’ve got great people that aren’t ashamed to have a twilight marathon with me.

finally: i’m still able to convince the moody teenager to make an idiot of himself with his friend by doing broadway dance songs on the wii in exchange for zelda time. that’s kinda priceless.

a contest:

2011-10-26T22:57:00.000-07:00

so. we're going to play a little game tonight. below are 5 pictures of yours truly. let's play the "guess which one she's the heaviest in" game, shall we?

picture A:

picture B:

picture C:

picture D:

picture E:

and answer is:
picture A: taken 10/2009 checking in at 220
picture B: taken 10/2010 checking in at 203
picture C: taken 4/2011 checking in at 230
picture D: also 4/2011, same weight
picture E: taken 10/2011 checking in at 248

i don't understand my body. in 2 years i've jumped FOURTY pounds. i dropped a bunch a while ago (remember those posts when i was all excited about my wii?) and now i'm back up to my heaviest ever. but i don't LOOK like it. at least to me i don't...

my jeans are baggy. my bra is the same size. my tee shirts fit the same. even my damn shoes fit the same. i think my face looks thinner now than it has in a long while and yet i'm checking in at my heaviest EVER. where the fuck am i hiding FORTY POUNDS? you see people flex 10 pounds and they have to change wardrobes one way or the other. i flex FORTY and nothing has changed. umm...WHAT THE FUCK BATMAN?

hurry up- I HAVE TO PEE!

2011-10-25T23:26:00.000-07:00

so. i have a house. and it’s an old house. and it needed work. and i decided it needed more work that it *actually* needed. and then i pulled a ham string kicking myself in the ass for deciding it needed more work than it needed.

they say the two worst things you can pick on in a house are the kitchen and the bathroom. guess what two things i did in my house?

the kitchen turned out pretty damn good (minus the hole that’s still in the floor where the threshold is STILL missing).

the bathroom?

*sigh*

here’s the story on the bathroom:

the house has two full bathrooms- one upstairs with a standing shower, toilet sink, and the one downstairs that had a full shower, closet, sink. downstairs there was also a closet in what i’ve claimed as the office.

after the remodel of the kitchen there was no place for the washer/dryer (yes, they were in the kitchen before. no thanks) and i decided, in all my infinite wisdom, why don’t we bust out the closet in the office, expand the bathroom, and add the washer/dryer in there? strike that: initially i thought i would just run lines into the closet for the washer/dryer, THEN i had the bright idea to knock out a few walls.

if you were wondering, here’s what it looks like when you start knocking out walls in a 110 year old house:

that picture was taken on june 23, 2011 when the first work was done on the project. that day the bathroom door was removed (frame and all), the sink was removed, the walls were knocked out of the closet, and the ceiling was opened up.

then the pause button was pressed.

and held down.

and held down a little longer.

i FINALLY got around to hiring a contractor to finish up the work. he came over, looked over the project, looked through the basement, looked over all the plumbing, electrical, everything and gave me a quote of $5,000 and said it would probably be LESS if i paid by the hour instead of a flat bid.

yes, i’m an idiot. i believed him.

his worked started on August 8, 2011. walls were ripped down. the ceiling was ripped down. the floor was ripped out (all three layers of hardwood. yes, THREE.) the plumbing was changed out, the electrical was re-run. the floor was put back in. the walls went back in. things were going GREAT. i was working with mac (the worker bee) on things, talking about where things would go, what we would do with the space, what parts were needed. we had a good process of cuss and discuss working- we would both toss out ideas, talk about what would work, what wouldn’t, come to an agreement and on things would go. it was great. it was easy. it was taking a little longer than i wanted (and a little more money since i was paying by the hour) but it was good. we discussed about me doing the tile work and painting to save money and everything was good with that. i suggested putting in the shelving between the stacking washer and dryer to give me a place to store soap and they liked the idea so much they started using it on other sites. things were going along smoothly.

and then the shit hit the fan.

tim, the main contractor and the official owner of the company started coming in to work. and it went from great to FUCKED UP over night. i was sitting on my couch one of the first mornings he came in doing paperwork for one of my jobs. i could hear mac and tim in the bathroom talking- the french doors haven’t been finished and there’s no door in the bathroom so i could hear everything pretty damn well. the issue at hand was some light switches that mac and i had talked about installing two inches lower than standard to accommodate a recycled mirror that i wanted to use. mac and i had discussed it, if it would work, if it wouldn’t, decided there was no particular reason they couldn’t be lower, and so all the switches on one wall were lowered two inches. no big issue. right? well, according to tim it was a HUGE issue. they were all wrong and needed re-done. i sat and listened to the conversation progress, listened to mac explain why they were done that way, how he and i had talked about it, measured the mirror and decided like we did. and then i hear tim: “well, sometimes when you have a difficult home owner you just need to tell them how it is.”

*ahem*

WHAT? did i just get called a difficult home owner IN MY OWN HOME? did that REALLY just happen? over something that i had discussed with mac and we had decided on TOGETHER? not once during the whole project had i ever insisted on anything. EVER. i tossed out ideas, if they worked, they worked, if they didn’t i was more than happy to come up with another solution. SEVERAL things were changed, adjusted, moved around, made to work. i wasn’t married to one single idea in that bathroom. it was a blank slate to me. and suddenly i’m called a difficult home owner? last i checked? it’s MY house. I’M paying the bills. shouldn’t it be how i want it to be? difficult or not?

from there it went from bad to worse- suddenly the door to the closet (we closed off the original door to the bathroom) needed to be ripped out and changed- $105. suddenly tim needed to do the painting- several hours at $35/hour. suddenly tim needed to do all the tile work- even more hours at $35/hour. oh, and the BRAND NEW COMMERCIAL TILE SAW that a friend loaned me? not good enough, tim decided he needed to go out and rent one. which he then set up on my front porch leaving a huge mess on the porch and tile drips all the way across my hard wood floors that he didn’t bother to clean up. AND? the tile work? worst i’ve ever seen in my entire life. he used CARDBOARD spacers for the tile. really? tile spacers are approx .53 cents for nine million. why the fuck would any contractor EVER use cardboard?

also: why would you leave the cardboard in long enough that the thin set dries and the cardboard is STUCK in the gaps? and it just kept getting worse. a friend came over to help with other projects outside the bathroom and suddenly tim was VERY territorial and flat out rude to my friend. ALSO: “accidentally” switched one of his shit beat up tools for my friends brand new one. classy. another darling friend came over to help me pick out flooring for the bathroom. again tim was flat out rude and actually refused to install the flooring i picked out (and so i had to pick out a different floor which, of course, turned out to be more expensive. *shock*).

the kicker? all this started because spokane remodeler magazine had approached tim and asked if they could feature one of his remodels in their magazine. tim decided mine would be great for that and all these changes and expenses needed to happen AT MY COST. ummm- NO. #1: you should have been doing your best work from the beginning. things shouldn’t suddenly change and need to be the best because a magazine is coming in. #2: if all this needs to happen for a magazine shoot: read: ADVERTISING FOR YOUR COMPANY, why the fuck should _I_ pay for that? if you want advertising for your company? YOU pay for it. we had an agreed price, we had an agreed scope of work. if YOU suddenly decide to change things, that’s not MY responsibility to foot the bill. i could have done the tile work and done a better job. the pictures i took are hard to see but ALL the tiles are off on the alignment- top to bottom, side to side, depth, every way tile can be off. ALL the big 18” tiles were cut the WRONG way (on the rented saw). ALL are chipped and most are crooked. _I_ could have painted and done a damn good job. i did the rest of the house and it turned out beautifully.

and so i fired him. well, that’s not true. i’m a chicken and i am TERRIFIED of confrontation so i actually had two wonderful gentlemen step in and handle things for me. it was rough, tim got very angry and defensive and confrontational- everything i was worried about. but, in the end, he left.

and so the story ends.

HA HA HA...if only.

when the gentlemen fired tim for me they asked him to leave immediately and send over an inventory of what was left at my house that he needed to get back and then someone would meet him and facilitate the pick up. part of an agreement i had with him was that there were some cabinets in my garage that he was going to do work in trade for. after seeing the tile work that he did in trade, knowing that it would ALL need taken down and redone, the gentlemen that were helping me and i decided that tim really should NOT get those cabinets in trade. i bet you can guess how well that went over. there were a few intimidating voice mails, a few text messages (all saved), and finally one last text “see u in small claims court” sent october 3rd. it’s been quiet since then. *knock on wood* all said and done i paid $6200ish for the work that was done. i paid in full, every friday as things progressed. i also paid for the tile, the tub, the sink, the flooring, the lighting, and quite a bit of the plumbing parts outside of his bills. my TOTAL for the bathroom is over $8,000. sounds like a bit more than $5,000 unless my math is that bad.

so. after over 6 weeks (it was supposed to take 4) i had NO bathroom: no toilet, no shower. no washer dryer, no door, no window, unfinished floors, shitty tile work, a busted pocket book and a threat for small claims court. insult to injury: when time picked up his tools after he was fired he left one last invoice for another $600+ trying to charge me for the tile saw rental, additional labor, and parts (some of which i’ve never even seen).

all that drama and i STILL have to stumble up the stairs to pee every time i get home from mommy’s wednesday night out.

here’s the GOOD news though:

since then i’ve had help getting a few more things done- my washer and dryer were installed a few weeks ago, the electrical has all been finished up and switches finally installed, the last light fixture has been installed, and this last sunday the flooring was laid out and cut and prepped to be installed (it needed to flatten out after being rolled up in the corner for too long). the sink has been set into place and will be installed right after the flooring and it’s actually starting to look like a bathroom.

i can’t wait to be able to pee without having to do a jane fonda stair stepper work out first.

so. there you have it: i picked one of the worst projects a home owner can pick, hired a TERRIBLE contractor, spent way more money than i was supposed to, and STILL haven’t finished the project.

excellent.

at least i’ll get to learn how to pee cool designs into the snow soon- winter is just around the corner.

(non)working girl

2011-10-25T01:36:00.000-07:00

so. i’ve been promising to write forever and i’m just now finally getting around to it. there’s been a few reasons for delay: 1- time: YES, i’m “unemployed” but i’m also busier than i’ve ever been helping several friends/businesses, chasing kids around, dealing with contractors, and then, of course, there’s always my own ish and the crap stuck in my head. 2- perspective: i’ve had some big shit go down lately. my knee jerk reaction is to write it all down immediately. most of this stuff needs perspective though. i need to be able to step back, process, analyze, think it over, make sure i’m reacting properly, THEN write about it. some if it i’m still not there yet. some of it i’m ready. so. there should be more writing in the next few days (schedule allowing) to get out the stuff i’m ready to talk about. so. all that said- brass tacks- today i’m going to tackle the most recent and the one that’s on my mind the most: money/unemployment.

i was denied unemployment. i appealed. denied AGAIN. the first time they told me that quitting my job to stay at home was not a good reason to quit. AWE.SOME. way to put family first state of washington. so i appealed and waited several weeks. i was certain that it wasn’t my employer trying to screw me over- i mean i worked for them for 10 years, left on the best terms, did everything i could for them. i was sure it was the state being the state and through the appeal it would all work out. then i got fucked up the ass without lube. sorry if that’s a little much, but HOLY FUCK OVER batman. i waited all these weeks, kept looking for a job while i watched what was left of my savings drain away. i kept thinking OF COURSE it will work out. then i called in, did the phone interview with the judge for the appeal and listened to my previous employer twist everything around in every direction possible to completely and totally fuck me over. they insist i quit my job to write. great. you know that thing called a letter of resignation? that thing that i turned in that said WHY i was quitting? the thing i turned in to my boss and is (or should be) in my employee file? funny how no where in there did i say i was quitting my job to write. it DOES say that i was leaving to be with my kids and be a family while i had the chance. YES, i said i was going to use some of the time to write. and cook. and go on field trips. and read. and do art work. and be a mom. and take vacations. and do things with my kids. fuck- i even wrote a blog about my goals for the year and the things i wanted to accomplish. YES, writing was one of those. NO, it was not the reason i left my job. i was honestly so shocked during the appeal that i couldn’t even disagree. i couldn’t believe they were insisting THAT was the reason i left. not that i lost my brother. not that my son lost his step mother and baby brother. not that i lost my dad and watched my whole life get dumped on it’s head in less than 12 months.

TEN FUCKING YEARS people. i worked for that company for TEN YEARS. i busted my ass for them. sent my kids to a daycare and had someone else spending more time with them than me. i arranged babysitters after BOTH kids had their tonsils out so i could be back at work. i made them go to daycare sick because i couldn’t take time away. i busted my ass for TEN years for that company. i gave them notice the beginning of november that i wanted to leave the end of december and then ended up staying an extra FULL month while they shitted time away hiring a replacement to train. i did my best for ten years, did my damndest to leave on the best terms, did everything i could just to get royally fucked over. are they that worried about their bottom line? do they really care that little about their employees? i really don’t want to believe that i worked for a company like that for ten years, but this has shown me otherwise.

people have asked me over the last year if i would go back to the company if the opportunity arose. i always i thought i would. i thought it would be great to go back to the benefits, to an employer that was great to me. i had nothing bad to say about them.

NOW?

no way in mother fucking hell would i spend one more day working for a company that could care less and works harder to protect their books than to take care of someone that gave them 10 years.

BIG QUESTION: now what? now what do i do that i have NO savings left, NO unemployment, and NO job on the horizon?

welcome to my stress.

i am VERY lucky that i do have a little money coming in via child support right now. it’s not much, and it has disappeared on me several times before, but it’s something for now. i just need to be very careful with it. i HAVE been working for one business with the potential for payment- i just need to learn to grow a pair and ask for the paycheck. not something i’m good at. especially when it’s a friend. especially when i know business is slow. especially when there’s some trade work going on. especially when i’m so damn good at making up excuses to avoid a potentially awkward situation and ESPECIALLY when i’m just too damn chicken to actually do it.

so. there you have it. poor, broke, pissed off, BUT I HAVE A PLAN! and i have a fucking awesome business name. it’s ironic, funny, and simple all at once. stay tuned for the actual business licensing, domain registering, official branding ish before i drop it out there, but i’m sure you’ll all think it fits me!

struggle

2011-08-30T15:58:00.000-07:00

i know i haven't been posting much lately. i have a LIST of things to write about but i've been half lazy and half struggling with how much to write.

there's a BIG topic i want to talk about but i keep battling with how much is too much to throw out there- coming from me i'm sure that's a little strange to hear. it's more along an "airing dirty laundry" line than an embarrassing TMI line. half of me believes that there's healing in getting my side of the story out, and half of me doesn't want my hardest issue out on the web for anyone to run across.

i keep trying to think of a tactful way to cover the issue but the truth can't be half assed or sugar coated so i think i just need to moxy up and throw it out.

in the mean time there's a few random things to throw out there. i'll start kicking my own ass and making myself sit down to write more regularly- there's nothing on the DIY network that won't be aired again later (yes, i'm currently addicted to home improvement shows).

what say you? do you think there's anything that's too personal to share? i've always believed that if it can help one person then there's not...but on this one i'm really questioning that.

do i stick to my guns? share my story no matter how potentially uncomfortable it may make me? edit it? i'm lost on this one...

16 again?

2011-08-29T19:10:00.000-07:00

if you had the chance to be 16 again knowing what you know now, would you? it’s a question that’s been around forever. i’ve always said there’s no way in hell i would ever go back again, even knowing what i know now. i HATED my teen years, there was nothing good about high school or any of the things i went through back then.

who would want to go back to 16? even with adult knowledge and confidence? no thanks- i’m good.

well. things change.

last night i was 16 again. knowing what i know now. with confidence. i didn’t think of it that way at the time, but it really was just like being 16 again. and it was really great.

last night i had a chance to have a “re-do” with my first ever sexual partner. back in the day it wasn’t so great and actually left me with several of the insecurities that i’ve battled for years. long story short, he was my first lover and i didn’t have my first orgasm until i got married which was my 10th lover. so, you can tell i didn’t know my body at all back then or how to ask for what i wanted and he wasn’t exactly prepared to put in the time and effort to figure it out back then.

a LOT of things have changed since then. there was a spawn, marriages, marriages ending (mine divorce, his death). there’s personal growth and experiences and self discovery. there have been some EPIC fights, years of hating each other, years of tolerating each other, and here we are 14 years later and i would honestly count him among one of my closest friends. we’ve both been through so much and it’s been interesting to come together and help each other through those things and grow together and help raise our son together.

he came to town a few weeks ago and stayed a few days and we vaguely kicked around the idea of being together again but decided against it. last night he came back through town again and we both decided this time to see what happened.

like i said before, i wasn’t thinking of it at the time as going back to being 16. we did talk about how it had been 14 years since we had been down this road and both wondered how different things would be. details spared: MUCH different (and yes, worth it).

this morning i did get to thinking about it as going back and getting a do-over. i thought about how strong and confident i was last night and how it made everything so different. i thought about all the hang up’s i’ve been carrying with me for the last 14 years and how they really were just two inexperienced kids who really had no clue. it’s been odd today. it’s more thought than i expected. emotionally i’m good. mentally it’s been a trip. and in a GOOD way. i feel empowered. i feel sexy and sensual and confident as a woman. i feel like i don’t have to be so self conscious in bed anymore. all the things that were seared in my mind from those first few experiences don’t have to stick there any more. i can very confidently let them go.

so. for how much i argued against ever going back to 16, as much as i swore that i would never want to do that or experience that again, it was a very good thing. i’m really glad i did.

what would you do? would you go back to 16? i know not everyone would have the same good experience, but would the chance be worth it?

the story of asshats and fish...

2011-06-10T04:00:00.000-07:00

so. here it is, 2 am, my sleep schedule is completely FUCKED at this point (since when does a 1 hour nap at 2 in the afternoon keep you up all night?). it sounds like the perfect time to catch you up on a few of the promises i’ve made but haven’t kept...what better place to start than dating horror stories?

all for you darlings. ALL FOR YOU.

harland williams:

i started this story the night it happened, FIFTY SIX DAYS AGO. jaysus, how have you guys not beaten me for my slacking on writing?

harland williams- it wasn’t actually HIM, but i swear it could have been his identical twin. i was at my fav bar for my usual wednesday night band support and even though the WHOLE BAR was empty, this jackass had to sit next to me and start being the typical out of town business man looking to get laid. his friend was kinda cute/nice but this guy...holy hell.

so he’s hitting on me, doing something that we’ll call flirting, trying to buy me drinks (no go- i’m odd like that- i’ll buy my own, thank you very much). this guy is laying it on, i’m being a bitch, he’s not getting the picture. at one point he flat out said: “i’m horny. i could either go to the strip club and back to my motel room and jack off, or you could save me the time and money and just go back with me now.” gee. how can a girl resist such an offer? he’s laying it on, trying to tell jokes, trying to impress me, telling me about his big shot job (hey BANK OF AMERICA...your asshole employees are GREAT company representatives in public...AWESOME). he is just not taking a hint. i’m flat out making fun of him, not holding back on the bitchy comments, making fun of his company and he finally gets pissed off and says “FINE. I FUCKING GIVE UP.” and then exits stage left to the bathroom. i let out a sigh of relief, the adorable bartender looks over and asks if i shot him down to which i said “he finally gave up.” jackass comes back from the bathroom, sits down, and STARTS ALL OVER AGAIN. i literally looked straight at him and said: “since when does giving up mean doubling your efforts?” the jack ass STILL kept trying.

when you make the bartender laugh it’s a good night. he laughed a LOT that night. i decided that since the jackass wasn’t giving up i was going to be a true bitch and have a little fun with it. harland williams ended up staying til closing, racking up a good tab, and tipping well in effort to try to impress me. when he FINALLY left (alone), the bartender asked why i convinced the jackass to stick around instead of letting him heading off to a club or back to his motel. my answer: “well, he can go to a club and spend his money there or stay here, run up a tab, leave a good sized tip, and provide us entertainment. this way the bar got more money, you got a good tip, and i got to make fun of someone all night. win-win-win.” i take care of my bartender. he puts up with my obnoxious self inappropriately hitting on him every wednesday. getting him good tips is the least i can do.

i WILL admit to feeling guilty the next day about being such a bitch. i ended up emailing harland williams (at his work email since the asshole gave me his card) to apologize. i don’t do bitch well.

the silent guy:

this, as the best are, is a plenty of fish story. this guy seemed normal at first. we emailed for a while, he seemed smart, had some good jokes, somewhat decent conversation. i will admit that he seemed like he might actually have the potential of a non-train wreck date. i should know better. he wants to get together for lunch but doesn’t let me know until 2 pm. i suggest drinks and we agree to meet for cheesecake/drinks downtown that night at 9. i get there right at 9 and i sit at a table alone and wait. and wait. and wait. and since i’m waiting, i go ahead and order a drink. if nothing else i’m totes comfortable sitting at a table out alone any day of the week, so it doesn’t bother me too much that it’s looking like a no show.

oh, how i wish that’s how the story ended. the guy shows up TWENTY MINUTES LATE. awesome start. he introduces himself then he sits down on the bench NEXT TO ME. umm...how the hell are we supposed to talk? not only that, he shows up and crappy jeans, a faded out untucked button up shirt, SLOUCHES on the bench next to me and looks like he hasn’t combed his hair in a few days. awesome first impression. so he’s just sitting there. and sitting there. the waiter comes over and asks if he’d like a drink and he just sticks with water. what’s the point of meeting for drinks if you don’t drink? we could have met for coffee or ice cream or a million other things. so we sit there awkwardly.

i try to ask a few questions, start a conversation which is DAMN hard when the person is sitting next to you. all i get back are 1-2 word answers and nothing else. spiffy. in the middle of it my son calls to check in on me and a darling friend calls to see if i need rescued. i’m trying to stick it out. FULL EFFORT. it’s just awkward and quiet and strange. fuck it. i finish my drink and tell him it’s time for me to jet. i go up to pay the bill and the waiter looks at me a little strange, asks how it went and all i can say is “get me the hell out of here.” the waiter cracked up and handed me my tab. kinda pointless at that stage of the game, but i went out the BACK door and hauled ass out of there. the guy actually emailed me the next day to argue something i had tried to start a conversation about (yes, there really is an organization called the IAVA- iraq and afghanistan veterans of america. look it up. support them.) nothing about how it went, no awkward attempt to make it better, nothing. just an argument. winner.

fister guy:

the answer is in the name. do i even need to tell this one? FINE. ok. another plenty of fish guy- go figure. this guy is a little off from the start. high strung, PTSD from one too many trips to the sandbox. he likes telling me about how he loves to be violent, play rugby, hit people...AWESOME. sign me the eff up. i’m trying to carefully let this one go. i try ignoring emails, phone calls, i remove him from chat (and block him). i was able to put him off for a while, but he was damn persistent. so. one day we’re talking on the phone...keep in mind i haven’t actually MET this guy in person yet. just chatted. we’re talking along, his questions are starting to get a little uncomfortable.

(yes, it was as awkward as me putting a kitty picture in my blog)

*NOTE: while i may be a trashy little trollop in life i TRY to appear a little more mellow and reserved when first meeting/talking to potential dates. i try like hell to keep any sex talk out of it for as long as possible. i know...doesn’t seem like me but there it is.*

so. the guy is talking along, questions are getting a little risque, i’m trying my best to avoid or give half answers then the BIG question hits: what are you into sexually?

*sigh* great. excellent question to get from someone you haven’t even met yet. so i try to brush it off: “oh, you know, mostly typical stuff, nothing to out there.”

all’s well and good, right?

his response: “i like fisting and rough sex.”

ummm...

fisting?

is that really even a thing?

don’t bother checking youporn. it IS and you don’t want to see that.

who the hell drops FISTING? to someone you’ve never even met? isn’t that something that if you’re into it you date someone for a while, get to know them, sleep with them, one day, a few years into things, maybe suggest some new porn, wait for their reaction, see where it goes from there?

YOU DON’T JUST DROP FISTING ON SOMEONE. in any way shape or form.

confession: while i avoided this guy like the plague after that i DID agree to go out with him on bin laden day. i mean, he did several tours in OIF/OEF and deserved to celebrate, you know? do what i can to support the troops. and NO, i didn’t see if he was serious about being into that.

and the saddest story for last, the one where i find out i have ZERO gaydar. did your heart just break a little too? so depressing.

i was invited to a masquerade ball for autism a while ago. an actual BALL. big gowns, masques, ALL OF IT. so i decide to go, get the dress, do the hair, nails, ALL OF IT. i hand made the masques even (they were AWESOME if i do say so myself- take a look:)

i ask an adorable young guy to be my escort for the evening, make a masque for him, rent the tux, the whole shebang. we looked ADORABLE together. so much fun. at the last minute my darling gay friends decided to attend the ball as well. this is VERY important. at the end of the evening my date isn’t feeling well and decides to leave. i’m a touch disappointed because he is delicious (although he was NINE when i was giving birth. creepy cougar much?). he leaves and my darling gays decide to let me in on something: he’s playing for THEIR team. if it had been any other friends i would have called bullshit, but i have a feeling their gaydar is pretty well tuned. insult to injury? another friend who was there came over to chat a bit and she ALSO had the gardar going off full force about my date. me? i had NOTHING. i turns out i have NO, ZERO, NONE, NOTHING when it comes to gaydars. i feel defective. like i should be on the reject clearance rack at the back of the idaho walmart. so depressing. i would like to point out that there is not actual evidence of my date being gay, but how can you question SEVERAL people with proper working gardars? *sigh*

so. that’s all of them lately. there was one guy at the bar that did a drive by “i just wanted to let you know you’re nine different kinds of fine.” but not much more than that. things are depressingly quiet on the dating front.

i still can’t believe i slacked for FIFTY SIX DAYS. i really AM a professional slacker. damn.

the good, the bad, the excited

2011-05-23T11:18:00.000-07:00

well, there are MANY updates waiting to happen- don’t worry, i’ve kept a list of all the goings on so you won’t miss out on all the shenanigans.

BUT: the biggest update:

I BOUGHT A FUCKING HOUSE!

that’s right- me, the gypsy, the girl who has moved 11 times in 11 years (soon that will be 12 for 12). the girl who swore buying a home was not in any plan in any future in any way.

A HOUSE. a real house. a 1901, covered front porch, back deck, 4 bedroom, 2 bathroom, dining room with a small bay, purple kitchen HOUSE.

i’m still a fuck-ton scared of it. i mean- this means if the water heater shits out _I_ have to replace it. if there’s a leak in the roof _I_ have to repair it. when the lawn needs mowed...well, you can bet your fucking panties i’m calling someone else to do that last one. but it’s MINE. i can knock out walls or rearrange the kitchen (both of which i’m planning). i can PAINT it, rip up carpet, dance nekkid, ANYTHING I FUCKING WANT TO.

but. you know me. for every good there has to be a wrench in the works...here it is:

i called my brother the other day to wish him a happy birthday and he mentioned that one of his friends had let him know i bought a house. why hadn’t i let him know myself? well, because i knew something like this would happen. i’m chatting along, telling him a little about the house, how i’m nervous to buy it, how it’s a TON of money to spend all at once, and he drops this bomb:

“well, it’s not like it’s your money anyway.”

yes, asshole. i realize it’s not _my_ money. i realize i did not earn this money, this is not a nest egg that i saved up for years to make a purchase like this. i realize that this is my fucking lottery ticket. LUCKY FUCKING ME. you fucking asshole. i’m damn well aware of where this money came from. and, more than anything, that makes me extra nervous to spend it because i means that much more to me. i’m that much more on alert about buying a house my dad would be proud of. he always said he wished he could buy me a house and take care of me, and now he’s doing it. i want to make sure to pick out the best house i fucking can and make the best use of the money he left me. it’s been a HUGE pressure to me to not let my dad down. i realize that this is death money. i realize that several people died to provide me this opportunity. i’m more than well aware of that fact EVERY. FUCKING. DAY.

i remember more than once when my dad helped me move he would just shake his head and look around and be SO UPSET looking at the places i was going to call home. more than once he chewed my ass for picking a place he thought wasn’t up to his standard. he was always worried about me having a nice roof over my head. this is his way of taking care of me. it’s a shitty fucked up way, but it’s happening. and i want to make damn sure that it’s one he would approve of. in my head i know he’s still skeptical. he’s a dad. i know he would be looking around, poking at things, worried about something or other falling apart on me. but i also know that he would be so proud that i’m giving my boys a place of their own. i know that after the last two moves he learned to trust me that i can take ANY place and make it a good home for my spawns.

“it’s not like it’s your money.”

FUCK YOU. fuck you for shitting on such a big event for me. fuck you for not realizing how much time and thought and emotion i’ve put into this. i know it’s not what he wanted me to do with the money so therefore it must be the wrong choice. i know i was supposed to not quit my job, invest in college for the kids, make smart decisions.

WELL GUESS WHAT: THESE ARE FUCKING SMART DECISIONS. and they’re the RIGHT decisions for me. NOTHING can replace time with my kids. nothing can replace having a whole summer with them. NOTHING can replace giving them their own spaces to OWN. they won’t have to move again. they won’t have to share a room. they can decorate, paint, make it THEIRS. i never had that when i was a kid. sure, my mom bought a house, but i wasn’t allowed to decorate it or put up things i wanted or make it my own space- i want that for my kids. i want the quintessential hollywood kids room with wacky paint and posters all over the wall and a mess that keeps you from seeing the floor. i want them to have ownership and security.

and i ran out of steam about half way through that.

brass tacks: it’s the RIGHT FUCKING DECISION FOR ME. IT’S A GOOD DECISION FOR MY KIDS. i am damn well aware of where the fucking money came from. i’m well fucking aware of how it isn’t really mine, and i’m making the smartest use of it that i can. i KNOW, hands down, that my dad would be proud of me for doing this.

back to the excitement:

I BOUGHT A HOUSE! i’m writing the check out for it today and i will OWN it, free and clear! i’m so excited

rant

2011-04-18T12:54:00.000-07:00

dear plenty of fish guy:

can i just say how delighted i am to find out that your sleazy “not into casual sex” asshole self found me “sexy hot”?

why OF COURSE i’d love to stop by your office this afternoon and play dirty secretary with you in your obviously bustling successful office that allows their partners/managers to be online in the middle of the day chatting in completely sexually demoralizing ways with complete strangers.

i of course find it endlessly flattering that based on five pictures of me all from the shoulders up, you find me (and my deliciously sexy legs) to be such a complete and total turn on.

how can a girl resist such a temping offer as to be ravaged in a strange unknown warehouse by a complete stranger who has represented himself to be such an upstanding citizen? how did you know that was my secret fantasy for the day?

good luck finding someone else to entertain you during your oh-so-busy work day.

i hope you get locked in the supply closet and rot there.

not your arm candy OR dirty secretary,

(if i had that job, i'd quit)

houston, we have a problem

2011-04-12T09:48:00.000-07:00

and now, back to your regularly scheduled crazy:

we have a problem.

ps: this blog is about sex, so if you don’t want to know things about me, you’ve been warned.

i’m not one to keep quiet about people’s freak flag. i get it, we all have one, i’m not judging (yes i am) but that doesn’t mean that i’m not going to take every opportunity i have to let EVERYONE know about the ones i run across.

i call it a public service announcement. where would we all be if i kept quiet? you’d be in for some unfortunate surprises in the bedroom is where.

tee shirts.

i love them. they’re an EXCELLENT invention. ring neck, v-neck, long sleeve, short sleeved, I LOVE TEE SHIRTS.

except during sex.

now i get it. some people are uncomfortable with their body. TRUST. my birthday suit is NOT in tip top condition. i understand stretch marks, wrinkles, unfortunate lumps when you twist and turn. hell, some of us have unfortunate lumps when we’re laying completely flat and still. i get that not everyone is comfortable baring all.

BUT.

this doesn’t make keeping your tee shirt on ok. in any way. even if it has some witty saying for me to read during said sex. and it SHOULD take longer for said sex than it takes for me to read any witty saying. also: although there are some things i enjoy reading over and over tee shirts are not one of them.

if i have to strip, well, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. TAKE IT OFF.

ALSO: if you’re oh, say...30 and maybe, perhaps...oh...a hockey player, in incredible, delicious, hard body shape (pause for drool) WHY ARE YOU KEEPING YOUR SHIRT ON?

there’s one simple reason: it makes the exit that much faster.

oh, i wish i was kidding.

i don’t care how good the sex is. i don’t care if you last two hours (not kidding on that one, there’s your TMI for the day). i don’t care how good all the kissing and (pause again for drool) all of it is. if you keep your tee shirt on the whole time and you can be out my front door less than 5 minutes after the grand finale- THAT IS NOT OK.

i will offer one allowance: SOCKS. men, listen up: YOUR FEET ARE FUCKING NASTY. i know some of you aren’t complete assholes- some of you actually know what trimming your nails means. some of you even willingly get pedicures. for that, I THANK YOU. you are allowed to take your socks off and have your bare toes in the same zip code as me. the rest of you: YOUR NASTY JUNGLE FEET SHOULD BE KEPT UNDER WRAPS AT ALL TIMES. i don’t want your nasty nails scraping my legs. i’ve had some expensive ink work done and i dont’ want to get gangrene from a nasty scratch and have to have my leg cut off. KEEP YOUR SOCKS ON. ALL THE TIME. fuck, i’ll even let you break the socks with sandals rule for that one.

everything else goes though. EVEN THE TEE SHIRT.

family legacy

2011-04-07T02:54:00.000-07:00

my grandmother is 81 years old. it’s not the longest run in history, but it’s a damn good one. it’s interesting to think that she was born in 1929. that was the year of the wall street crash, the beginning of the great depression, the st valentines day massacre, the opening of the san fransisco bay bridge. in the same year martin luther king jr was born as well as audrey hepburn and anne frank. (read more here: 1929)

i found out last wednesday night that my grandmother has cancer. she will not be a cancer survivor. this will be the final chapter for her. by the time they found the cancer it was beyond any treatment options. the best they can do now is give her pain meds (which she doesn’t like to take because they make her too groggy) and wait for the end.

i’m angry at the universe about this. i get that 81 is a good run, but this is NOT a fair way for this amazing woman to go. there is NOTHING fair about this. here’s why:

my grandma is where i get my rebellious streak. there’s pictures of her in college holding hands with boys. i know- doesn’t sound so scandalous until you realize she went to a college with separate mens and womens dorms. not very unheard of at the time. but then you look in the background of the pictures and you see signs about men and women not being allowed to fraternize together. pictures of her holding hands with a boy with a sign about no fraternizing in the background. there’s also a picture of her and several girlfriends standing on a wall directly over a sign that says “no sitting or standing on this wall.” she had a strong wild streak to her. granted, i’m basing this off two pictures, but they do say a pictures worth a thousand words. she was also very in love with her first husband and there may or may not have been less than 9 months between their marriage and the birth of their first son. unfortunately at that time it was not at all something that people could deal with like they pretended to do when it happened to me (minus the marriage part). it caused a rift in her family and she was (i believe) disowned due to it. if not actually disowned it caused a large rift that caused great pains later on.

my mum was born in 1955 when my grandmother was 25 or 26 (forgive me, i don’t know her exact birthday- we’ll stick with 26). a few months before my mum was born my grandmother’s husband was killed in a plane accident. i can’t even imagine. 26, baby on the way, suddenly alone. in 1955. additionally, my mum has 3 older brothers. at 26 my grandmother was a sudden single parent of 3 small boys and a baby on the way. can you even imagine? i made the choice to become a single parent at 23 leaving my marriage. granted, not a choice i really wanted to make at the time, but still it wasn’t like having my whole life ripped from me. it was damn hard with two little guys. i can’t even begin to imagine three small boys and a baby on the way. she had to scrape together a few thousand dollars to have his body railed (yes, by train) back to his family AND pay for burial costs. you’d think at a time like this her family would step in and help. remember that whole great pains? they wouldn’t help. his family stepped in to help, but still. she was on her own. talk about a hard knock. she did it though.

in 1958 she married again and had two more kids. six total. that alone deserves sainthood.

now. our family has pretty tight lips when it comes to history but over the years i’ve heard a few things consistently enough to know that there’s a strong truth to them. still, please understand that this is a generation removed and a that no one is willing to talk about what went on.

my grandmother’s second husband is a pretty horrible person in my opinion. he is the type of person that never had qualms about using brute force to get his way. my mum talked only a few times about growing up with him and it was never good. one thing she remembered was my grandmother in the bathroom giving birth while he was in the kitchen demanding dinner. she talks about how when they got in trouble as kids (which was a continual thing due to the type of person he was) he would grab whatever was handy to beat them- a hairbrush, a belt, a metal rod. my grandmother and the kids went through this- no one escaped. in addition to that demeanor, he was also very politically defiant. he has strong ties to branches of the aryan nations and different supremacy groups. it was not 6 degrees of separation to our family when things like ruby ridge happened. it was maybe 1 or 2. hell, the wingnut even started his own “church” and considers himself a minister. hand in hand with all that goes a distrust of modern medicine, resistance to “government tracking” (drivers licenses and birth certificates), stockpiling weapons and food for the end of the world- the batshit crazy just goes on and on. did you know that if you eat mushrooms and ham you’ll catch aids? and that if you snort enough cyan pepper you can cure cancer? (one snort and i would NEVER complain about another medical problem as long as i lived. kind of like the egyptian answer to headaches). he is, to the core, in every way possible, a terrible person. even now, as my grandma is immobilized by cancer he’s demanding that she just needs to get up and walk more and she’ll be better. he gets angry with her for struggling through the pain and being confused or groggy. he talked yesterday about the “good old days” and how when they would argue she would simply say “you’re the head of the household” and that would be the end of the discussion. does anyone else catch the undertone to a discussion like that?

my mum did her best to keep my brother and i away from that whole mess growing up, one thing i am extremely grateful to her for. we rarely visited my grandmothers ranch and we NEVER spent time alone there.

53 years. my grandmother has endured 53 years of abuse after losing the love of her life, having her family shun her and being left on her own in 1955 with three kids and one on the way. she stuck with it because it’s what her generation does. you stay. there is no other option.

and she still maintained the beautiful person that she is. hidden in there peeking out when the coast is clear is that rebel. the amazing woman that gave me my love of vintage books. the first person in our family to go to college. the young lady in the picture standing on the forbidden wall. the woman that i look up to for what she went through and continues to go through. she raised six kids. SIX. she ran the ranch for over 20 years with “small” gardens that would put most gardens to shame (ACRES of gardens). she provided food for countless families that passed through and stayed on the land at different times. she made (and hand tied) quilts for all 9 of us grandkids. every year since my kids started school she helped make sure all their supplies were provided. visiting her over the last week i’ve still seen an amazing sense of humor, beautiful intelligence, unimaginable strength and patience. it breaks my heart to think of how much i missed out on growing up because of what she was stuck enduring.

and i’m angry at the universe because she never got a break. a few years ago her husband was very sick and it didn’t look like he was going to last very long. i was so excited for her thinking that finally she would be away from his tyranny. she would be able to get a nice little place in town and live a few years of her life in peace. a few years away from the constant abuse. a few years with her kids who had all distanced themselves as adults. a few years with grandkids, great grandkids that had been kept at a distance. instead he’s pulled through and is in fine health (aside from dementia) and she’s in the worst possible pain, completely overtaken with cancer and no chance of pulling through. no chance of peace. no chance to have the life she deserved. no chance to be the beautiful independent, free spirited woman she once was. i’m so angry. i’m so filled with hate and rage to see the scales once again not balance out. i don’t understand how the universe works. i don’t understand why things like this happen.

i’m also terrified.

my grandmother has lived with 53 years of abuse. my mother grew up in that household. i have to acknowledge that experience and how it shaped her adult life and approach to relationships. i have no question that her marriage to my dad was unhealthy. i love my father with everything i am, but i am not blind to his faults. i know that he had affairs. i know that he was young and didn’t treat my mother the best he could have. i know they were both young and both came from hard upbringings and didn’t have the healthiest examples of how to be a young married couple. i honestly believe that my mother would have stuck with him forever if he hadn’t come home and announced he was in marriage counseling. with the other woman. if he hadn’t left, my mother never would have. she would have stuck in an unhealthy relationship because it’s what you do. how do i know this? because she’s doing it now. she’s married again to a horrible man. a man that has lied to her, mistreated her, hidden things from her, abused her kids. she is in an abusive relationship now and she is sticking with it because that’s what you do. my grandmother married a second time because she needed help raising four young children. my mother married a second time because she needed help raising two young children. both stuck out abusive marriages because it’s what you do.

i’m TERRIFIED. i’m TERRIFIED to be a third generation of this. and i KNOW i’ve already broken the mold. i was in an abusive marriage and I GOT OUT. but the fact remains that i was in an abusive marriage. i followed their steps. i did it. i married an abuser. a third generation. i did get out, but i’m TERRIFIED that i don’t know any better. i don’t know what a healthy relationship is. i don’t know how people are supposed to work together. i don’t know what the good things are to look for and it’s damn hard shopping when you’re only going off the avoid list.

on the other end i’m terrified of avoiding relationships and not trying to find someone to try to give my kids a healthy example to look up to. no example is just as damaging as a bad example. they need something good and healthy and strong to learn from and aspire to. but i don’t know how to give that to them. i only know that i want to protect them from an unhealthy one. i don’t want to fuck up a fourth generation. i don’t want my kids to look back 15 years from now and be in the same boat facing the same fears and the same bad experiences. how do you fix things like this? how do you unlearn what you grew up with? how do you change the family legacy? i don’t want to be the third generation single mother who marries for help and stays no matter what.

and so what do you do? you’re terrified to get stuck in a bad one and terrified to not have one at all. i want to break the cycle. i want to be the generation that does it right. i want to be the generation that is healthy and happy and successful in a partnership. i just have no fucking clue where to start.

the battle rages

2011-04-06T23:57:00.000-07:00

ok. so i realize it’s been a while and a few blog promise fails. it’s been a hell of a few weeks. i know that’s probably the time i should write the MOST, but it’s also the time i usually find myself the mos tongue tied when it comes to writing.

i’ve been having a hard time.

there. that’s on the table. there’s been depression, hard parenting, family emergencies, and a torrent of memories and grief hitting lately. i’m not sure what’s going on- maybe the moon is in a strange orbit. it was a little close to the earth for comfort recently.

a few weeks ago i went out for an evening and had just enough to drink that it seemed like a good idea to watch the dvd from my dad’s memorial service. alcohol is the devil. let me just say that. (it is however being my friend tonight and relaxing me enough to get this started.)

i watched the dvd. all the way through. it wasn’t actually a recording of the service like i thought it was but instead it was a compilation of pictures from the service. pictures of the motorcade, the speeches, the presentations, the bagpipes, all of it. ALSO: pictures from the scene. the parts of the service were hard but i made it through them. the pictures of the scene were unexpected and startling. it’s one thing to see the destruction from the ground, to walk the space where the house was, to sift through the remains. it’s a while different ball game to see the aerial pictures of the scene. to see the complete and total destruction all at once. on the ground you can take it one piece at a time. you can deal with what’s right in front of you and save the rest for when you’re ready. when you see the aerial picture it’s all at once. the whole ball of wax. it was intense to see. it looked like a perfect circle of fire had hit the earth where their house once stood. i still don’t understand the forensics of the fire. i still don’t understand how it decided to destroy some things and leave things a few feet away completely untouched. apparently i’m not the only one. there is no official ruling on the fire and there never will be. the official word is “unknown causes” signed, sealed and delivered by the ATF, the local fire department, all agencies involved. the best of the best review this one and no one knows what happened.

i’m getting distracted and writing myself into a corner. when you find yourself sitting and staring at the screen for 20 minutes you need to switch directions. so. prepare for a switch:

my oldest son has decided to be a teenager. i knew it was coming, i just hoped we had prepared a little better for it. it’s not quite a train wreck yet, but the potential is there. my boys fight. that’s partly what brothers do. BUT, its different when one of them can’t stop of know where the line is for behaviour and interaction. the little spawn is working on learning how to control his body and his interactions but to a certain extent he’ll never be able to really master the skill due to his aspergers. he’s working hard, he’s already come a long way, but part of it will never happen. his brother doesn’t seem to get this. they constantly fight and pick on each other and of course, EVERY. DAMN. TIME. the little one keeps pushing it further and further and the big spawn has to be the winner and it ends up in disaster. several times a day, EVERY. DAY. there’s punching and hitting and name calling. i’ve tried everything to make them stop. they’ve lost privileges, they’ve spent a LONG time hugging it out, i’ve told them to stay away from each other. nothing works. in my mind it’s mostly the oldest spawns responsibility to walk away because #1 he’s older, and #2 he doesn’t have the problem of knowing when to stop like the little one does. he’s just too stubborn and mean to let things end. well, it’s been getting worse and worse. i warned the oldest spawn to just let things drop or he would lose his gameboy, his comics, and his art supplies in that order. the other night the oldest spawn was being horrible all night. snippy comments all through dinner, picking on his brother all night despite several warnings, it just wouldn’t end. finally we stopped to drop a friend off and in the two seconds between me getting out of the car and turning to look through the windshield the oldest spawn had punched the little spawn in the face. full on punched, right in his face. i about popped a cork. when i got back in the car i tried my best to keep my temper under control and told the oldest spawn he was grounded from his gameboy, my iphone and the laptop for a month. he started yelling at me telling me how unfair i am, standard teenager drama and i warned him twice to stop. he wouldn’t quit, so i told him one series of comic books now belonged to me. ONE SERIES. not all of them. not his whole collection, just one series. holy shit you’d think the world hand ended. the yelling turned to sobbing and freaking out- pulling his hair, thrashing all over the back seat, just going off on me. i managed to maintain my temper and let everything he was yelling at me just roll off. he pulled the standard “I HATE YOU”, “THIS IS SO UNFAIR” and even branched out into “THIS IS SOMETHING GRANDMA WOULD DO” and i just let it all roll off. it continued for a good hour after we got home. he just wouldn’t quit. he finally went to bed and things quieted down. a few days later i brought it up again that he needed to turn over one of his sets of comics and the world ended again. this time he started throwing things around his room, punching his walls, throwing himself on the floor. if i didn’t know better i would swear he was 2 instead of 12. i don’t know how to deal with those melt downs. OVER COMIC BOOKS. i get that they’re special. i get that he saved his allowance/babysitting money to pay for part of them. i also get that maybe something that’s so special to him will finally get his attention and get the point across about being better to his brother. but there’s also the risk that he’s getting so upset about things that the anger is building into something worse and he’s missing the whole point. i don’t know. i made him stick to it over spring break- he was allowed to take the portable dvd player for the road trip to his dad’s, but the gameboy stayed home with me. i have no idea about computers or anything while he’s there, but here’s hoping that he sticks to it. snowball in hell, i know. but i don’t know what to do. the way he freaked out was so unlike him. to see him in a complete melt down phase pulling his own hair, punching walls, throwing things- i had no idea what to do besides keep my own temper in check and ride it out (if you’ve ever seen my temper you know what i feat in itself that is). if he gets much bigger though then it could get dangerous. where do we go from here? he HAS to learn to be better to his brother. he HAS to learn to control his anger better. i just don’t know how to get from here to there.

switching tracks again- i have a bit of a rabbit trail brain today, forgive me.

there will be a different blog on this, but here’s a quick overview just to catch you up: i found out last week that my grandmother is sick. they found out that she has cancer and doesn’t have much longer. no one is sure how long she’s had cancer, she’s pretty stubborn about doctors and letting people know when things are wrong. by the time they found the cancer it was in her bones, her blood, it has metastasized through her whole body and she has uncontrolled tumor growth. there’s a whole blog coming about her and how this has made me step back and look at things. so. be prepared for that. suffice to say it wasn’t the best news. on top of the dvd and the pre-teen melt down, i haven’t been dealing with it very well.

switch again- i feel like there’s just been this storm of everything going on and i just feel like it’s hitting hard. and here’s the part where i pull a total melt down.

my kids are gone this week for spring break. i was looking forward to a week of fun and going out and being completely responsibility free. it’s turned into a disaster. the kids left on monday and i finally left the house tuesday mid morning and that was only to drive to colville to see my grandmother. so much for a rowdy good time. yesterday would have also been my dad’s 56 birthday. that hit a thousand times harder than i expected it to. on the way back from colville i decided to go out for a steak dinner and a beer in honor of my dad. if you know me, you know that i get some of the strangest ideas. well, yesterday i had an idea that i would be good to call up the state patrol office in spokane and see if there was an off duty officer that would like to join me for a steak and a beer in memory of my dad. something about sharing that with an officer that seemed like it would be therapeutic or healing or something. talked to dispatch and then the sargent on duty and there were no officers available. also: the sargent threw in some good old sympathy which ended up with me driving down 395 in tears. so last night i took myself out to dinner and drinks in memory of my dad.

**side note: turns out my call to the wsp yesterday rang some alarm bells and i was gifted a call from the district chaplain today to check in on me. awe.some. didn’t know inviting someone out to dinner was such a reason for alarm.**

and pity party, table for one please:

i seem to be doing a LOT of things by myself lately. going out alone, being the lonely (and pathetic) girl at the bar. being the table for one in the corner. especially with everything going on lately that loneliness has been increasingly amplified. it would be nice to have someone to talk to. a sounding board. a check point in this mess. i feel like i could hold on a little better if i had some point of reference, but instead it’s just me out here floundering. tonight i went out again. went to a movie and to dinner. alone. and i know there’s a power to being able to do that. a strength to being able to get off my couch and actually do it. but there’s also a huge embarrassment to it. and i know people don’t know you need help unless you ask for it, but i’m TERRIFIED to ask for help. i tried to reach out to a friend last week. i tried telling him how scared this whole thing with my grandma makes me. how it makes me look at my family and worry about fucking my kids up. i opened up, i reached out. what i got back in return was this: “well, your kids are already fucked up.” supposedly a joke, but. yeah. kinda makes you not want to reach out any more. and i know, i just reached out to the wrong person. but when that’s the only person close by it’s hard NOT to reach out to the wrong one.

side track again:

so here i am. sitting on my couch where my ass has been glued for the week. the kids come home tomorrow and the rowdy week of freedom will be over. i don’t know if there’s a point to all this. maybe it’s just me venting it all. this is titled brain vomit after all. prime example tonight. i’m out of steam whatever it is. stayed tuned for a peek into my family history.

shirt off my back

2011-03-25T01:53:00.000-07:00

it's the middle of the night on a thursday and i'm bored. so. here's a few tee shirts i would buy. i'm horrible at photo shop and all that crap, but you get the idea. if someone can make this happen i will worship you forever.

not the happiest place on earth

2011-03-10T12:10:00.000-08:00

when i was a kid we took a family vacation to california for spring break one year. after driving down in the family oldsmobile, staying in the cheapest, shittiest motels all the way there, visiting every stupid marine corps site of former glory that my mothers husband felt the need to drag us to, one terrifying day south of the border in tijuana where i was SURE we were going to be stabbed to death, we finally got to visit disneyland- my first time EVER. the ONE good thing about the trip. i was so excited to have one good thing happen that i was almost able to ignore my horrible early 90’s home made shorts, badly damaged permed frizzball hair and blue plastic framed glasses. almost. we show up, i’m all excited, then we found out that every. single. section. was closed for repairs. apparently, the big spring break rush had been a week or so before and this was their chance to close things down for repairs and maintenance. what a fucking waste of time. i remember nothing about the park. i think we walked around for a while. i KNOW we didn’t go to any of the shops or places (my mum was way too cheap for that). i just have a picture of us all standing at the front gate and that’s it.

so. you know. i get disappointment. i get showing up to the park to find out the main attraction isn’t available.

that said: GUYS: YOU ARE FUCKING IDIOTS.

tuesday night the new guy and i were supposed to go out. he ended up not being able to make it (see the previous blog about how i just don’t understand all his responsibilities...this was another instance of that). he said he felt bad and would make it up to me the next night. well, the whole day goes by and i haven’t heard from him, so i texted him early in the evening to see what the plan was. he said to let him know when the spawns went to bed. works for me. so after the spawns are both down for the count i pop him a text to let him know the coast is clear, and, by the way, mother nature stopped by for a visit but it would be great to hang out and watch a movie. yeah. i spent the night on the couch reading. alone.

NOW. i get that mother nature is a huge freak out thing for many guys. (it’s not exactly the happiest event for us either guys.) YES. I’M TALKING ABOUT MY MENSTRUAL CYCLE. uncomfortable yet? set down the offerings of caffeine and midol and back away slowly.

one friend even asked me what the hell i was thinking telling the new guy about it outright. here’s what i was thinking: I KNOW WHAT IT’S LIKE TO SHOW UP AND FIND OUT ALL THE RIDES ARE CLOSED. i’ve had guys get PISSED that they found out after the fact that the main attraction wasn’t available. i would rather be up front and say hey, the rides are closed, but you can still come hang out, see the sights, and who knows, maybe the management will open up a ride that’s generally not open to the public. you never know when an unexpected bonus like that might become available. that’s much better than showing up all excited to have your hopes and dreams dashed once you’ve already paid the fee to get in and spend the time disappointed and not able to even check about other options.

note to guys: just because aunt flo is in town does not mean that sexy time completely goes on hiatus. there are PLENTY of other things to do where you can avoid that whole section of the park (or not, depending on your opinion of things). second note to guys: YES, pms means that hormones are all over the charts. guess what? HORNY IS CONTROLLED BY HORMONES. and when hormones are boosted off the charts by pms...well...if you can’t figure out how that all works then maybe you should be allowed into the park anyway.

i’m not a bashful person (most of the time anyway). i have no problem being up front and honest about things. i am NOT the type to try to trick people or test them, ESPECIALLY when it comes to things like this. i’ve learned the hard way by accident and would rather not repeat the experience. i guess if a guy can’t handle me being up front and honest for one, and two: decides he would rather blow me off (read: no response at all) than roll the dice whether it really means a night of just hanging out or it ends up being a bonus night where the management is feeling generous, then you know what? i really could care less if he ever gets to visit the park again.

i’m going to go consume copious amounts of caffeine and midol now. call me when men learn how to grow a pair.

have patience...

2011-03-09T16:50:00.000-08:00

ok kids. this is going to be a moment of truth: i’m in the process of learning about myself. it’s going to be confusing, it’s going to be awkward, and, as per usual, you get to come along for the ride. funny thing is that i don’t even know where to start on this one. there’s an old saying: if you hear something once, you can dismiss it. if you hear it twice you should consider it. if you hear it a third time, it must be true. well, i’m one step away from an ugly truth.

i’m not sure what i’m being told is the truth, but i know that the core issue behind it is a truth. let’s start at the beginning shall we?

the new boy and i had a fight a few weeks ago. yes, already. it got ugly. hell, it got fucking nasty. we were both angry and mean. at times i was flat out vicious. he accused me of not understanding that he had responsibilities and i was angry at him for accusing me of not understanding responsibility. how could someone say that _I_ don’t understand responsibility? are you fucking kidding me? that’s all my life has been for the last 13 year. it’s why i went to college. it’s why i stayed at the same job for 10 years. it’s why i rarely go out and never get drunk with friends or date just any random guy. i have a responsibility to provide a safe, stable home for my kids. DON’T FUCKING TELL ME I DON’T UNDERSTAND RESPONSIBILITY. yes, NOW, the last MONTH, ONE MONTH, i have less responsibility: i don’t have a 9-5. i don’t have to answer to anyone right now. but i’m still responsible. i still get up and take the spawns to school every morning (and go back and get them when i realize it’s a weekend). i still pick them up every evening and make sure they have everything the need (and more than a few things that are just wants). i’m still doing what’s best for them. i’m still making sure they’re provided for and taken care of. i’m taking great care to plan things out, make sure i’m making the best decisions for us. I AM STILL RESPONSIBLE..

then, again today, a second person told me i don’t get responsibilities. that i have to remember that when you have responsibilities it affects your schedule. to be fair, this wasn’t a separate incident. i was discussing the argument above to a friend and basically he was agreeing with the new guy. so. that’s two. TWO people telling me i don’t get responsibility.

obviously my knee jerk reaction is anger...you may have picked up on a bit of that. i want to scream out “IT’S NOT TRUE” and i want to prove everyone wrong.

BUT.

it is true.

well, it is and it isn’t. i get responsibility. i am a responsible person and parent. THAT part is wrong. the core issue behind it isn’t though. when you trace these statements back and figure out where they started they have a common theme: patience.

i am not a patient person. i’ve known this my whole life. it has never been one of my virtues. ask anyone that knows me if i’m a patient person and they’ll just laugh. now i’m not TERRIBLE. i’m not one to storm the receptionist desk if the doctor is running behind. i’m not one to leave people at home or when we’re out or anywhere because they’re not ready when i am. i’m not the person drumming my fingers during a card game because the other turns are taking too long. i’m not a toe tapper of a huffer or a pacer. i can entertain myself to pass time. i can wait patiently in traffic (most days) without yelling at the other drivers. i understand that things happen, schedules change, and 95% of the time i’m able to roll with the punches and not be concerned at all.

BUT. when it comes to things like buying furniture, I WANT IT TODAY. i don’t want to have to wait for it to be ordered and shipped from white plains, wisconsin. i want to put it in my car and take it home. NOW. when it comes to ordering things online i want it TOMORROW. i’m the person checking the fed ex “track your package” three times a day like it will make things move along faster. if i see a problem or know of someone having trouble i want to fix it NOW. part of this comes from my dad. he was the type to just solve things. whatever it took, it needed to be better NOW. throw money at it, do something, make it happen. NOW. solve it. make it go away. i suppose you could describe me as impulsive or impetuous. i always take time to think things through but when the decision is made IT’S GO TIME. once i’ve set my mind to something the response needs to be immediate.

SOME TIMES this is a good thing. i’m willing to jump right in and get my hands dirty. i’m willing to come up with a solution. i’m want to DO SOMETHING instead of just sitting around with my thumb up my ass.

sometimes, this is NOT a good thing. take for example the problem at hand: understanding responsibility or not. it actually tracks back to my problem with patience. in this situation, the boy and i were arguing about how long it had been since we were able to see each other. between work, kiddo, family, life, it’s hard for him to fit in time to get together. he is a dedicated father which is a GREAT THING. when he has his son, nothing gets in the way of that. it is something i greatly admire about him. however, it limits his time to be able to go out. i get it. i’ve done 13 years of this. i know that when it was me, i tried really hard to make time for things that were important to me. BUT there have been PLENTY of times over the years though that plans got cancelled or changed. it happens. here’s another one of my flaws: when it’s me i expect everyone to just go along with it. when it’s someone else, i tend to be...well...impatient and less forgiving. i want to think they should just *poof* make time. they should just make it happen. not be tired, not have obligations. i forget how hard it can be and how sometimes you just can’t. it’s the nature of it all.

if you’ve ever watched the movie “always” with richard dryfus and john goodman there’s one of my favorite quotes to describe relationships:

pete: “love. ain’t what it used to be.”

al: “theres only ever been two kinds. there’s flash fires that are all flame and burn out quickly leaving nothing. then there’s the long burn. that’s nature’s burn. even when you think it’s out the forest floor is still warm to the touch.”

i’ve always been a flash burn girl. hot, intense, burns out quickly and there really is nothing left. no friendships, no continued contact, NOTHING. it goes fast- talking constantly, texting, “hooking up” (yes, i just used that phrase), and then just as quick: BAM. done.

that lack of patience thing right there...

i want to see the new guy any time i can. i want to hear from him. i want to be around him. i want it NOW. i don’t want to wait a week to see him again. and i get frustrated when i don’t get my way. and it comes out in me picking a fight. pushing for more time. “not understanding responsibility.” no, i understand it, it just doesn’t fit into my little time table and it needs to be MY way. yes, i realize what a selfish, immature bitch i sound like in this moment.

well, it seems that the whole flash burn thing isn’t exactly the best way to have a lasting relationship. who knew? and here i am suddenly, with a long burn guy. he’s taking time, not in a hurry, willing to put up with me and my lack of patience and my temper tantrums (so far) and take some time with this thing. how do you go from being a flash burn girl to a long burn girl? i honestly don’t know. i try to think about it and get an instant migraine. i panic. i freak the fuck out. a few days go by and i think he’s lost interest and moved on. he cancels a evening and i think it’s because he’s found someone else. i’m REALLY terrible at this. flash burns i can handle. i know how to do short term. i know how to break things and push people away so that i know what went wrong and why it ended when the timer dings so i’m not left with a bag of questions. yes, i just admitted that. sabotage is MUCH preferred over the mysterious unknown.

so. here i am. faced with the reality of what i need to become if i want a successful relationship but no idea how to get there.

I AM NOT PATIENT. i know that. what i don’t know is how to change it. i do know that, like all things, change takes time. well, how do you think that sits with someone who wants things better NOW? vicious circle. ugh. i have a migraine and i don’t know where i’m going with this.

where do i go with this? how do i start to fix it? how do you switch from a flash burn to a long burn? any suggestions? does anyone know if there’s going to be a blue light special on patience any time soon? turns out i could use a little stocking up on that...

airing my dirty laundry-

2011-03-07T13:55:00.000-08:00

let me start by saying this: i do not now, nor have i ever owned my own business. BUT, i’ve been a customer at plenty. and as such, i think i have a pretty good grasp of the way a business should work: DON’T insult your customers. DO what you reasonably can to keep them happy. doesn’t seem that difficult. apparently it is. VERY difficult.

here's a little hatorade for you: HAINSWORTH LAUNDRY: YOU CAN KISS MY ASS. i hope your business goes bankrupt, i hope you all end up in a dark alley being some big mans new girlfriend, and i hope you die in some poetic quarter related accident. (yes, quarters, as in the damn things i've had to get at the grocery store for the last few years to do my laundry).

i live in an apartment. i get that this means there are some things i sacrifice over owning my own home. one of these is having my own washer/dryer. instead we have A (yes, one) coin op in the shared basement. not only is it coin op, we still have to pay for the electricity for using it- yes, there are plug in’s labeled 1, 2, 3 for the respective apartments to plug the machines into while using them. let’s just say, i’ve been here almost 2 years and have never seen it plugged into any other outlet than mine for unit one. you’re welcome neighbors. whatever.

well. not only do we have to pay $1 to wash, $1 to dry AND for the electricity, the machines only hold HALF a standard load of laundry. ALSO? i believe they rolled off the assembly line in approximately 1970. excellent. they’re old, they hardly hold any clothes, i get charged up the ass to use them, and, final straw: they don’t clean the clothes. as in- AT ALL. they come out just as dirty as they go in. i’ve been going back and forth between this piracy and giving up one day a weekend to hit a laundromat when i get fed up with dirty clothes that have just been washed. i’ve called the business that runs the machines SEVERAL times, emailed them, everything. i’ve gotten the following responses:

1) “well, that’s what you get when you live in an apartment.” i’m sorry...WHAT? because i live in an apartment i’m suddenly a second class citizen and deserve the shittiest, oldest HALF load machine? what sort of fucking sense does that make? as a business, you have GUARANTEED business from apartments. doesn’t it make sense to keep the machines nice, modern, and actually CLEANING CLOTHES? then i won’t run off to a laundromat, YOU make more money, I’M happy. WIN-WIN.

2) “there’s nothing wrong with those machines, you must be doing your laundry wrong.” REALLY? you want to try to make me look like a fucking idiot that can’t do my own laundry? let’s see, i’ve been doing my own laundry plus my kids for...oh...15 years? but i’ve somehow been doing it wrong this whole time? because i’m that much of a fucking idiot? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? i’m sorry. you just made a BIG mistake.

after battling with this company for close to a year, getting no response from them, getting no backing from the property manager, i decided it was time to take control of the issue: I BOUGHT MY OWN WASHER/DRYER. now YES, this is a shared washer/dryer space. i realize the other tenants will be using the machines as well (especially if they’re GOOD machines that clean and don't cost a thing). i’m ok with that. i have 5 months left here- not that long in the scheme of things. i even bought the special soap to use with the machine because i don’t expect my neighbors to have to pony up and pay more AND i want the machine to work well so i’ll cover that cost. i get that there is a risk that they might be damaged by someone else, but i’d rather risk that than deal with the bullshit that i’ve been dealing with up til now.

so. tomorrow i’m going to go downstairs, disconnect the coin op ones, shove them off to the side with a nasty note attached and make room for a nice, shiny new set that will actually work. FUCK YOU shitty business that won’t lift a damn finger to keep your customers happy. FUCK YOU property management that won’t back their own tenants to try to correct the situation. FUCK YES to finally getting a good washer/dryer and finally having clean clothes again!

the company/property manager might throw a fit, but what are they going to do? kick me out? won’t hurt my feelings any- leaving in august anyway (if not before...house hunting is a whole different blog). maybe next time they’ll actually listen to the people that use the machines. maybe they’ll realize that shelling out a little to replace a 35+ year old machine will actually help make them money in the long run. maybe they’ll stop pissing off people that won’t sit back and take it.

either way: I’M GETTING A NEW WASHER/DRYER! and yes, this is a big event for me. shut it. ooo...and it has a “steam” setting....fancy.

one month slackiversary

2011-03-01T13:55:00.000-08:00

ok kids. here it is. MY ONE MONTH SLACKIVERSARY!

yes. it’s true. i have officially been sitting on my ass for a full month. and my couch has the dent to prove it.

i haven’t done much. obviously i haven’t been writing. at all. i spent a good portion of time watching ugly betty from the beginning. all four seasons. i am now approximately half the intelligence i was a month ago. seriously! that show was a train wreck. i had to keep watching even though i loathed myself for doing so. more than once the following thought passed through my mind: WANT. TO. PUNCH. TV. it’s a good thing i was lazy enough to never actually move from my couch to do said punching. i like my tv. the horrible show wasn’t it’s fault!

so. besides getting caught up on terrible tv on netflix, what else have i done?

have i started working out like i vowed? not so much. have i started writing the books i want to get out of my head? not even a word. have i been in the classrooms at school? well, actually, YES. a bit. teaching an “exploratory” on fridays at the oldest sons school for an hour each friday. teaching a class full of 9-12 year olds crochet. yes, i am that stupid. dear god i hate other people’s children. now wait, that’s not fair. MOST of the class is ok/tolerable. it’s those other few though- oh those other few. and i feel bad because i recognize them- the socially awkward girl stuck in braces/glasses that thinks the stranger she acts the more people will pay attention to her and therefore like her...NOT SO MUCH HONEY. the boy who likes the girl but thinks being mean to her is a better idea. the “i’m too smart even for the smart school” girl that i want to punch in the face. BUT, i tell myself it’s only a few weeks, they’re learning something new, i’m in his school even if he’s not in my class, AND HE LIKES that i’m teaching a class. so. as long as he likes having me on the school grounds i guess it’s all ok.

i HAVE been reading. not quite the full month of it like i planned (stupid ugly betty!), but i have been reading. if you haven’t heard of kate furnival, go look her up and read her books NOW. historicalish novels based in russia at the fall of the romanov era- REALLY well written. the books of the bizzare (there’s two of them now) are fun and interesting to read through quickly. all sorts of facts you never knew you needed to know. LOVE them. did you know when an octopus gets stressed they will eat their own tentacles? see? things you need to know! nikki sixx biography: AMAZING. slash’s biography? OBNOXIOUS. made me want to punch him in his stupid top hat. shit my dad says? hilarious and well written. i hope they serve beer in hell? PEE YOUR PANTS funny. and obnoxious. makes you want to junk punch and jump tucker max’s bones all at the same time. full of the stupidest things any boy could ever think to do, the worst ways to EVER treat women, the most offensive references to women, having sex with them, ways to describe them, and i’m peeing my pants through all of it. now i HAVE to watch the movie. i have a stack of 14 more books to read and more being delivered by barnes and noble any day now. basically: don’t expect me to do anything real any time soon.

oh. and there’s boys. of course there’s boys. you didn’t think i would completely let you down did you?

where to start? biggest train wreck first? or the creepiest? then there’s the two that i promised i would never speak of. so. this is me not speaking of them. now you’re curious...right? too bad. i keep my promises. oh. and then there’s the worst of all: a good one. *sigh*

ok. creepiest first: guy popped up on plenty of fish via email. seemed mostly normal. emailed back and forth a few times, then he popped up on instant messenger (the site has it’s own messenger). this is all in the time span of about 20 minutes. so we’re instant messaging, he’s kinda getting my jokes, isn’t at all what i would seriously consider, but at the same time isn’t completely obnoxious. yet. out of the blue he’s all: I’M COMING TO SEE YOU. started asking which bar i wanted to meet at for a drink. umm...wow. run away freight train anyone? even better? HE LIVES IN TRICITIES. it’s 9 at night, i’ve been talking to him for about 30 minutes, the weather is SHIT, and he decided he wants to drive up to spokane to have a drink. we went from zero to FREAK ALERT in about 30 seconds. no, it wasn’t flattering, it was creepy. i kept trying to think of way to put him off, the roads are bad, i have to get up early for car pool, no, i really didn’t want to go out for a drink. or food. OR ANYTHING. but this guy just wasn’t getting it. allegedly (my crystal ball is on the fritz, so i didn’t actually SEE anything to prove it was true) he got into his rig and started heading this way. then he realized (allegedly) how bad the roads actually were, turned around, and emailed that he wasn’t coming but wanted to meet on the weekend at a bar in davenport that his friend owns. now. do i know if he actually got in his truck and started driving? no. could have been a big show to try to impress me (ummm...FAIL). could have been a bathroom break. no idea. but suffice to say, i was RELIEVED. would i have actually met up with him if he had come to town? scary to say, but yes. i have this odd guilt thing about shit like that. if he had spent 2.5 hours driving here in shit weather, i would have at least met him for a drink. in a VERY public place. with several friends (and the police) on standby. luckily that was the last i heard of him save a few follow up emails that weren’t returned. oh, and there was this whole bit about how he expected me to dress up for him (still not sure what he meant by that), the whole racist/homophobe comments he kept dropping, and the creepy way he kept saying he couldn’t wait to get me in his hot tub. ew.

guy #2: oh my. T.R.A.I.N. W.R.E.C.K. younger kid: mistake #1. he’s a 25ish punk kid that is every kind of messed up you can imagine. first, let’s start with his profile: two of his pictures are of him smoking, neither shows him in a particularly good mood. or even a recent lingering good mood. then there’s his catchy “about me”: Well i like all kinds of things. videogames, camping, traveling anything really. I am going to SCC to get my AA and then after that im going to move on to Eastern to do something with history.

wow. all those details. so much information. “all kinds of things.” what more does a girl need to know? oh just wait...HE HAS A SON. normally not a big deal until you hear the story: he knocked up his parents cleaning gal: “...she said she couldn’t get pregnant. or at least she hadn’t since her last kid who is 9.”

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? a girl with multiple kids, the youngest is 9 and she hasn’t gotten knocked up again, so suddenly she “can’t” get prego and you fall for it? and you reproduced from that shockingly shallow gene pool? thank you for lowering the future iq of america even further.

now. here’s the rest of the gory details: he’s 26, lives at home with his parents because he DOESN’T WANT TO WORK (i mean, he’s in college. work AND college are just too hard you know). not only does his live at home with his parents, he happened to mention that he sleeps on a mattress on the floor because it’s just not worth paying money for a bed. ooo...think of all the lucky girls that get dragged back to that patch of floor. he’s thought it would be cool to tell me that he’s been on plenty of fish for a while now and has contacted EVERY. SINGLE. GIRL. on the site. he goes for the shotgun effect: if he emails ALL of them, then at least SOME of them are bound to respond. seriously? that’s your dating philosophy? aim for them all and go for the ones that actually respond? oh.my.god.

just when you think it can’t get any better: he tells me about growing up. he was out on his own at 14 renting an apartment with his manager from wendy’s. ok- that kinda sucks. kinda start to feel bad for him. don’t worry, didn’t last long. right after that he launches into how that started him moving around to all different cities all the time. pattern went like this: abandon current apartment, move to a new city, live in a homeless shelter for a few weeks, hit up all the local charities for help, get a job, get an apartment (furnished by said charities), get tired of said city, abandon apartment, repeat.

some would find this resourceful and creative and hippie erotic. i find it a pathetic way to live, sucking resources from people who will actually use them to set up a REAL life, and a creepy way of probably hiding from more things than i want to know about. like this little jewel: he’s an excellent store robber. never been caught. he has a great gut instinct that lets him know when shits going to hit the fan so he can get out early. excellent. he’s the best convenience store robber in all the land. how could a girl possibly feel any more lucky? oh, but she can.

as if the illegitimate merry maid in training wasn’t enough, or the bouncing from homeless shelter to homeless shelter, OR the prolific robbery career, there’s also his magical way with words. “hey punk, send me some shower pictures.” how can a girl possibly resist that? “you need to bring me a sandwich and a blow job.” what the fucking fuck makes you think i would even piss on you if you were on fire, let alone get you a sandwich and a blow job? “what are you up to? i should slap you.” umm...how is this even remotely a conversation starter? do girls find the offer of getting slapped attractive?

just for shits and giggles (and because i knew it would be good writing material), we went out for a drink (i told you i had to see it in person). the bar closed early but he didn’t want to go home (oh yeah, did i mention? he doesn’t have a car, you have to drive to his parents house and pick him up for such a blessed event). i’m not quite through being entertained by this train wreck, so we try to figure out something to do. he wants to go to the strip club because he TOTALLY knows how to play all the strippers- i mean they’re just dumb bitches and he’s totally figured out their game. *PAUSE* strike 902 asshole. you’re not fooling anyone. i know several of those girls and i would NEVER, EVER, EVER expose them intentionally to an ass wipe like you. you are fucked in the head if you think you know how to “trick” them into anything. on behalf of all the darling girls that i know that are 900 times more brave than i am for working at the clubs and putting up with the assholes like you, GO TO FUCKING HELL for even thinking that way about them. *UNPAUSE* nope, wait, *PAUSE AGAIN* i want to junk punch your defective baby maker so hard that your tonsils are replaced with your balls and then run you over with my car 47 and half times for the way you talk about them. assholes like you should be branded on the forehead so the bouncers will recognize you on site and never let you near my girls. EVER. *UNPAUSE*

i politely decline the strip club suggestion and decide instead to take him to the castle. now. if you don’t know, the castle is an “adult mega store.” read: costco of sex toys. i have this theory that you’ll learn all you need to know about a guy by the way he acts in an adult store. you’ll find out what he makes fun of, how comfortable he is with himself, and possibly get a preview of the inner freak. THIS GUY: classic. awkwardly making fun of the different games. showing disgust at several of the toys (most of which i already have at home in my toybox), trying to impress me with all his high school sexual antics (so, i was at this party and was really smashed and all the bedrooms were filled, so i fucked a girl on the couch in front of everyone. umm...EW). like there weren’t already enough strikes against him from the whole night, and all the things he was making fun of, he had the gall, the fucked up audacity, to make fun of pin up girls. there were several books sitting out- vintage bettie page, suicide girls, other pin up models and pictures and he was talking about how stupid they were and how they’re not sexy at all. they’re boring to look at. i’m sorry, WHAT? might not seem like a big thing in the overall count of him splendidly striking out, but you’re talking to a girl that’s about to get a pin up girl tattooed on her body. i think they are GORGEOUS. the vintage girls are the most beautiful example of the way women SHOULD be- curvy, confident, and damn sexy- they made those old neck to knee swim suits look hotter than any micro bikini i’ve ever seen. *le sigh* so. we have: making fun of sex toys that i own, making fun of one of the things i find stunningly sexy, AND bragging about possibly the most degrading sexcapade i’ve ever heard of. yup. i think i learned PLENTY from this trip. THAT will never get near me. EVER.

from the atomic cheesecake studios

all for you kids. well, partly because there’s nothing like seeing a good train wreck in person, but more because there’s nothing like being able to share that train wreck later with other people.

now. the other boy. um. well. let’s put it this way, my darling friend across the mountains has yet to miss a prediction about the men i meet. he NAILS IT every single time. knows exactly how the train wreck is going to happen, when, and where. he has yet to make i mistake or incorrectly predict the male flight patterns in and out of my life. his prediction on this one? i believe it went something like this: “he’s in it for the long haul.”

even typing that made me take an hour long break. not even kidding. wow. “long haul” what the eff is that?

i don’t even know what to make of that. i mean. long haul? strange thing is, i can kinda see it. and i think i’m kinda ready for it. especially after the last year- it would be nice to have some semblance of belonging again. and yes, i realize that’s not a reason to...whatever...long haul it with someone, but it’s something. it’s a start.

wow. mood swing much? i blame netflix. went from a comedy to a dramedy. totally changed the blog. sorry kids. shouldn’t write and watch at the same time. anytwaddle. it’s time to get back to my busy schedule of nothing. SOMEONE has to be a professional slacker and today that someone is ME. so. happy one month slackiversary!

2011-01-28T00:02:00.000-08:00

ok. i’m going to start by shouting out random things that i want to make sure to cover, follow along: ultrasound, taco bell, tattoo, work, fish, the OTHER fish, therapy, friends

and go:

so. my oldest spawn has been feeling sick off and on for a little over a week. he’s had an upset tummy that’s gone north and south on him at the most random times- after eating, middle of the night, at school, sitting around doing nothing, out running errand...i haven’t been able to track it to food or activity or being particularly sick. he’s been complaining about how bad it hurts and it’s not getting better, so i decided to take him in to the doctor finally. first thing the doctor said: is he always this white? i laughed. see, we’re not just white people. we have to fucking TAN to reach white. casper the friendly ghost looks at us and goes DAMN BITCH, hit a beach once in a while! so it thought it was funny that the doctor pointed that out first.

anytwaddle. doc looks him over and can’t find anything, can’t pick out a pattern that i missed, a trigger that stands out so he orders a blood panel and an ultrasound. SPIFFY. at least it’s two days BEFORE i lose my insurance, not two days after. BUT. this means there’s only two days left of work and BOTH days i’m training my replacement which means _I_ can’t take spawn to the ultrasound. fuck. if i wait til i can take him there’s no insurance. but how do i work it while i still have it??? FUUUUUUUUCCCCKKK.

rescued: friend was able to take the spawn to the ultrasound for me (that’s a whole story in itself). spawn eats a fat free (as much as possible) dinner the night before, fasts, yadda yadda, goes to the ultra sound (I’M NOT A GRANDMA!) pictures of his belly, the whole works, back to school, long story short his belly looks normal, we’re waiting for blood work. whatever.

THE POINT: spawn has a tummy ache for a week. doctor worthy. ultrasound worthy. what does he do as soon as the ultra sound is over? asks my friend to take him to taco bell for lunch. THEN, later at school to impress friends, he eats packets of hot sauce.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

*slowly counting to ten*

yeah. i think i know what the stomach problem is. fuck. all that stress for nothing.

so. there’s taco bell and ultrasound off the list.

TATTOO!! the sleeve is basically finished! well, half sleeve. and all but the shading! HOORAY! there’s pics on my facebook. if you don’t follow my facebook, you’re lame and you dont’ deserve to see pictures. just kidding...LOOK, PICTURES!

fish: which to start with? there’s TWO fish at work here...ummm...i’ll take door number one bob:

if you’ve been hiding under a rock, here’s a news flash: i quit my job. technically i turned in the notice back in november, but tomorrow is finally the actual last day! dear st peter on the crapper...what have i done? i’m actually doing this! it’s really here!

so, the good people in my department took me out to lunch today to say goodbye- SO FUCKING SWEET. really. i’ll miss the people a TON. boss even asked me today if i’m going to come back to keep doing meals on wheels with him one wednesday a month. SO SWEET. so lunch: my boss also bought me a going away gift: a picture. a really fucking cool picture. it’s two fish bowls next to each other. one has a bunch of fish, the other only has one fish. in between the two bowls is one fish in the process of jumping from one bowl to the other...in support of me jumping out into the unknown and taking a new path. HOW FUCKING COOL IS THAT??

i’m really going to miss the people. not so much the work, i’m really excited for the whole doing my own thing, but the people...damn, there’s some wicked awesome people there. i’ll have to stop in and say hi every now and again.

now to the other fish. yes, i signed up on plentyoffish again. all for you people. you know you love the train wrecks. so. here i am all optimistic about meeting some freaks and getting some great stories for you guys. then i have to go find a normal one that i actually kinda might be liking a little bit. so. sorry about that everyone. i’ll let you know when the inevitable happens and it goes up in flames. i’m sure it will be spectacular!

so. a few weeks ago a friend an i were laughing about what a hot mess i am at times and he jokingly suggested that it would take years of therapy to fix me. i laughed. he didn’t realize i’ve been in therapy (off and on) since i was 17. more off than on, but since lpsing my dad i’ve been going every two weeks to figure this whole mess out. and guess what: I’M NORMAL well, as normal as anyone could expect given the fucked up family i was raised with and the shit that’s hit the fan since then. but that’s life, you know? we all have our issues and shit hands that have been dealt to us at times. the important thing is how you deal with it and and how you work through it all. big news: i learned something important about myself: I AM A GOOD COMMUNICATOR. i’ve tried. i’ve tried FOREVER to learn how to talk to people, to think things through, listen more than i speak, make sure that what i’m saying is what i truly mean, so many different things. i’ve had many friendships and relationships end because of arguments and what i thought was my inability to communicate. i realize now that is probably partially true, but i was trying my damndest. i still have a TON of learning to do, we all do, BUT, I AM GOOD. so. .there’s that. it was a nice boost. a little affirmation.

and finally: friends: they’re amazing. everyone should get some. yes, cop out. i got tired and got side tracked and forgot what i was going to say. there’s that excellent communication at work...ha ha. anytwaddle. friends are good, i’ll think of the point to this after some sleep and get back to you. but for now: here’s the tip of the day: if you ever feel the need to sneeze but it’s a bad time, picture a purple cow with pink spots. sneeze: GONE. so. there. you learned something.

gone fishing...

2011-01-18T15:28:00.000-08:00

i'm pretty sure i've posted something similar to this before. maybe not. maybe i've just thought it a hundred and twelve times but never written it out. a QUICK (i scanned) review of my last whatever blogs under the "dating" tag didn't make this sound like a repeat, so for all intensive purposes, unless you can prove me wrong, let's consider this a brand new shiny post. here we go:

so, as it turns out, i am either a) a complete idiot, b) a glutton for punishment, or c) both.

i have signed up, yet again, on one of those online dating websites. I’M BORED. ok? shut it. plus? you guys get all the good reading without any of the permanent personal trauma. you know you love me for taking this bullet for you.

there’s one thing that is abundantly clear looking at these sites: GUYS ARE DISGUSTING MONKEYS (no offense to any male readers, but you kinda are).

now i’ll admit it right up front: i’m a shallow, petty, snarky bitch. and when i say bitch, i mean: judgmental, catty, mean, and did i say shallow?

I WILL JUDGE YOU BASED SOLELY ON WHAT YOU CHOSE AS YOUR PROFILE PICTURE.

i’m not sorry either. if you can’t take the time to pick a decent picture, i can’t take the time to look at you in any way other than to make fun of you.

here’s what is NOT a decent picture:

anything showing JUST your bare chest/stomach. two strikes: if you have such a picture but list yourself as looking for a “serious relationship.” umm…BULLSHIT. you know you’re looking for sex. i know you’re looking for sex. just list that you’re looking for sex, call it a day and i won’t have to hate you for being an asshole liar AND a total douchecanoe.

any form of a wife beater in the picture. DOUBLE THAT if said wife beater has stains on it. REALLY? you couldn’t find a picture with a real shirt without stains to post as your profile pic? and you wonder why you’re still single? it’s a fucking mystery.

pictures of you sitting at your computer desk with a stack of laundry/dirty dishes/trash piles in the back ground. REALLY? and let me guess, our first conversation will revolve around which level you’re up to on w.o.w. nice. get off your damn computer. get outside. interact with other REAL people. vomit.

pictures of you with any other woman: REALLY? i don’t care if it’s your mom/sister/bff/kidney donor. NO. just NO. are you fucking kidding me?

duck face? it’s bad enough on women. on men? OH HELL NO YOU DIDN’T.

pictures of you with your kids. i get that you love them. do YOU get that this is a free site and any creepy pedo can jump on here and snag your precious spawn for their disgusting library? do you really want to put your kid at risk like that? i get that your world revolves around them and they’re your #1 priority and you’re a fantastic family man…you made sure to say it 900 times in the 3 sentences you posted about yourself. but PICTURES? REALLY?

bonus tip: i know that whatever’s in the picture with you is what will take top priority in the relationship be it friends, cars, pets, kids, family, whatever. if i see anything besides YOU in the picture, i’m skipping it. you on a mountain top? nice. well done. i’m not hiking up a fucking mountain with you, and it’s a sure thing that i’ll be asked at some point. no, i don’t care that you restored that car by sacrificing every weekend (and every penny) for 80 years. kinda figured that’s where the single thing came from. your MOM? cut the fucking apron strings already. save the freak show for a third date. let me get used to YOU first.

now, as to the actual profile: IF YOU CAN’T USE REAL WORDS IN REAL SENTENCES YOU’RE DONE. while we’re at it: YOUR, YOU’RE. i hate you already.

“i’ve never done something like this before…” i don’t give a fucking rats ass, you’re here now so let’s just start there.

“i’m not sure what to say about myself…” then i’m not sure i want to spend any more time even considering you. “i’m a pretty normal guy…” BULLSHIT. we’re all crazy to some degree. own it. fly that freak flag proudly.

“i’m just getting out of a long painful relationship…” i’m not dr. phil. fix your shit, THEN sign up on here. i’m not going to waste my time making you all better cause guess what? I CAN’T. that’s all on you freakaziod.

“no drama, no games…” cue freak show music. this means you’re ALL drama and ALL games. you just don’t want competition.

email: general rule of thumb: the number of words you type in your email is exactly equivalent to the amount of time i’ll spend considering you. if “hi” is all you can manage? GONE. “wuzz up?” PISS OFF. “you’re pretty hot.” DUH. FUCKING IDIOT. get the trend here? send me a REAL message and show me you can string together more than three syllables and form a coherent thought without hurting yourself. MAYBE then you’ll get a response.

i’m a being a picky selective bitch and is this probably why i’m still single?

yup.

accusation

2011-01-12T10:26:00.000-08:00

i can’t think straight this morning. i am so livid that i can’t focus on anything or even pretend to work until i get this out of my head.

this morning i was accused of using my kids (or taking them away) against a friend as punishment for an argument between us. i was accused of taking things that i know about her and using them against her to get back at her.

*deep breath*

i have NEVER. EVER. in my entire life, EVER done that to anyone. EVER. i am not a vindictive person. i do not sit around plotting ways to get back at people. i do not seek revenge. and i would NEVER, EVER use my kids as a form of punishment.

my gut wants to lash out and say “well, that makes sense. people that DO things like that would be more apt to accuse others of that.” i really feel that’s the truth. i have never, ever in my life, plotted against someone. i have never, ever thought about what would hurt someone the most based on their history or experiences and then done something to intentionally cause hurt. to even be accused of that is one of the most egregious things.

i guess it goes to show that even the people i thought knew me don’t know me at all. i honestly can’t believe someone would accuse me of that. and to say that i used my kids as a form of punishment. i am livid about that accusation. even in the WORST of my divorce, the worst of my fights with the oldest spawns father, the worst of the fights with my mum (before i had to cut all ties for safety), i never, EVER, EVER brought my kids into things. my ex-husband had a toxic, horrible relationship, but when it came to our son, i would set that aside and allow him visitations because it was best for my son. he has since chosen not to exercise that right, but to this day, i would happily put my issues aside if it meant my son had a father figure. yes, even knowing what a toxic person he is, because when push comes to shove it is still his father and half of who he is.

the oldest spawns father and i used to go rounds. there were times when we HATED each other. we were young and stupid and angry. but that NEVER came between the spawn and his father. sure there were drop off/pick up sessions where NOTHING was said between the father and i, but my spawn still had his visits. same with my mum. as mad as i would be at her, if the kids wanted to see her, they were more than allowed to because it’s good for them to have contact with family.

even with this friend now- whatever our issue is, i have never once stopped the oldest spawn from email her or calling her. so to be accused of taking them away from her as a punishment…it just makes no sense.

i just. *sigh* i can’t imagine that i’m being accused of being that person. i don’t even have the capability to be that person. there have been times where i WISHED i could be that person. i wished i knew how to take revenge or play games or use things against people, but i can’t even begin to wrap my head around the how and the why and the energy and planning that it takes. it’s always fascinated me watching reality tv because those characters are so foreign to me and i just can’t even imagine how they do it.

there has to be a point or a lesson in here somewhere. there needs to be something i take forward from this: i guess there can be a few things:

#1 you can never really know someone and what they truly think of you. guard yourselves, and always know who YOU are to be able to know when such accusations are truth or not. i will not question myself or who i am because of this because i know it is not even a fraction true. but it still hurts that someone could think this of me.

#2 i think what people portray on to you shows their own true colors. i really believe that an accusation like this must come from someone inclined to behave like this themselves. i don’t think i could ever accuse someone of behavior like this because it is the last thing i would ever think of doing and therefore wouldn’t even be an option of explanation to me. said another way: i don’t think i could ever accuse someone of acting out a behavior i couldn’t even think of doing myself. this is also the reason i would make a lousy cop. the things people do astound me every. single. day. i cant imagine the energy people put into some of the things they do. USE YOUR POWERS FOR GOOD, NOT EVIL. that’s a side track, but it still applies. mostly.

anytwaddle. vent over. i’m sure there are more lessons hidden in this one, but it will take me a while to get over the shock and be able to absorb them. so. for now. i’m purged. the anger is gone. and we’re moving forward.

and then i was all...

2011-01-11T13:48:00.000-08:00

today has been deemed random blog post day. there’s too many ideas to narrow it down to one. so. strap in. it could be a fucked up ride.

first off. i’m disappointed with myself. i knew that making changes in my life would open me up to new things, different things, the same things from a different perspective. i didn’t expect to hate- nay- loathe myself this early on in the process. yes, that’s right friends, a dixie chicks song made sense to me. I KNOW. i’m ashamed enough for all of us. but really…all of a sudden i’m listening to my mp3 and wide open spaces pops up and it just made sense. and yes, that was me admitting to having it on my mp3 thus giving it the ability to pop up and cause this whole identity crisis. going down in flames before i’ve even started the journey.

next. i have decided that i HATE tall book shelves. will never own another one again. ever. now i’m a tall person, so please don’t think i’m height discriminating. actually, think that all you want CAUSE I AM. i hate tall book shelves. you can never see what’s on top, they take up a whole wall, and if you’re not crazy diligent then whole villages of dust bunnies will move in and take over the place. i decided this weekend that the tall book shelves had to go. i swapped them out for little half height cubicle shelves and I LOVE IT SO MUCH. i have space to set things and decorate. i have wall space to hang pictures. i have NO MORE DUST VILLAGES. seriously, the swiffer duster was disgusting when i finished cleaning off the old shelves. it was a relatively small change, but it made a HUGE difference in my house- less claustrophobic, more clean, better displayed, all around happier shelves. it’s the little things that make a difference.

random #3: i broke my new car. yes, bonnie has been mortally injured. ok. maybe not mortally, it was more like a hangnail, but it happened. i was backing out of my garage and discovered that my side mirror does NOT bend backwards, and more importantly, does NOT bend back forwards after being bent backwards. also: insurance/warranty doesn’t cover stupid. so. $180ish later bonnie has been fixed and now my new car is old. the first official battle wound. all fixed up and better, but i’ll always know that the original side mirror met an untimely demise.

if insanity is defined by repeating the same action and expecting different results: I’M INSANE. we tried another pet. I KNOW. someone needs to put my picture up at the pound and not even let me in the door. BUT: the cat has made it over a year, so i’m not completely hopeless. so. the story goes like this: we adopted an akita. BEAUTIFUL dog. he was 3 years old, fully grown, and fit right in. was perfectly behaved while we were home over christmas break. got along perfectly with the kids, didn’t mind the cat, acted great when people came over and we did glee karaoke at way too loud of a volume with way too big of actions to go with the singing. strike that- there’s no such thing as too loud or too big of actions when it’s glee karaoke. but you get the idea. GREAT dog. no accidents in the house, didn’t even think about chewing up one thing, didn’t cause any problems. then we had to go back to school/work. turns out he had a bit of an anxiety/separation issues thing going on. TORE THE HOUSE APART. destroyed the kitchen blinds/curtains. shredded the plastic blinds in the living room. that was the first day. so i thought: my bad for leaving him out, i’ll put him in a kennel. second day: destroyed the kennel. or more correctly the contents of the kennel and everything near by. i had left a blanket, a bowl of water, and some toys in with him. DESTROYED. and he somehow managed to pull a stuffed giraffe off a shelf nearby and eat that. apparently the giraffe wasn’t good eating according to the mess that was smeared all over the kennel, through the wire mesh, EVERYWHERE. so i thought: my bad for leaving things in the kennel with him. so. day three: dog, rawhide, kennel. came home to the kennel TORN APART. still no idea how he did it. one of the big wire kennels and he managed to tear one of the doors down. it’s the kind that can collapse for travel, so it’s not a complete feat of strength, but still- those things are pretty damn solid when you put them together. but he tore it apart and got out. so. he had to go back. he was GREAT when we were home, but there’s no way we could have a dog that couldn’t be left alone. we’re gone more than i realized- grocery shopping, errands, movies- just a deal breaker for us. so. no more dog. back to just the cat. who, by the way, is even MORE obnoxious now that she is back to being an “only child.” ugh.

random #15: i think i broke my finger. well, not my finger, the knuckle on my right pointer finger. it hurts.

so. we all know how hard it is to take a GOOD picture of ourselves. don’t lie- you know you’ve tried it a million times on your digital camera or cell phone and HATED the results. know what’s even harder? taking a good picture of your own arm. it’s REALLY HARD PEOPLE. i’ve been trying to take a picture of my sleeve for a few weeks now and just can’t make it work. even got the spawn to try it…well…that’s a whole different story. you thought _I_ was technologically incapable? turns out it gets worse when you pass that gene on. anytwaddle: i have a half sleeve tatt now that is almost done and i can’t get a good picture of it to show off. so. imagine flowers. there you go. that’s all i can do for now. (not really, THIS is all i can do for now:

random #5: there’s something very liberating about realizing you’re learning how to get past what you think other people will think. i’ve had a nasty habit…well…forever…of editing what i write depending on how i think people will respond to it. i’m (slowly) learning how to get over that. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR HOW PEOPLE FEEL. i write what i write. how people feel in response to that is up to them. i can’t dictate what mood they’re in or how they interpret something or the voice they attach to my writing. IT IS OUT OF MY CONTROL, AND I AM OK WITH THAT. that’s a hard sentence to write. especially for a complete control freak. i know how things sound in _MY_ head and how i would LIKE them to sound in your head, but i can’t control that and it’s ok. i don’t need to let that dictate what i’m going to write and how i’m going to express myself. i will not be unnecessarily vicious or mean (well, not without proper warning anyway). i will not go out of my way to offend people or be completely out in left field. but it will happen from time to time that people are offended. or that they didn’t read a particular post the way i intended it to come off. AND THAT’S OK. along the same vein: it’s liberating to look at situations that are already in turmoil or where there are already problems and be able to speak my mind. i’m slowly leaning that the things i think are the worst that could happen rarely do happen. the worst response that i think i’ll get is rarely the true response that i do get. and when things are already in turmoil or when there’s already a problem it’s not like i can mess it up any more. well, i probably can, but that’s not the point. if there’s already a rift or a lack of communication, what is there to lose by speaking my mind? if someone has cut me out of their life or decided to move on, what do i have to lose by speaking my peace? the answer: NOTHING. and it generally helps me out to know that i’ve done and said everything i could on my end. but it really is liberating to realize that. so. learn from me. your yoda i am.

you can shoot me now. i apologize for that. can’t believe i just dropped a yoda line on you people. i’m sincerely sorry. i suppose i could delete it, but eh…that means backtracking and hitting extra buttons and it just sounds like too much work.

BIG NEWS: i’ve decided what i want to write first. i’m going to write my story! i’ve been thinking about it lately and i just really need to get all my history out of my head before i can get a character with a history of their own up in there mixing everything up. so. that’s my starting point. ME. i’m excited to see how it will turn out. that may sound strange, but you know how it goes- different parts and pieces come together at different times and it make all different stories. i don’t know what will be important or come to the front or want to be written about first. but i’m excited to see what path it takes, which of my experiences makes the cut, and what it tells in the long run. think of all the different blogs- how on different days, different pieces of my past have come forward to shine. they weren’t all in order, they didn’t all have the same tone or purpose to them, but they were all important and all were pieces of me. so. i’m excited put it into book form and see where it goes. hooray! a starting point!

i’m sure there’s a million other random things that i’ve been thinking of that i’ll think of again later, but right now…i think i’m good. i think that’s most of it. i’m doing a ton of thinking today apparently. and i like the work apparently apparently. there will be a more serious post up on the meatball page in a bit...so, if this doesn’t suit you today, give me a few minutes and we’ll try something different.

girl problems

2011-01-05T10:59:00.000-08:00

i’m going to rant. it’s going to be mean, it’s going to be ugly, it’s going to be judgmental. so. you know. if you’re not in the mood for that, turn away now.

you’ve been warned.

so. the oldest spawn had a girlfriend for a while. now. i’m not a big fan of the whole girlfriend thing at this age (he’s 12 if you’re playing along at home) BUT i know that they’ll fade and break up on their own soon enough so there’s really no need for me to be sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. i tried to keep my opinions to myself on this one, but i didn’t do a very good job. BUT THERE WAS A REASON.

right about the same time the spawn acquired this cling-on he was also allowed to set up an email account. i told him i would be checking it from time to time until we establish a good level of trust that it’s being used properly. he understands and is ok with this.

so with the email account came emails from the girlfriend.

i get that they’re 12. i get that they’re hormonal. i get that things are different now than 18 years ago when i went through all this crap. i get it. i do. BUT. there’s some things that still are not ok.

this girl is a FREAK. and for me, the queen of slightly off kilter to say that…it’s bad. it’s fucked up. it started with the “i love you” bullshit. i personally think that 12 years old is way too young to be saying things like that. ESPECIALLY the first week you’re “dating” someone. are you fucking kidding me? emo much? FUCK. then comes the bullshit of “my mom is so happy that i’m with you now because i was always depressed and suicidal before”

YOU’RE TWELVE YEARS OLD. are you fucking kidding me parents? you’re teaching your daughter that it’s ok to put that on someone else? to let her make someone else feel responsible for her happiness? what the fuck happened to teaching your daughter to like herself and be comfortable and secure ALONE? how dare you let her put that pressure on my son?

then comes the bullshit of “why don’t you say i love you anymore? are you getting tired of me? i can’t imagine my life without you…”

OH HELL NO. you’re not starting some bullshit drama up in here. my son is NOT required to tell you he loves you to keep you happy. you are NOT allowed to put all this pressure on him and make him feel like if he wants to get out of it (like most 12 year olds tend to do) that he’s ruining your life or risking you hurting yourself. OH FUCK NO YOU DON’T.

but then things mellowed out for a while, the school break came up, things naturally cooled off and i backed off. **NOTE: i wasn’t doing anything during all the drama besides reminding my son he is NOT responsible for another person’s emotions. he can’t make someone happy (or sad) that is THEIR decision. he needs to treat all people with respect and be a good person, he’s not allowed to be mean to people, make fun of them, any of that, but from there on out the responsibility is on the other person.

so. they went on their first little “date.” it was annoying. whatever. typical 12 year old date. they went for frozen yogurt and he sat at one table, she sat at a different table with her friends and the girls chatted while my son made origami. nothing big. then they went on a second "date" to the movies on sunday. all cool, mellow, no big deal.

*sigh*

then they went back to school. and the shit hit the fan. i guess on monday my son let this little gal know that he wanted to hang out with his friends a bit since they haven’t seen each other for a few weeks during break. no big deal. BUT during recess another girl happened to have the audacity to talk to my son. and the world ended. and the emails flooded in. all the insecurity came pouring out. i guess there were MANY tears in the hallway at school and much drama. the girlfriend saw my spawn talking to this other girl and all hell broke loose about “i know she’s prettier and smarter than me, but it would tear me apart to lose you, i can’t imagine my life without you” and all this bullshit.

OH FUCK NO. he’s allowed to talk to whomever he wants with no drama. there’s none of this pushing your insecurity on my son. i get that you’re 12 and you’re going through the awkward hormonal phase. but COME ON. the girlfriend spent hours in the hallway at school crying because some other girl talked to him for two minutes while he was hanging out with guy friends. oh lordy. i fucking hate girls.

so. my spawn decides he doesn’t want to put up with the drama. we talk about it, i explain why it bothers me, i explain that i understand that he likes her and the decision is his. we talk about ways to make it better or to “break up” without causing more problems. i remind him that this is HIS business, he doesn’t need to talk about it with all the people in school and try to get friends going against each other or finding things out. i try to guide him through it a little bit. there’s no reason to make it into a whole school issue of he-said, she-said back and forth and causing problems in the hallways.

so. he decides to go ahead and “break up” with her. i told him he can blame me, i told him he could say he’s not old enough to deal with all the emotions and responsibilities of this (he’s really not yet), i told him he could just say he wants to hang out with his friends and have her be a friend again…lots of options.

so yesterday at school i guess he did the deed: he told her that he’s not old enough for something this serious right now and he wants to wait until he’s older to date someone and say things about being in love with them. he wants to just hang out and be friends again and not have to worry about all the other stuff. i have no idea how he actually said it, i’m sure it wasn’t the smoothest process, they are 12 after all, but i think he did the best he could.

but. *sigh* drama was not to be avoided. at least it wasn’t in the hallways at school this time. it was all via email. and the email went something like this (yes, i looked. yes, i copied and pasted. yes, i’m sure on some level that’s a bad parent thing to do. but…oh hell, i don’t care. whatever. here’s her email)

If you are wondering why I'm not upset, it's because I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself for being an idiot. I was hot headed, jealous and rushed things. So I'm not mad at you.

I was really suicidal about everything for awhile.

I just wanted to ask you if we could stay friends. If you want to, we can wait until were older to be boyfriend and girlfriend again. But if you don't want to, I understand. Can we pretend like nothing happened and just be friends for now until the day you want to be together again? (if that day comes)

DID YOU CATCH THAT? a twelve year old girl is suicidal about breaking up? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE PARENTS AT IN THIS BULLSHIT?? this girl needs some HELP. i can’t believe at 12 she can even pretend to have a grasp of what that means. or what it implies. or what responsibility that puts onto other people. WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE PARENTS? why are you letting your daughter be this way? why aren’t you looking for ways to help her? why aren’t you teaching her to be a strong confident young lady? why are you allowing her to learn to hinge her happiness on others? why are you teaching her to validate herself in relationships? ESPECIALLY AT THIS TENDER AGE? in the middle of hormones and growing up and not knowing anything. THIS IS WHEN YOU TEACH THEM. this is when you guide them. you DO NOT let your 12 year old daughter make my son feel like he’s going to cause her to commit suicide. we’ve dealt with suicide in our family. I KNOW what it means. I KNOW what it does to other people. I KNOW how it makes people feel. you may NOT let your daughter put that on my son. PARENTS: PULL YOUR FUCKING PREPPY HEADS OUT OF YOUR ASSES AND DO SOMETHING HERE.

so. the spawn and i had a long talk last night. we talked about how the girl might feel this way. we talked again about how it’s not his responsibility to make her happy. it’s not ok for her to make him feel the pressure of her being suicidal or not. she’s growing up and going through changes the same way he is, and she’s trying to learn how to deal with all the emotions and things, just not in the right way yet apparently. we talked about how it may be best to just be friends with people for a few years to avoid more problems like this. he can totally blame me if he wants, tell them that his mom won’t let him have a girlfriend. i’m completely ok being the bad guy in these situations. i reminded him again today before school to ignore all the talk in the hallways, it’s no one’s business but his. her friends can’t make him fell bad. he doesn’t need to discuss all the details and talk about it- it will only make things worse and cause more problems. water off a ducks back. they’ll probably be mean because she’s hurt and they want to defend her- that’s ok. it’s all part of the process…just don’t get into it with them. let it slide. just keep walking and stay out of it.

i know today is going to be a hard one for him. i know that girls (and their friends) can be vicious and mean when things like this happen. i know people are going to be talking and blaming and whatever. i hope he makes it through the day relatively unscathed. i’m REALLY glad that he has the boys and girls club after school- the director there (bobby) is REALLY great about helping the guys through stuff like this, giving them good advice, listening, being there for them.

i’m just mad as fuck that he’s had to learn this already- especially to this extreme. grumpy mama bear.

stupid girls.

a farewell to 2010

2010-12-31T16:41:00.000-08:00

well, another year is coming to an end. i'm not sure what it means any more- the changing of one year to another. do i believe that magically over night with the dropping of a ball, a ton of glitter, and the consumption of way too much alcohol by the general public things will suddenly be all better? that all the shit that happened over the last calendar year will be put away and never thought of again?

no. i do not. i don't particularly understand the big celebration- it's just turning another calendar page. it's another way of marking time passing- and we all know time is passing too quickly anyway. no need to celebrate it and egg it on and make it think we're happy it's getting away from us so quickly.

do i have any big resolutions for the new year? no. my resolutions started a few years ago when loved ones started checking out early. my resolution to enjoy time with the people i love more. to let them know how much i love them. to spend more time making myself happy and less time doing what i'm "supposed" to be doing just because i think i'm "supposed" to be doing it. to let go of things that are unhealthy, no matter how hard it may be. to embrace things that promote me being the best self i can be an in that being the best mom and friend i can be.

was 2010 a particularly bad year? yeah, it was. any worse than 2009? not really. any worse than 2003? not really. any worse than most years in my history? well, yeah, it was. but it was also a good year. life changed. devastating things happened. but i wasn't the only one they happened to though. and though all the shit some really happy things came to pass. i was able to find really healthy people to surround myself with. i was able to take trips and go places for the first time ever. i was able to take my first family vacation with my kids. i will be able to take a full year off to see what i want to be when i grow up and learn how to be a better mom and friend and person. i've learned empathy and compassion and understanding and that life does continue on even when the worst possible thing that you could ever imagine has happened. i've learned the difference between grieving death and celebrating life. i've learned that even in the middle of terrible darkness there can be laughter and love and support and friendship. i've learned that life will reflect what you want to make it reflect. if you focus on the bad, then everything will be bad, everywhere you look there will be problems around every corner will be illness, drama, hurt, more bad. if you focus on the good you will find happiness, friendship, support, love, health, good memories. yes, the bad still happen, but you can look past and through them to find what you can take from it and use to help yourself grow.

i'm starting to sound like one of those people that i hate...i'm not sure when exactly i became a pollyanna fucking sunshine, but there it all is in text. so. i guess i am.

i just know that if anyone get to complain about what a shitty year it is, i hold that trump card, but i'm not going to play it. i would rather instead focus on the great last birthdays i had with my dad, the great first holidays i had with my kids, the great first trips i got to take with (or to visit) friends. i would rather look back and know that we made the best of the worst than just stop and look at the worst.

i'm still crying while i type this. it's still really fucking hard. it still sucks to look back and admit all that's happened over the last two years. it's too much to sit still and think about. it still takes my breath away and stops me in my tracks at the strangest moments. but that's ok. those will happen for many years. there will be many good years to come. i'm sure there will be many more bad years to come too. it's all about balance.

anytwaddle- happy calendar change day. happy start writing the wrong date on checks for a month. happy night to get smashingly drunk and kiss a stranger at midnight. or happy get smashingly drunk and kissing the one you're with. happy make a bunch of new resolutions that you wont keep. one way or another: HAPPY. happiness to all of you. may you learn to see the good and celebrate it. may you be surrounded by people that you love from here forward. may you truly have a HAPPY new year.

happiness, rainbows, unicorns and all that other schmoopy shit- from our family to yours.

the thanksgiving trip (finally)

2010-12-29T11:25:00.000-08:00

wow. so. i haven’t posted in FOREVER. there’s a million and one excuses- none of them hold water (or snow in this weather). i could say i’ve been busy finishing up things at work, and i have, but i’ve also been only working half days for the last two weeks due to the holiday (and my chomping at the bit to be out of here). i could say things have been crazy at home, but we all know i’m an insane insomniac and there’s plenty of quiet down time to write if i would just do it. i could say there hasn’t been anything to write about, but there’s a LIST of blog topics, two trips, and my first two major holidays without family to prove otherwise. so. basically it just boils down to me slacking and keeping the voices in my head instead of getting them out and getting a start on what i’m supposed to be spending the whole next year doing.

*sigh*

long story short: there may be a blog flood by the end of the day.

we may as well back track to thanksgiving:

FIRST FAMILY TRIP!

that’s right. and yes, it’s sad. it was our first family trip. my spawns are 12 and 7 and this was our first family trip. welcome to poor ass broke, population: us. BUT this year is different and we headed over to silver mountain in kellogg, idaho for a long weekend at their ski hill/indoor water park. the trip over was really short…don’t know why i haven’t realized before how close it is. it was my first time back to kellogg in probably close to 11 years. went over to visit a few times when the oldest spawn was tiny and my brother was a cop over there- so, yeah. a while. the resort was BEAUTIFUL. we had a cute little room with a huge kitchen, dual head shower, soaking tub, fire place, balcony- hell, it even had a washer/dryer in the room which came in handy with all the swim suits and things. that’s right, we went there for thanksgiving, to a ski hill, in the snow, and spent 90% of our time in the water. nothing says thanksgiving like sitting in a hot tub drinking vodka/seven. this may be a new tradition! the first day was a bit rough. my kids and i have been so scattered with work and school and rushing home to hurry and get some dinner so they could hurry off to bed for the next day…we haven’t really had any time together. so this was a big change for us. and it was a GOOD change. a good chance to reconnect and be a family. once we worked through a few hiccups and got used to being around each other things were good. we did make it up the ski hill one day- took the gondola 45 minutes up to the top of the ski hill realize we’re not really snow people. i shouldn’t say that. we don’t mind snow. we don’t mind cold. but when you have snow AND cold AND wind it gets to be a little much. especially when it’s the type of wind that you have to lean into to stand up straight…i’m more of a fireplace and book kind of girl when the weather is like that. but the oldest one got to snowboarding and sledding (inner tubes). the little one didn’t want to try anything, so we quickly called it a good experience and headed back down the hill back to the hot tubs and water slides. in all we ended up having an excellent time and really enjoyed being with each other. there’s not much more you could ask for! there were a few rough patches- the thanksgiving dinner was TERRIBLE but it was balanced out by awesome food at the snack bar at the water park- there’s something about cheap ass pizza and nachos that was HAPPY IN THE PANTS for the whole weekend. the first day at the water park was rough also- the little spawn has a really hard time doing things that are new and different. you basically have to FORCE him to try things. once you do it’s all well and good, but the initial experience is always draining. the first day he REFUSED to get into the water at all: no wading, no slides, no fountains- it was looking to be a LONG weekend. but after a few tears (on both sides) and finally getting him into the water, there was no getting him out on the last day when it was time to go. something we will have to keep working through each time we face something new. hopefully he’ll learn to fight a little less and trust a little more and it will balance out.

overall it was as good as a trip could have been. the roads were good on the way there and back, we had movies and snuggle time every night, fun in the water park all day, and really just an excellent first family vacation. YES, there are pictures. i’ll add a few to this when i get a chance- i *JUST* downloaded them on my laptop a few days ago and haven’t had a chance to go through them at all yet.

now to the icky part of it: it was hard for me. two year ago i had my first ever thanksgiving with my dad and my little brother. last year we had thanksgiving with my dad but my little brother was gone. this year they are both gone. it was really hard. i tried not to think about it the whole weekend, but considering that the whole reason we were able to take the trip…yeah. double edged sword. it was GREAT to be able to go and have a good time and start our own new little family tradition. but is SUCKED that we had to start our own new little family tradition. i made it through the whole trip without too many tears (save the battles with the small spawn) but driving home we drove past the valley mall in spokane. not a big deal. we’ve been out to the mall a few times over the past few months, i’ve driven to idaho and back and down that stretch of road a few times. but for some reason, this time driving back i was reminded of a few years ago when my dad and his wife stayed at a hotel out by the mall for the oldest spawns birthday. i remember sitting in their hotel room with them while the spawn opened his gifts and the kids getting to stay the night there and go swimming with grandpa. maybe it was because we were just coming back from a hotel, maybe it was because it was a family gathering, maybe it was just that i really saw what i was driving past for the first time in a while but holy fuck did it hit like a ton of bricks. out of nowhere i was suddenly bawling and flooded with memories and thinking about the whole weekend we had just finished and all of it all at once. it’s the strange moments like that that hit the hardest. they’re the ones you can’t see coming and can’t prepare for. you can prepare for the big holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, the BIG things. but the little things, the random reminders, the out of the blue memories that hit- those are SO FUCKING HARD. they just hit you and level you and leave you flat on your ass wondering what the fuck just happened. there i was, driving down the interstate, coming off an excellent weekend, and suddenly i’m just BAWLING. not the best when you’re going 70 down the road with 2 kids in the back seat that have no idea what’s going on.

i’m finding more of those lately too. those odd moments that just HIT. i was getting better for a while- feeling more on an even keel, healing, dealing well, but the last week or so has just been wicked. not even so much the christmas thing although that didn’t help (but i’ll get to that in another post). just the small thing- remembering how he always asked about my snow tires, how he always reminded me that i can’t feed the world, remembering how he did whatever he could whenever he could to help someone else out. just remembering him. trying to think of and remember as much as i can. every memory that i want to hold on to. i want to take time to write out all my memories of him and share them with everyone- partially so i don’t forget, and partially so you all can know him too.

so. you know. it was a hard but good weekend. it was a new tradition. it was our chance to be a family. it was also a reminder that the old things can’t happen anymore. and it was a time to feel the loss of the family that is gone. everything in balance, right?

mama bear is NOT hibernating yet

2010-11-30T10:14:00.000-08:00

so. growl. i do not respond well to being poked with a stick. parent teacher problems persist. here's the latest. please, PLEASE let me know if i'm over reacting. although a suppose at this point, the last email has already been sent...but if i need to back down, please, PLEASE let me know. my mama bear tends to growl first (although a thought out and thoroughly contemplated growl) and ask if i'm over reacting second...

email one: my initial email yesterday morning:

Good morning-

It appears that conference time for this semester has come and gone and my opportunity to discuss [spawn's] progress has been overlooked.

This year and last year both I requested phone conferences due to my work schedule. Both years no phone conference happened.

The lack of response is particularly frustrating this year given the classroom meeting in October and my sincere desire to stay on top of things and help make this year a good year for [spawn]. Additionally, it is frustrating that even after making sure the correct contact information was provided I have not received any feedback from the classroom at all since our meeting.

I have had feedback from [principal] and [spawn]. From [spawn's] side, he reported that things improved for a bit after the meeting but then began to backslide again and his efforts have been met with little assistance or patience and even some resistance again. I do understand that this is his side of the story only, but I am more than apt to believe it is an increasingly accurate depiction of events as I, as the parent, am receiving the same results.

I would like to request an honest answer as to why so little effort is being made to meet us half way in these efforts. I do understand busy schedules and a classroom full of families to work with. I do not understand why nothing at all is being done. I would even go so far as to say that while I do feel the original meeting was helpful in having my concerns heard, I also feel that the majority of the meeting was spent defending or making excuses at the classroom level and that the only real help came when [principal] joined and was able to provide a buffer of sorts to help move things along. I do not understand where the friction originated and I do not understand why it is so difficult to resolve.

As it seems phone conferences are not an available option, I would request a classroom meeting again, with [principal] if possible, to discuss [spawn's] progress since the last meeting. I would also like to note that as of January 1, 2011 I will no longer be working and would like to request a list of the best times to volunteer in the classroom in a more hands on approach to helping make this school year better and more successful.

Thank you for your time-

[mama bear]

email two: her response yesterday afternoon:

[mama bear],

I sent several notices home and E-mails were sent requesting a response on times that worked for you. I have not received anything from you. I am still doing conferences this week and would love to meet with you. You are the only one who has not responded on a time. When I schedule a phone conference, parents will let me know what time works best for them. I think it is important for [spawn] to know that you are also looking at his portfolio of work while we are conferencing. I know employers are usually very supportive of allowing their employees to conference with the teachers twice a year.
Let me know a time you can meet in the morning or right after school.

[teacher]

email three: my response this morning:

[teacher]-

To date this is the first email I have received of any nature since our October meeting. Additionally, one notice was sent home for conferences. It was signed and returned the same week.

I strongly resent the implication that I am a liar. I also strongly resent the continued blame and lack of personal responsibility on your part. As stated at the conference in October, there are multiple way to reach me via cell phone, work phone, and mail to the home in addition to email. If it was as apparent as it seems that I was the only one to not respond, I would have to ask why a phone call was not made or further effort, especially given the previous attention and efforts on my part.

I also strongly resent that my emails to you are discussed with my son in the classroom. He has no prior knowledge to my communications with you and for him to be dressed down and grilled in the classroom is beyond inappropriate. Such matters as discussed herein are parent-teacher matters only.

I feel, at this time, that no further progress can be made between you and I. It seems we are at an impasse. I would request that a dedicated third party be appointed for routing and mitigating all future communications.

I will be filing a formal complaint with the school board over these matters and the treatment both my son and I have been subjected to over the past year and a half.

I again request a list of times available to volunteer in the classroom as I feel even more strongly now that my presence in the classroom is vital to making sure my son has a successful second half of the school year.

[mama bear]

so. what say you bloggosphere?

typical wednesday night

2010-11-18T09:41:00.000-08:00

you guys: i feel a SMALL twinge of guilt this morning. i think i broke someone’s heart a little last night. and not even someone i know- just some random guy in the concert house. i almost feel bad.

see. i went to a concert last night. alone. let’s not get started on how pathetic that was. at least i finally sucked it up and went.

so. i’m standing there, chatting with a few fellow concert goers and an adorable little redneck boy says to me:

“see that girl? mark my words, i’m going to marry her one day!”

me: “awwww…if i believed in marriage, that would be adorable!”

at which point his heart literally broke right in front of me. the look on his face- it was like he had just watched me kick a puppy at a newborn baby and then dunked them both in a vat of acid while punching a unicorn. he was SO UPSET.

even worse?

his girlfriend (or the girl he was referencing anyway) looks at me and goes: I KNOW, RIGHT? i like this girl, she says exactly what’s in my head!

ummm…ouch. let me know when that marriage is- i’ll make sure to keep the 4th of never open…

we continued to chat a little during which time i managed to completely freak out the adorable little redneck boy- to the point where he was saying: “yes ma’am” to everything i said. apparently he’s never met a female with an opinion or at least one willing to speak it before. i think it may have hurt his brain a little. for example, he was asking about why i didn’t believe in marriage to which i responded i wasn’t big on the idea of only sleeping with one person for the rest of my life. you’d swear he thought _I_ shot bambi’s mother after that.

here’s a few other enjoyable conversations i had last night:

in the girls bathroom- girl in stall is trying to “comfort” friend manning the door for her:

door girl: but i was flirting with him and he was flirting back, right?

stall girl: yeah, but flirting only gets you so far.

door girl: but he was totally into it, wasn’t he?

stall girl: no, he was pretending to be into it because you bought him a drink.

me: flirting and fucking are two completely different things. until you have a cock in you, none of it counts.

door girl: HEY

stall girl: oooo…say that again, she needs to hear that!

me: (repeat the previous statement) you can flirt all you want, until you either have a cock in your mouth or in you, it doesn’t really mean anything at all.

door girl: really? but he seemed so into it.

me: darling, you bought him alcohol, of course he was into it. for that moment at least.

stall girl: i like you. you say what i’m thinking but can’t say.

side note: GIRLS: if you can’t speak your mind to your friends (big assumption on my part…but one WAS holding the door for the other) then are you REALLY friends? grow a pair and speak your own damn minds already. i mean, i’m glad to be able to do it for you, but PLEASE, PLEASE learn to do it for yourselves.

so, there was a semi-cute guy in what appeared to be a snap front shirt (one of my favorite things on earth). i, of course, had to check it out.

me: sorry, not trying to grope you, just wanted to see if this is a snap front shirt.

*checking*

me: awww…they’re buttons. do you know how long those take to get off?

him: ummm…yeah, they kinda take a while.

me: and then by the time you get to the last one you’re bored and not really in the mood anymore and ready to move on to other things. you really should invest in snap front shirts.

him: what about his? (gesturing to his buddy standing across from him)

*checking*

me: nope. his are buttons too. and they’re even smaller buttons. those are REALLY hard to function in a hurry.

him: huh. good to know.

asshole buddy in a polo with his stick up the ass girlfriend: ummm, he’s single but NOT looking.

me: really? well, thanks for that tip. i wasn’t asking, just checking his shirt, but, you know, good to know.

asshole buddy: oh.

semi-cute guy: what do you mean by snap front shirts?

*demonstration of my own snap front shirt*

him: oh. that is handy.

me: by the way, nice pecs. those would be a good hand grip.

him: really?

me: yeah, the’re a little soft, but good edge to them. they’d work.

asshole buddy in a polo with his stick up the ask girlfriend: what? what about mine?

*checking with girlfriend before coping a feel*

me: umm…there’s nothing there. no pecs at all. couldn’t even pretend to get a grip.

semi-cute guy: *trying not to laugh*

stick up the ass girlfriend: *nodding along sadly*

polo asshole: *offended* what? you don’t need a hand grip anyway.

me: well, if that works for you, but these *coping a feel of the semi-cute guy again* are pretty good. these would work really well.

and then i walked away. thought it was funny how the asshole in the polo (really- who the fuck wears a damn polo to a country concert? bastard) was all trying to intervene for his buddy…then changed his tune a bit when i snapped back at him and then kept talking to his buddy. even funnier: semi-cute guy found me at the end of the concert, walked over and introduced himself and said it was fun talking to me. so. yeah, he was obviously really offended by my talking to him and needed intervened for. stupid asshole polo guy.

so. mildly interesting evening. GREAT music. way too many people that offended my eyes. the idiots at the venue decided to turn on the lights between the opening band and the main show- it was WAY too early in the evening/not enough alcohol in for THAT to happen in that crowd. seriously people: why must you offend my eyes so? there were more than a few coyote ugly people there- one girl was so offensive that i may or may not have said the following: “fuck, even if i woke up on the other side of the room from that, i would still chew my damn arm of just out of disappointment in myself for being anywhere near that!” to which several people agreed.

one girl there a group of us were placing bets on: she either had no nipples at all, or had piercings that were laced through her bra because that was the only way in hell something wasn’t flashing/falling out. seriously- those suckers were as far out as i’ve ever seen but still, oddly, against gravity, slightly contained. plus they were all covered in veins and WAY too vomitous. didn’t seems to bother the douchecaptain she was with though. they made quite the pair.

still trying to figure out how i didn’t gouge my eyes out before the evening ended. OH…and, in completely odd bar experiences: had three people smell my hair. one guy was approximately 900 feet tall and had to keep bending town to talk to me (and i’m not exactly short). during one of his excursions down from the north pole he stopped talking and just stood there for a minute. i’m all: umm…whatcha doin up there? he just kinda looked puzzled…and said: “your hair…” i laughed and said “skittles?” the hairspray i use totes smells like skittles. i may or may not have developed a bit of a huffing problem since switching to this brand. he kept smelling it while bending over to talk to me. i cracked up. then his buddies wondered what the hell he was doing so then they had to take a sniff too. i think one of them even bit me…wanted to taste the rainbow he said. so. you know. interesting experiences.

over all, not a bad wednesday.

that's you little girl-

2010-11-09T23:50:00.000-08:00

last week i was going to write a blog. not a very nice blog. i was going to write a pretty damn mean blog. to myself. about everything. my body. my life. depression. i was trying like hell not to be hard on myself, but my brain had other ideas. every time i looked in a mirror i would hear these evil little voices in my head. every time i looked at pictures from vegas i couldn't help but compare. i would tell myself: you know, they SAY you got looks in vegas, but it was only people wondering what the hell the three hot chicks were doing with the beached whale. or: sure they guys at clubs said four hot women- but it's only because they're smart enough to know that if they want to hit on ONE they have to compliment all FOUR. guys are at least smart enough to know that. i kept remembering that i used to say in high school: if my belly ever stick out further than my boobs, just shoot me. well, guess what captain ahab: pull out the harpoon...it's getting close.

BUT.

then i looked in the mirror this week and saw something different. and i heard a different voice.

this week when i've looked in the mirror i've seen a beautiful woman. a lady who has been working hard to take care of herself and take pride in herself. a woman who had leaned to dress for her body, apply her makeup tastefully, style her hair with pride but not vanity. i've seen a beautiful creature looking back at me and i heard a voice in my head: that's you little girl, and you're beautiful. and i can't explain it. it's not something i ever remember hearing my dad say to me, but i'm damn sure it's him saying it to me now: THAT'S YOU LITTLE GIRL, AND YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL.

i've changed over the last few weeks- well, except last week that is. i've morphed in a way. i've started to see someone else in the mirror. i mentioned it a few times to my gals in vegas- i see this beautiful creature looking back at me and it's shocking to realize THAT'S ME. i can't explain it. nothing big has changed- i darkened my hair a bit again which is not new. it's the same make up. it's the same hair style. but when i look i see a whole new person. and it's taking me a while to get used to her. she's confident. she's well put together in age appropriate and body appropriate clothes. she's beautiful. and it's me.

i'm sure i sound like i'm a bit off my rocker right now. and i can't really explain it any better. but something has changed AND I LIKE IT.

i'm sure i'll still have off days. i'm sure this won't last forever. but for now- this is a really fucking good feeling. it's kinda nice to REALLY like me.

it's on- universe willing

2010-11-08T15:38:00.000-08:00

so. there’s still a few details to work out (health insurance first and foremost), but the decision has been made: i’m taking a year off work.

so.

big changes. i talked to my boss about taking a leave of absence (not possible) or switching to part time (not practical for the department) so, that just leaves taking the leap. i’m scared as fuck, but i’m also 100% confident that this is the right thing for me to do right now. it’s my turn to figure out what i want to be when i grow up.

i’ve been running through this in my head since last week and i spent quite a bit of time thinking about it this weekend. even with all the risk involved- bad economy, bad job market, going crazy with boredom, medical insurance, EVERYTHING, even with all that, i know this is the right thing. the positives and the opportunities WAY outweigh all the other things.

one thing that it did make me question though is this: do you think people can change their opinion after they die? and i know that sounds strange: no. they’re dead. they no longer have an opinion. BUT, follow me here: if they could come back for a day and talk to you- do you think it would be the same now as then? what the fuck am i talking about? this: i hear two voices in my head: i hear my dad BEFORE the fire, and my dad AFTER the fire. i hear the before saying: why would you even consider leaving a stable job where you have 10 years seniority, insurance, retirement, comfort? you have kids! you have responsibility! invest now for your retirement and make plans then!

then i hear my dad AFTER the fire: i worked my whole life planning for retirement and a fuck load of good that did me. (ok, i never EVER heard my dad drop the f-bomb, but you get the idea). enjoy life NOW. make the change while you can. do what you need to do for you and the boys. be happy. i always wanted to provide for you and make you happy, this is my backwards way of doing that. go explore, take a chance, go back to school (he always wanted me to go back), try something new.

does any of that make sense? i don’t know if it’s possible, or if it’s me trying to make sense of things in my head and trying to give myself permission, but really do think his perspective on it NOW would be very different than before. and granted, i would have never thought of this before. i would have never had the financial cushion to be able to do this. i would have never had the reason to do something like this. but now, fuck, EVERYTHING is different. so why wouldn’t his opinion be as well?

i just keep coming back to one basic thought: tomorrow is never a for sure. procrastination is arrogance. procrastinating is laughing in the face of the universe saying you know better and you know that there WILL be a tomorrow to do things. i’ve learned that NOTHING is a for sure. tomorrow is not promised to us. assuming so is truly the best was to make an ASS of U.

and in the face of all the questions and concerns about getting a job when i decide to go back to the real world- this is going to sound unbelievably corny, especially coming from me, but if and when it’s meant to happen, IT WILL. when the right thing comes along, i will be ready for it and things will work out the way they’re supposed to. i HAVE to believe that. fuck- i have that tattooed on my skin. what’s the point of having the tattoo if i don’t really believe it? it made me laugh at myself thinking about it. do i really believe in my own tattoo? or did i just get it for looks? it’s easy to SAY i believe it, am i willing to put my future where my ideals are? here’s to finding out!

so. the trigger hasn’t officially been pulled yet. but it’s going to happen. i’ll give enough notice to find someone and do some training. AND i promised to do the taxes for the year- i won’t dump that off on a new person the way it was dumped on me. but it’s happening. the new year will start off a WHOLE NEW YEAR for me, karma willing. i know…speaking of arrogance…looking forward 7 weeks already after i just said that tomorrow is never for sure. but in fairness, i can’t just jump ship. so. here’s my request to the universe: please don’t change things too much in the next seven weeks. please allow me this opportunity because i would love to take it and make the most of it.

and then??

2010-11-02T11:27:00.001-07:00

well, first the good news: made it to vegas and back! no marriages, no bail money, no close encounters of the strange kind. just a whole ton of good, not so clean fun! i would discuss more details, but there may or may not have been a blood sisters wolf pack pact somewhere along the lines…

suffice to say, TONS of pictures were taken, and no, you can’t see any of them. THAT’S how it went.

i will say one thing: hardest part about coming home? leaving the heated toilet seat behind. seriously people. a HEATED toilet seat. talk about peeing in comfort.

so, that was the hardest part about coming home. hardest part about arriving home? having to go from vegas to mom in 3.2 seconds. walked in my house and the kitchen was a MESS, living room was a tornado, and the kids bedroom floor no longer exists. even my bed was a mess, sheets all over the place. *sigh* straight from maid service back to being the maid. i suppose that’s a normal part of vacations, but since this was my first (yes, ever) i guess i was expecting a little bit of the magic to carry over at least a little bit.

now on to the big news:

i’m thinking about quitting my job. or going to part time. or taking a leave of absence if possible. just something different. don’t get me wrong- i have a good job. i like the people, the work is easy, there’s nothing BAD about it at all. i just feel like it’s time for a change, and for the first time i’m in a position where i can make that change and have a safety cushion behind me. i’ve been here for 10 years already and just feel stuck. pushing the same papers i was 10 years ago…and nothing different in the near future. it feels like i’m not using any of my skills, let alone using them to the best of my abilities. i need something that challenges me and makes me think and pushes me a bit. and you know…i’m only 30. that means i have 35 years until i qualify for retirement. so that’s PLENTY of time to start a different career.

the more i think about it, the more comfortable i am with this decision. it would mean time to try my hand at writing, time to be in the kids classrooms, time to work out, time to be a real mom and cook dinners and keep the house clean, time to do more glass work, just TIME in general. no more feeling like i get up just in time for work, sit at a desk all day, slap together dinner, shove the kids in bed just to do it all over again the next day. it would be nice to have real time with my kids instead of just 2-3 hours a night before bedtime. it would be nice to learn how to really cook meals instead of piecing together whatever i can find at the last minute. it would be nice to have time to go to a gym. just all of it. it would be nice to have a change. and i can do it right now. not forever, but for a year at least. see what it’s like. see how it goes. if anything, i’ve learned that a year is a fuck long time. so much can change and happen.

i’m not 100% sure on this one, but i’m pegging in at about 90% right now. it would be a HUGE change, but i’m ready for that. and why not do it? you know? why sit around thinking about it and wondering “what if?” why not just jump and see what happens?

so. yeah. that’s where i’m at right now. what do ya’ll think?

sexy vs. NOT sexy

2010-10-22T10:12:00.000-07:00

you guys. there’s something that’s been bothering me for a while. and i need to say something:

it seems that fewer and fewer men know what’s sexy these days. this is a disturbing trend. and one i need to do my part to correct ASAP. especially before VEGAS. because i’m sure out there somewhere is a man who has never heard of me, and will never read this blog, that i will meet up with in a club there, and he will need to know this information. somehow. so. maybe just putting it out in the universe will solve that. it will magically find his way to him, and he will already know what’s sexy and what is not sexy.

so. here it is. in stark detail. things that are sexy and things that are NOT sexy. and. *sigh* as per usual. these things were all learned by experience. the things i’ve suffered. tragic really.

SEXY: kissing. with the full tongue action. and MAYBE a little lick of the lip or two.

NOT SEXY: holding my head and doing an extensive cavity search of my mouth with your tongue. there is NO reason for you to lick my gums. all the way around my mouth. especially while holding my head still so i can’t get away. i just threw up a little.

SEXY: kissing the tip of my nose. or eskimo kisses. or resting our foreheads together with our noses touching.

NOT SEXY: licking the inside of my nose. ‘nuff said. and i just threw up a little again.

with all this throwing up i’ll fit into my vegas dresses no problem.

SEXY: a “bedtime” snack like popcicles. or ice cream. or strawberries.

NOT SEXY: bbq corn nuts.

SEXY: Ralph Lauren Polo Black. panties: dropped. IN SMALL DOSES. as in A, SINGULAR, ONE spritz or two.

NOT SEXY: mixing your cologne with your body wash. and your shampoo. and using it as a deodorant. and a few extra sprays for good measure. if i can smell you before i see you it is NOT a good thing.

SEXY: dirty dancing.

NOT SEXY: making it look like we’re having sex on the dance floor. EVERYONE should be able to see both your hands. AT ALL TIMES.

SEXY: drunken sex.

NOT SEXY: drunken anal.

and on that TMI, i think that’s enough for now.

by the way…have i mentioned I’M GOING TO VEGAS?!?!?

open letter to single mothers:

2010-10-11T14:55:00.000-07:00

**DISCLAIMER** yes, i am being extremely judgmental in this. no, i do not know any of the details of any of the recent cases where children left in the care of the boyfriends were hurt/killed. BUT, i have seen this story over and over and the general details are almost always the same. this is not directed at any person in specific. the following is simply my feelings on the topic in general. hell, these are my feeling on many women (not only mothers) in general. am i on a high horse? yes. am i on a soap box? yes. do i feel i have the right to be there given what i've been through and the choices i've made? yes. so. with that:

open letter to single mothers:

i cannot comprehend the loss or injury of a child. it really is beyond anything i could ever imagine. the pain and heartbreak would truly be unbearable.

BUT.

what the fuck did you THINK would happen leaving your innocent, defenseless, completely vulnerable child alone with a man you could not have known for very long?

why the hell are you all so fucking needy? YES, it is hard being a single parent. is it any easier losing your child? why the fuck can’t you learn to be independent and not bounce from boyfriend to boyfriend letting ANYONE in your house and in the presence of your children just so you don’t have to feel lonely? why the hell are these men even home to take care of the children? why aren’t they out working to help support you instead of the other way around? WHY THE HELL ARE THEY EVEN AROUND? grow a pair, learn to change your own fucking light bulbs and open your own damn pickle jars and kick these worthless fucking assholes to the curb!

what authority do i have to speak?

i’ve been a single mom for TWELVE years. i know how hard it is. i worked my ass off to complete high school. graduate from college. get a job. keep a job. take care of my babies above everything else. i know what it’s like to get zero sleep. i know what it’s like to be in the emergency room at 3 am with a sick child knowing you have to go to work (or class) in the morning. i know what it’s like to be down to pennies and still have a week before another paycheck. i know what it’s like to be alone every. single. night. i know what it’s like to feel like you have no one to help you when you’re completely run out and exhausted and ready to give up.

BUT.

that doesn’t mean you sacrifice your child. that doesn’t mean you reach out and grab the first piece of trash floating by just to make yourself feel better for a moment.

your children can not speak for themselves. they cannot defend themselves. they cannot tell you when bad things happen. THAT IS YOUR JOB.

the INSTANT you became pregnant YOU stopped being the most important thing. that little tiny life entrusted to you became the most important thing. being a parent means sacrifice. it means not always getting what you want in order to make sure that little person has what they need. and they NEED safety and security and someone watching out for them. it means you party less, stop snorting everything you can get your drug addicted hands on, stop dragging home every sorry excuse for a boyfriend you dredge up at the local bar. TAKE CARE OF YOUR OWN. you protect that little person with everything you have. do every damn thing in your power to make sure they’re taken care of and safe every moment possible. STOP thinking about you. START thinking about that little baby.

there are ways. there are people to help you learn how to take care of yourself. there are people to help you learn to take care of your babies. you can do this safely, on your own. it’s damn hard, but it can be done.

the sad thing is even a loss like this won’t get your attention. in another week or two you’ll be out attaching yourself to another sperm donor. you’ll be getting knocked up with another baby that you’ll leave alone with another guy.

am i saying you have to be alone forever? no. i would never wish that on someone. people need a partner, they need a helper. especially as a parent. BUT. you do not need to grab on to the first available thing just to avoid being alone. you do NOT need to ALWAYS be with someone. you do not need to be out looking for a replacement 5 minutes after the last one is gone (or 2 days before he’s going to be gone for that matter). take some time to learn who you are ALONE. learn to be independent. learn how to take care of yourself. learn how to support yourself. learn how to do all that, THEN find someone that can add to that, not BE all that. trust: you’ll be doing yourself AND your babies a favor.

please, pull your collective heads out of your asses and stop becoming the latest breaking news headline. please stop thinking about yourselves and start thinking about the little people completely dependent on you. please stop being trashy classless whores and start being mothers.

why i hate comcast:

2010-09-30T15:49:00.000-07:00

so. i tried to log into my comcast account today (phone/tv/internet for those lucky few who don't know the company) to check my bill and was greeted with a: "please contact the primary user of this account to set up a pin/secret question" error message. umm...i AM the primary user. so i CALLED customer service. they reset the password and "fixed" the problem. signed in again, same error message. so i tried one of their nifty "chat" sessions...here's how that went:

(if you don't want to read the whole thing, here's a quick summary: FUCK YOU COMCAST. YOU FUCKING SUCK.)

LiveAssist Transcript

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chat id : 52c1bb4a-9e51-4b08-a7c5-99ca7d46b7e0

Problem : Need to set a pin and secret question to be able to view my account

sherry > Need to set a pin and secret question to be able to view my account

Armi > Hello sherry_, Thank you for contacting Comcast Live Chat Support. My name is Armi. Please give me one moment to review your information.

Armi > How are you today Sherry?

sherry_ > i cannot view my bill

sherry_ > it is requiring a pin and secret question but will not allow me to set those

Armi > I understand you are not able to view your bill because it is asking for a pin.

sherry_ > yes

Armi > I thank you for taking time to contact us regarding this issue. There is a way that this can be resolved for you however your chat has been routed to my department that supports only Cable service.

Armi > What I will do now is to transfer this chat to our Internet service representatives as they can address this more efficiently. Is that okay with you Sherry?

sherry_ > ok

Armi > It has been my pleasure serving you today Sherry and I truly appreciate your understanding and cooperation at this point. Before I transfer your chat, do you have other concerns for me today? I will be glad to assist you further.

sherry_ > no. i just want into my account.

Armi > Thank you Sherry. Please stay online, transferring you now.

Armi > Have a great day!

Armi > Please wait, while the problem is escalated to another analyst

Rommel > It is a pleasure to have you on chat! Your issue resolution is my top priority for today.

Rommel > I see that you have a problem on loggin in. Is that correct?

sherry_ > i logged in, but it will not let me view my bill until a pin and a secret question are set

Rommel > I apologize for the inconvenience. Rest assured I will do my best to address your concern today. I know how important it is to check your online account !

Rommel > I will be very happy to assist you in this matter Sherry, you have reached the right person !

Rommel > May I please have the full name and address of the account holder.

sherry_ > sherry at XXXXXXXXX (love you all, not posting my address)

Rommel > Thank you very much !

Rommel > Can I get the username you were logging in?

sherry_ > pissed.off.customer@comcast.net (oh, don't i wish that were actually it!)

Rommel > Thank you !

Rommel > Just to check, it was asking for a 4 digit pin, is that correct?

sherry_ > In accordance with FCC regulations, Comcast requires you to enter your Security PIN and create a Security Question and Answer before you proceed. This will only take a few moments. Thank you.

Rommel > Sherry, would it be okay to resert the password so we can update the pin information in your account?

sherry_ > ok

Rommel >

For verification, can I get the the last four digit of the SSN .

sherry_ > XXXX

Rommel > Thank you for the additional information you provided me.

Rommel > Please give me 1-2 minutes to process this. Thank you.

Rommel > While waiting, please allow me to take this opportunity to share with you one of the main features that you can get with Comcast which is our online site where you can watch full TV shows and movies online. Go to www.fancast.com and experience the best of TV online! With Fancast, the privilege of watching your favorite TV show episodes, movies, trailers and clips at no cost whatsoever is yours. So, go ahead and discover a whole bunch of entertainment just for you!

Rommel > Would it be okay to call you @ (509) 867-5309 to verify some information you shared with us earlier so we can proceed the the password reset and get the security pin ?

sherry_ > no. i'm not at home. i'm at work. why is this so difficult to do? isn't there a link i can click or a page i can go to?

sherry_ > and i was JUST ON a customer service phone call...that didn't work so i tried this. i REALLY do not want to go in another circle.

sherry_ > i just need my bill available.

Rommel > Sherry, the pin was part of your phone service that FCC mandated should be kept and verified when accessing phone service.

Rommel > In the account, the pin has not yet been updated.

sherry_ > why didn't they do that when i signed up for the phone service?

Rommel > To do thid we need to call you to verify information you shared earlier.

sherry_ > WHY DIDN'T THEY DO THAT WHEN I JUST CALLED IN?

Rommel > I apologize but the pin will be given once the phone will be successfully installed.

sherry_ > the phone has been successfully installed for a few weeks now

Rommel > I do apologize but the pin was not activated, since we also need you to call so we can give you the pin number when you call us.

Rommel > But before we do that, we have to call you on your comcast phone for verification.

sherry_ > are you kidding me?

sherry_ > this is fubar. the phone was installed weeks ago. i was JUST ON the phone with a customer service rep.

sherry_ > there is NO reason this should be so difficult

Rommel > Sherry, this is not difficult as long as we can verify you. Another option I can offer is send you the pin by mail since you have verified information on this chat.

Rommel > Then you can use that security pin to log in.

sherry_ > mail will take days. by the time i get home and call in the wait time is forever. I VERIFIED MY INFORMATION ALREADY today. TWICE. this is not acceptable customer service.

Rommel > Sherry, as much I wanted to help you set up the password and pin, there is a procedure that we need to follow.

sherry_ > one that has obviously been screwed up a few times already.

Rommel > Sherry, is there somebody in your home to answer the phone right now ?

sherry_ > no.

sherry_ > i am at work. as i already stated.

Rommel > What I can suggest is give us a chat or call later to verify, then we have the pin updated. We are open 24/7 .

Rommel > Will this be okay with you ?

sherry_ > no that is not okay with me. i don't want to waste MORE of my time chasing my tail in circles on something that should be simple. there is no reason for me to waste my evening on something like this when i have already verified my information TWICE today, and when the initial mistake was on YOUR part not doing this when the phone was installed.

sherry_ > i am the ONLY person listed on the account. and i have have already verified my information twice. i need access to my account immediatly.

Rommel > I do apologize but we would need to verify you on your comcast phone to get the security pin. This is an FCC mandate which comcast strictly adheres to. Not doing this , will have consequences for the provider.

sherry_ > strictly adheres to? then why wasn't it done WEEKS ago? i really don't give a rats ass about your consequences. i need into my account NOW. your screw up should not be my problem.

Rommel > Sherry, I am really sorry but we are unable to get you the security pin without the call to your home. What I can do is note down this issue and have somebody calls you when you arrive home to verify. Just give us the time to call, and we will be happy to do that.

Rommel > No need for you to chat back.

sherry_ > whatever. fine. call around 7.

Rommel > Thank you very much. Again my apologies.

Rommel > Will there be anything else I can help you with for today? I will be happy to extend my time to help you on this matter.

sherry_ > well, i can't get into my account to see if there's anything i need help with...so...

sherry_ > i needed to see if the previous credits to my account went through to see if the balance owing is correct...but since i can't get into my own damn account, i guess i get to wait til later to do that too.

Rommel > Thank you for choosing Comcast as your provider. Comcast appreciates your business and values you as a customer. Our goal is to provide you with excellent service. If you need further assistance, you can chat with one of our Customer Support Specialists 24 hour a day, 7 days a week at http://www.comcastsupport.com/videochat . Have a good day !

HAVE A GOOD DAY? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? FUCK YOU COMCAST.

what's thursday without a little crazy?

2010-09-30T13:17:00.000-07:00

i . am. annoyed.

no, that’s not quite right. i’m flat out fucking pissed off.

this whole breaking up thing…i thought once you did it you were DONE with it. turns out: not so much.

jaysus fucking chryst on toast. i mean REALLY? do i have to keep arguing and battling even after i pulled the plug?

saturday was the break up talk. sunday he decided he needed to stop by my house (DRUNK) to drop off the portable dvd cord that he had for some unknown reason (i can’t break up with him becky, like, all my cd’s are in his truck…dane cook anyone?).

so. sunday. thought he got the point. DONE. over. out. moving on.

last night i got a text asking how the kids and i were and if he could stop by because he found a receipt and he didn’t know what it was for.

-sigh-

ARE YOU KIDDING ME? a receipt? and you can’t read it? are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?

whatever. i found a few more of his things in my room that needed returned anyway, so might as well get it over with.

so. after 8 (when little spawn goes to bed) he texts me to TELL me he’s on his way over. not to ask, not to see if it’s ok. to TELL me he’s on his way. FUCKING FUCK. THIS IS MY FUCKING HOUSE, MY RULES. YOU FUCKING CHECK FIRST.

so he comes over. and i let him into the kitchen and hand him his stuff. and he’s all…you didn’t hug me. and i’m all…didn’t know i was supposed to.

oh…can we talk for a minute? you know…as friends?

-sigh-

where’s my inner bitch when i need her?

FINE. a few minutes.

and then i hear about all the big changes he’s making in his life and how much has changed and how much he’s improved and pulled things together. he has an offer for more work hours, he’s working out, bought a bike and rides every day, bought a dog…on and on. ummm…it’s been THREE FUCKING DAYS since i last saw him. and he was smashing drunk then. so…you know…when did all these fucking amazing changes happen exactly? and this is supposed to make me come rushing back to him? let’s see…where does that one fall…i think that falls into the FUCK NO category.

and he wants to hear about what i’m doing and what changes i’m making and where i’m going in life. umm…again…THREE FUCKING DAYS. work and kids. and grocery shopping. that’s all that’s happened. so. quit fucking pushing me and expecting all the same shit that i ended things over. i’m not going to fucking magically heal over night. i’m not going to suddenly just be better. there’s no fucking magic switch to flip and have life be right again. and i’m just pissed off and tired of the bullshit and the expectations and crap. then he wants to talk in private in the kitchen (oldest spawn was still up and in the living room).

umm…what big private thing do we need to talk about? insert here the whole drama of how we’re not really broken up. all couples have arguments and just need a little cooling off time.

THIS ISN’T FUCKING COOLING OFF TIME. it’s over. done. STICK A GOD DAMN FORK IN IT. but i just need to keep him around, in a back corner, just a little space, he can stay at his house and we’ll just text. he’ll just stay quiet. he’ll just…

WHAT DON’T YOU FUCKING GET? no. i will not keep you in a back corner or in a little space. this isn’t some fucking waiting game. this isn’t some little bump. THIS IS ME BEING DONE. you know that whole thing when i called it quits about you not listening to me? THIS IS WHAT I MEANT. i’m fucking DONE. i’m tired of arguing, discussing, having to defend my every decision.

and around and around it went. i finally just told him to leave. which turned into a 5 minute process of him saying goodbye and reminding me he’ll still be there and he still loves me and JUST FUCKING LEAVE ALREADY. and he finally gets out the door, i take a deep breath, and *knock knock* oh…by the way, here’s the receipt….it’s for the fucking lamp that YOU BOUGHT. it says right on it. LAMP. from the store he bought it at. are you fucking kidding me? this was the whole point of coming over? GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE. so he leaves. deep breath *knock knock* just wanted to tell me he loves me. GET. THE. FUCK. OUT. at which point i closed and locked the door in his face.

WHAT PART OF _OVER_ IS SO FUCKING HARD TO UNDERSTAND.

then the texts start:

“do u know u gave me a hope to keep going in my life because my life is u? i love you.”

“and i will waiting u until last day in my live.”

“and i bromise u i will naver cheating u until u come back to me. and i will naver looking to any gairil. i love you.”

and still today:

“do u think today its butafull…i think every day it will be like that when u smail. i love you”

(spellings left the way they came in because i’m a cold hearted bitch)

and i know…awwww…he loves me and he’s willing to wait for me and he’s so dedicated. NO. he fucking refuses to listen to what i want/need and thinks he knows better. IT’S FUCKING OVER. i’m done. i’m out. i’m not going back. i can’t keep doing the arguing and the defending every single thing i feel and say. i can’t keep feeling bad for FEELING. i can’t keep sitting under the pressure and expectation to just be better. i can’t keep doing this whole circle. i want to rip my fucking hair out thinking about it. instant migraine thinking of the around and around arguments. sheer stress thinking of the pressure to be better for someone else and feeling bad for falling apart different days and for taking my own sweet damn time to go through this whole process. just even typing about it is lighting me up…just want to punch a raccoon (they already have black eyes, you’ll never be able to tell).

JUST FUCKING LISTEN TO ME:

OVER. no more. done. don’t stop by with some lame excuse. don’t call. don’t text. don’t keep trying to pressure or guilt me into something i don’t want and isn’t healthy for me. BACK. THE. FUCK. OFF. i feel like i’m being backed into a fucking corner and it isn’t going to be pretty when i have to fight my way out.

so. that’s the vent for today. back to your regularly scheduled thursday now…

so THAT'S why they call it carma...

2010-09-29T10:09:00.000-07:00

what did i do this weekend? (now that it’s wednesday…)

well. since you asked…

come on down bob barker…IT’S A NEW CAR!!

that’s right. I BOUGHT A CAR. *heart attack*

and bought as in BOUGHT, no payments, no mess, just all mine. *sigh* oh happy new car, how i love you.

let me introduce you: this is bonni-

and that’s bonni with an _I_ not an _IE_. these things are important. and bonni speaks with a british accent and say s things like cheerio and top notch. yes, my cars, talk, they have names, and they have personalities. my last little girl was annie- of course she was…what else do you name a red head?

so. NEW CAR.

and i have a feeling this may change SEVERAL THINGS.

let me explain: i don’t have very good luck. not luck as in “hey look, i found a $10 bill on the side of the road” but luck as in life in general going smoothly and drama free and low stress. my life is pretty much the exact opposite of all that.

i believe in karma. i believe in a balance in the world. i try to do good things. i try to keep my positive side above my negative side. i try to help others whenever i can (except panhandlers…you’re not getting any change from me!), i try to do the right thing, i try to always be honest and forthright and all that. but it seems that no matter what i do, my karma never really pulls through for me.

or so i thought.

i haven’t owned many cars. my first car was a p.o.s. 1988 GOLD (mr t would have stepped back and said WHOA) chevy beretta. it didn’t work more than it DID work- something about the starter chip and they didn’t know how to fix it and whatever. not a fan of that car. had to change out when the kiddo came along, bought a 1992 saturn sl2, drove that and LOVED it until the ex husband decided it was time to trade it in on the biggest piece of shit i’ve ever owned, some kind of isuzu rodeo that had stripped 4x hubs, a radio that had been stolen and patched back in, a starter that didn’t work, and a rear tire that had to be held shut with a bungee cord. oh my god. i HATED that car. thanks, hubby, for making sure i had a nice reliable car. fucking asshole. in the divorce, the judge gave me his truck that i had just paid to put a new engine into- a 1996 dodge ram extra cab long bed…HATED that truck too. it was a monster. impossible to get a 5 year old and a brand new baby in and out of the flip forward seats, impossible to drive, even more impossible to park. BUT, i’m realizing that’s where my good CARma started.

i took that truck after the divorce and needed to trade it in on something practical. so my dad had his buddy pick out a car for me from his lot, i drove my truck to grandview (yakima valley), and traded the beast in on my little annie. now. if you’ve ever driven to the yakima type area, you know that it’s long stretches of highway with NOTHING and the trip in total is about 3 hours depending on how you roll. i took the truck by myself, drove down, managed 80 most of the way, stopped for food/gas once, and pulled into the lot in grandview. the truck drove great, new engine was working smoothly, not a hitch along the way, never a whisper of trouble at all with that truck. it was reliable, i’ll give it that.

i pulled into the parking lot of the car dealership, parked the truck, and took my new (to me) little ford focus. easy peasy. all picked out and decided for me. well, bud (the dealer) walked over to have a look at my truck. here’s how it went:

bud: what’s that? (pointing to my tailgate)

me: um…road grime? i didn’t have a chance to wash it before getting here.

bud: that’s not road grime, that’s oil.

me: where would oil be coming from like that?

bud: your rear axle…did you have any problems?

me: not one. drove fine- did 80 down here and not even a hint of a problem.

bud: hmmm….

turns out, in the rear axle of those trucks there are 12 ball bearing in the whatever dealie thing that makes the read end work- differential maybe? not a car girl. anyway…out of those 12 ball bearings, 8 were ground to powder, 2 were shattered, and only 2 were left in good condition. they had to tow the truck across the street to the repair shop because they couldn’t even move it off the lot. umm…HOW DID I DRIVE IT THREE HOURS? how did i stop for gas and food and manage to keep going? how had i been driving it for weeks before that? WHAT THE HELL?

score one for good CARma.

so. i had my little 2002 ford focus to replace it. things were good for a while. that little car did a LOT for me. drove her for 6 years. the last 2 years she’s been getting tired. my dad was set that i needed a new one. every time i talked to him he told me i needed a new car. every trip to his house he would clean her, check her over, and remind me that i needed a new one. he and my brother were going to help me pick one out for my 30th…much like vegas with dad, that never did and never will happen. but i knew it was time for a new car, with or without dad. i’ve been shopping for a long time. i’ve been doing research, looking at what i like, tracking consumer reports, prices, used cars, everything. i knew eventually my little girl would need replaced. the last two years she’s been making some pretty strange noises- every time i would hit a bump or a pothole in the road she would chatter pretty good. i’ve had les schwab check her out the last three times they changed the tires- everything looked good to them. i had a mechanic friend drive her and check her out- i was just making up the noises and the problems. but i knew she was getting tired, i knew she was running rough. i knew the transmission fluid needed changed, the air filter sensor was throwing an engine error light, the rear struts needed changed, there’s a few dents and dings on her (not too bad), she was getting tired.

so. it was time. i shopped, test drove, haggled, had a nervous break down, and finally bought a new car. thank you dad- you helped me get a new car, just in a very different way. i was able to take part of his estate and just pay cash for a new car. no worries about payments. no worries about anything mechanical for 8 years (or 100,000 miles), brand new, all the bells and whistles maintenance/road side assistance/safety wise (EIGHT airbags up in there people. EIGHT!). a GOOD, reliable, safe new car that isn’t making any strange noises.

there was some talk for a short while about the then boyfriend taking my little red car to drive. but we all know how that worked out. so NOW what do i do with a second car? i asked a mechanic friend if he wanted her, free and clear, to fix up and sell. whatever he makes can go in his pocket. i know she needs work and he’ll have to pay out that way. i wouldn’t have gotten much trade in wise- so this just worked well.

so. he took annie on sunday. and drove her. and complained about how rough she was running and all the strange noises she was making. YOU THINK? shit…i’ve been saying that for years and he told me i was crazy!

come to find out, he took some time to look over her yesterday- there’s a ball joint type thing in the front of the car that’s (from my understanding) the car version of a truck’s u-joint (i know what THAT sounds like when it goes out). the ball joint is almost completely separated. NOT GOOD. so. basically, like with the truck, he has no idea how i’ve been driving her around this long. he said it was BAD up in there.

so. turns out my CARma was working. it was keeping my car running…as much as possible. TWICE my carma has pulled through that way.

so. here’s my theory: now that i have a good, reliable, brand new car, my karma can return to normal things and maybe life will level out in other areas for a while. it can change back from CARma to karma and maybe other good things will start to happen.

here’s hoping…

breaking up is hard to do

2010-09-27T16:14:00.000-07:00

“A lot can be achieved by way of a little soul searching right now. There's some stuff going on with you on a level that's deeper than the everyday- perhaps regarding an important relationship- and it's definitely worth some thought. Meditating and writing in a journal might help you to get some free-form feelings down- then you can begin to apply your trademark powers of analysis. Clarity is right around the corner.”

so. that’s the horoscope for today. i know- i keep posting these horoscope things. i’m not a big believer in them, but it’s interesting to see how close they can be at times. that is to say, i don’t rule my life by them, i don’t check them every day or base decisions on them but every now and again when i log into yahoo i’ll check it and days like today it’s odd how close it matches up to what’s going on. not bad for some random computer spitting out some philosophical jargon and smashing it into a paragraph.

but. there is some stuff going on with me regarding an important relationship: there is no more boyfriend.

pretty important. especially considering how important it was that there even was one. things never really recovered from the fight. hell, they didn’t recover at all. i didn’t talk to him until friday afternoon when i texted him to see if he wanted to go pick up my new car with me. i got back “sure, but then we need to talk.” -sigh-

suffice to say: much discussion, most of it was my fault (some valid, some not), and that’s all there is, there is no more.

well, except for the part where i keep thinking about it. THINKING though. not heartbroken. not trying to patch it up. just thinking about it. replaying it all. looking at it from every angle. looking for my lessons. it’s what i do. analyze everything even beyond its’ natural death.

and i go back and forth. he was there when i needed him the most. that’s hard to let go. but there have also been issues and little arguments all the way along and those are really draining. not something i need right now. one of those- when it was good it was very very good, but when it was bad it was horrid things. there’s a time and a reason for everything. there’s a reason he found me all the way from iraq at the time he did. if it’s meant to, it will come back around again, but right now is not the right time for either of us. we both have a ton of learning and healing and work to do. he’s made me stronger in different ways, and i hope i’ve made him stronger too. he’s learning to be a grown man and make his own decisions and choices for himself, not what family or culture says he needs to do. that’s a gigantic shift for him. i can’t even imagine how terrifying but freeing that is all at the same time. and me- hell, i don’t know which direction is up right now. i need to get my feet back on the ground, take care of me and the spawns, make sure we’re all healthy and we come out of this stronger, and then MAYBE i can let someone back in. and who knows if that will be him or someone new. i don’t know. i just know that right now it wasn’t right. the fights over nothing. the fights over everything. the arguments, the misunderstandings. his belief of love is that you each give up a part of yourselves to become one. i disagree. i believe you add to each other to become one. i’ve fought too damn long and hard to build myself up. there’s not a piece of me i want to give away for someone else. i would love for someone to add to me, but i’m not giving up one damn part of myself ever again.

but i’ve been thinking about it non-stop since wednesday. since friday night. all ive been doing is thinking about it. did i do what’s right? will i regret it? i don’t believe in regret, so what can i change or learn from it? i need to make sure i know why i did what i did. and i need to know that it was right for me. so i keep looking at it, turning the glass looking at each flaw and imperfection. and the truth is, i know why i did what i did. i know it is right for me in this moment. but you still wonder…

the crazy fight (aka: he's too nice)

2010-09-23T11:59:00.000-07:00

welcome to my crazy.

today, on as the word of general (psychiatric) hospital turns through the days of our lives:

the boyfriend and i had a fight last night. it ended with him storming out and staying at his house for the evening. and i haven’t talked to him yet today.

what was the fight about you ask?

he’s too damn supportive.

oh yeah, you read that right. in my crazy world, there’s such a thing as too damn supportive.

see. last night was a bad night for me. as in complete and total breakdown. CRACKERS.

i went to look at a car and test drive it and all that junk. i didn’t want to make a deal right away because i knew that a) you shouldn’t take the first offer, and b) i’m having a fucking hard time spending money that came from my dad dying. YES, i need a new car. mine is starting to make too many strange noises. YES, the money i spend will be for a good, reliable, long lasting vehicle. YES, it’s something my dad wanted to help me do before he died anyway. but DAMN, it’s hard people! and it’s my dad…and it’s this huge- there’s not even a word for it. its this gigantic mess of emotions on so many different levels.

so i tell the sales guy i need to go home and think it over for the night. so i get the kids in bed and the boyfriend goes to see his friends and it’s just me. and i sit down at the little table where i have my dad’s hat and badge and basically all that’s left of him and my brother- the little memorial table in my living room. and i sit down to talk to my dad about it. and i look at his picture. and i just lost it. it hit me SO HARD that he’s not coming back. i know i did the service, and spread the ashes, and i’ve talked about it. but sitting there, looking at his picture, knowing that’s the only way i could see him any more. it hit like a fucking mac truck running down a san francisco hill with no brakes. it just leveled me. and i’m bawling and falling apart really for the first time. i LET myself just feel it. i didn’t have to keep it together for the kids or the boyfriend or family or general people. i just let myself grieve. and be sad. and be angry. oddly enough, that’s the first time through all of this that i’ve just let myself completely go. and it all came out in one giant mess. and i’m crying so hard i’m sick and i’m snotting everywhere and it felt good. to get it all out. to let myself really be sad.

and i finally make it through a good mess of all that, pull myself together, drag my backside to bed, and the boyfriend comes home.

so. he sees me in bed, looking like a rabid raccoon. and he gets upset. he wants to know what’s wrong. he wants me to talk to him, he’s in my face and hugging me and staring at me and asking me every 30 seconds to talk to him. now. this might not sound too bad. nice guy, right? how can i be mad at him for being worried about/concerned about me?

well. i’m a freak. so. you know. there’s that. i don’t like big hugs. i’m an in and out type person. i don’t like being stared at. forever. i don’t like someone bugging me every 30 seconds to talk. TRUST: when i’m ready to talk you won’t be able to shut me up. bugging me like that is only going to piss me off. and i try to tell him- i can’t talk right now. i don’t have words. i’m just sad and i just want to be sad for a while. but that’s not good enough. and i’ve told him before that i don’t like people all up on me and all over me. it makes me feel claustrophobic like i’m suffocating. i don’t like the touching, it’s too much for me. i go on sensory overload. if i want touch, i’ll come to you. and when my little charge port is full, i’ll back off. is it selfish? is it all about me? right now, fuck yes it is. sorry. that’s just what’s going down right now.

but he gets all offended that i won’t talk to him and keep pushing him away. so i leave the bedroom, i go to the living room to be alone. i’m trying like hell to not explode and freak out on him. trying to keep it all to myself and contain the crazy a little. but he follows me. and keeps poking the bear.

-sigh-

i KNOW, i KNOW. he’s just worried and trying to help. and i know some women would kill for a man so attentive and worried. but jaysus fuck. BACK OFF. and it just keeps getting worse. and he keeps getting more offended. and IT’S NOT ABOUT HIM RIGHT NOW. it’s about me. and i’m worried about trying to keep my sanity together. i’m sorry he’s offended, but i’m not going to focus on that right now. and he decides to go pack his shit and leave for the night and storm out. and part of me wants to stop him and make him feel better, but fuck it, _I_ need to feel better first. I AM ALLOWED TO BE UPSET. and he kept telling me to calm down. WHY? i’ve been calming down since august 16th. i’ve been being nice. i’ve been keeping it together. I AM ALLOWED TO BE UPSET AND FALL APART. I AM ALLOWED TO FEEL MY PAIN AND EXPERIENCE IT. i’m allowed to be hurt and be angry. I DON’T HAVE TO CALM DOWN.

so. he packed up and stormed out without saying anything. and i felt like an ass not trying to stop him. but i also felt like it didn’t need to stop him. if he was offended, that’s not on me. those are HIS feelings, and i’m not responsible for them. i tried to tell him. i asked for my space. i asked to be left alone. i asked for him to stop sitting and staring at me like a fucking crazy animal in a zoo.

so. he left. and i watched an episode of dexter to calm down and fall asleep. cause nothing says sleep like watching a serial killer hunt serial killers. and i haven’t talked to him yet today. and i’m not sure i want to. and i know it would be silly to end something over him being too worried about me (there’s other issues too). but part of me is already out the door. and part of me knows there probably wasn’t a right thing for him to do when i was feeling like that, but of the not right things to do, he really did pick the worst option and run with it. or…you know…sit and stare at me with it.

so. you know. welcome to my crazy.

is there such a thing as TMI?

2010-09-22T14:58:00.000-07:00

there’s not even a good title for this one. i would call it a TMI post, but this goes WAY BEYOND even a TMI. i will throw a warning up here: PLEASE, for your own safety, PLEASE do not consume hot beverages while reading this posting. also: please make sure you pee before reading as i will not be held responsible for any wayward puddles that may result.

oh lordy.

you’ve been warned. and i’ll warn you a few more times: i’m EMBARRASSED. and for _ME_ to say that…

let’s just say THANK HEAVENS there are no cameras allowed in bathroom stalls.

scared yet?

ok…i told you there would be a few more warnings: here’s one: TMI AHEAD. STOP READING NOW IF YOU ARE FAINT OF HEART.

confession: i like to have sex. i happen to have a boyfriend currently who also enjoys the same activity. last night we happened to enjoy the activity together.

still hanging in there? i know…that wasn’t TOO much of a shocker, but sometimes there’s things you like to pretend you never know…that may have been one of them.

another warning: EVEN MORE TMI AHEAD. again, if that last one set you on edge, you should REALLY stop reading now.

confession: during said sexual activity, sometimes additional *cough* items are introduced. like…say…vibrators. like small bullet vibrators. like small bullet vibrators that are *cough* inserted (more for his pleasure than mine).

just to be clear: small bullet vibrators inserted into _ME_ (not him) for his additional sexual pleasure.

still hanging in there?

oh crap. ok. if you made it through that…

so. last night happened to be one of those nights where fun was had and toys were brought out and enjoyed. yes, on a tuesday. we’re rebels like that. so. if you happen to know anything about the female anatomy, you know that after a good orgasm, certain muscles tighten up. this can, at times, make toy retrieval particularly difficult. especially when the boyfriend grabs the smaller of the two bullets for play time. there’s a reason there are TWO of them, they each have their own purpose. small ones are NOT intended to go inside. and these bullets happen to be wireless. and loopless. so. you know. you have to have a BIT of know-how to recover them. well. last night between the particularly good muscle tightening and the inadvertent use of the smaller toy, things got a little *cough* stuck. so. yeah. no amount of coaxing, muscle work, anything was helping. the only thing to resort to was a bit of yoga breathing, waiting for the muscles to relax, and then trying again.

well, here’s the thing about yoga breathing. it’s really calming. like…i don’t know…make you fall asleep calming.

and here’s the thing about sleep: it tends to make you forget things. like. i don’t know…certain search and rescue missions that were supposed to be on the schedule.

*cough*

so.

um.

i was reminded today. this afternoon actually. *cough* at work. umm…yeah…

turns out if you forget to do a search and rescue, it will eventually rescue itself.

*cough*

so. you know. umm…i’m “in the library” at work, the think tank, the power room, the loo…going about my business and suddenly i’m not so gently reminded of what i was supposed to do last night.

by a splash.

-sigh-

how’s that TMI thing working for you right about now?

so.

you can’t make this shit up.

there may or may not have been a fishing expedition that happened instead of a search and rescue mission.

YOU CAN’T FLUSH A SEX TOY DOWN THE WORK TOILET. i mean REALLY? my luck it would be the final straw on the camel’s back that screws up the whole work plumbing situation and causes every pipe in the building to burst and one little tiny silver bullet to go shooting through the air stabbing some unsuspecting person IN THE EYE and making them wear a patch and be a pirate for the rest of their life and making EVERYONE in the place turn and look at the girl with blue hair and tattoos because OBVIOUSLY she would be the person that would cause something like this and then EVERYONE WOULD KNOW and then i would get the nickname vampire killer (silver bullet, get it?) and would forever be branded at work. and while it _MAY_ initially improve my dating life (well, except for the whole already having a boyfriend that cause dthis whole mess thing) it would eventually just make people start avoiding my desk and looking at me strange and making sure i ALWAYS had hand sanitizer on my desk (if you were curious, washed my hands approx 4 times with DOUBLE soap and used half a bottle of purell).

long story short: i need to start doing more kegel exercises.