525,600

"Last Published on March 31."

i know,  so much for the every week goal. THANKS FOR THE GUILT TRIP GOOGLE.

ANYWAY.

here i am. i know it's been over a month. i've had tons to say but not really sure how or how much (i know, ME) to say.

then i woke up this morning and started reading through my twitter feed and realized some amazingly talented friends won the 50 hour film slam last night (exactly like it sounds- they have 50 hours to make a short film, then they announce a winner a few months later).

HOLY CRAP. it's 50 hour slam time again?

that means it's been a year since i started working at the magazine. which got me thinking about how much can happen in a year.

and then i was blown away by the universe. again.

here's a quick recap of the last few years:

this summer it will be 4 years since my son lost his step mother and baby brother in child birth.

this fall it will be 4 years since i lost my brother to suicide.

august it will be 3 years since i lost my dad and step mom to a house fire.

this month it's 2 years since i bought my house: Almost Wonderland.

january it was 2 years since i left the corporate world.

march it was a year that i had been back to work.

this time last year i was attending my first events and getting interview for the magazine.

and this year: my house is for sale, i've left the magazine, i'm no longer at any of my jobs (next friday is my last day) and everything is changing. again.


it continues to be a wild ride.

so yeah- things are changing again. i'm still scared of change- the unknown is always going to be a mix of terror and excitement i think. but it's also really good. i know that things are headed in a good direction- too many things have clicked into place for it not to be the right steps for me.

i have to say- the last year has been a really interesting learning curve most of all. i've learned how to let go of some of my biggest issues, guilt, fear- things that were tying me down and i didn't realize it.

after losing my dad i bought the car i had wanted for YEARS. my dream car. the one i would get if i won the lottery. THAT car. my little element. then i realized it wasn't all i hoped it would be.

i never really wanted to buy a house, but IF i did, it needed to have all these things- a front porch, a big back deck. a fenced yard for the kids, older style, not a cookie cutter, trees, space for friends. Almost Wonderland is every. single. thing. i could have ever wanted in a house. and now that i've had it i realize as much as i love it, it's still not for me.


it's an interesting moment when you have everything you ever thought you could dream of and you look at it all and say: meh.

not that i don't appreciate every thing i have. not that i don't love that i have a house and a car. i'm not playing the part of spoiled rich bitch here.

i'm just realizing- hell, i don't know the right way to say it. i'm realizing that there's more to life than having everything you ever thought you wanted. things are just things.

not gonna lie- having things is nice. but at the end of the day- they're just things.

here's what else has happened over the last few years:

my oldest sons dad and i were able to REALLY draw together as a parenting team. it took some really shitty shit on both sides but now we're in this great place of working together as a team, even from across the state. we both realize how much the other has been through and how much family means more than ever and how important it is for our son to get that.

i've found out time and again who real friends are. i have people that disappeared when the money disappeared. i have people that could give a rats ass if there ever was or ever will be money again. i have some of the truest, hard core friends now that anyone could ever ask for. i know when the shit hits the fan that i have a LIST of people i can call for help and support. this last week was a pretty shitty one (more on that in a minute) and i was able to think of three people INSTANTLY that i could call for help or just to listen. that is a truly rare and beautiful thing. i have people i can talk over ANY subject with- and trust me when i say we've covered some very interesting topics.

i've learned to appreciate and accept myself in the last few months.

that's possibly been the biggest thing. i've learned to let go of why i'm not good enough for my family. i've learned to not feel like i'm not good enough for my family. i've learned that i am good and beautiful and lovable JUST AS I AM, flaws and all. i've learned the difference between my things that i can work on and improve and OTHER PEOPLE's issues that are out of my control and that i can't fix or change. hell, there's several blog posts on all that.

this is all an obnoxiously long story to get to this last week-

i was asked a few weeks ago to take over my boyfriends store. it's a second hand furniture store/consignment shop. i wanted to jump instantly and take it. a chance to try out every upcycle project i've ever considered and pinned on pinterest. a chance to be my own boss and be the only one to answer to. a chance to let my creative side have free reign moving things around and arranging furniture. back working with customers again, away from a desk. BUT- how do you leave secure jobs? steady paychecks?

to tie over, i asked a good friend of mine that needed work if she wanted to work while i figured things out. that made it through the last few weeks, but she is going back to school in just a few weeks, so something had to be done.

OK UNIVERSE: i get it. i have to make a decision.

fuck.

ok. so the monday/thursday job was not the greatest on hours- i was working myself out of time every week. BUT, i loved the people there and they had treated me really great the whole time i was there- from day one.

the tues/weds/fri job was for sure locked in hours, always things to do, but a much more stressful not healthy for me environment.

fuck.

ok. here's the deal universe: if i'm going to leave the steady pay/less healthy job i'm  going to need a little help. some kind of a cushion while i'm adjusting to commission only at the furniture. help me out.

not even four hours later i got a call from my old corporate job: by the way-  you still have money in your pension account.

*blink blink*

a sizeable amount of money. like enough to cover at least 3 months of bills while i wait for the house to sell and to see how the furniture store goes.

wow universe. that was fast.

OK THEN.

so on tuesday i gave two weeks notice.

on thursday i got laid off from the other job.

umm...universe? WHAT THE HELL?

i mean...really? why did i bother making a decision if this was going to happen? is this some kind of joke?

i went through an expected freak out. called up some friends. vented. yeah- i still had the pension cushion, but without a steady paycheck to supplement things...well...wow. now what?

i spent the majority of thursday coming to terms with things. crunching numbers, realizing it would still be ok, that this obviously meant i wasn't supposed to be at either job any longer, there's something bigger ready for me.

ok universe. i get it. i trust that everything is working this way for a reason.

then i got home thursday night.

that pension account?

turns out the corporate world doesn't really know how to do math.

the amount they initially told me was waiting was off. BY A LOT.

as in DOUBLE.

in the good way.

the cushion i was making these decisions on: DOUBLED. and? would be available a month earlier than they initially told me.

at this point i don't have any idea what the universe has in store for me, but i know it's BIG. and i know that things working out like this doesn't just happen. this is the right move. i feel like the stars are lining up, the winds are changing, whatever silly analogy you want to throw at it. things are falling into place, and this is me, stepping out. trusting that.

looking back over the last year and all that's changed- over the last 4 years and how much we've been through- all the high and low points, all the good days and bad days-

i'm excited to see what the next year brings.

i'm ready for it.

and i know, fuck, this is a hard sentence to type.

i know i have my dad's support.

after 3 years and never seeing his name anywhere- i've seen his name several times in the last few weeks. it's popped up in the strangest places. he's still here. he's not mad at me for selling the house. he's supporting my changes. he's still watching out for me.

so.  that's something.

things that aren't meant to be

hey, remember that time i went to london?

like...four months ago?

geeze- is that all? four months? let's see...thanksgiving, christmas, new years, valentines, st. patrick...yeah. four months. insane.

so. here's an update on all that since then:

i've been shockingly able to ration my cadbury chocolates for FOUR MONTHS. i'm eating a few now in celebration of the great chocolate holiday (aka: easter). seems only fitting to eat REAL cadbury on the pinnacle of all chocolate holidays.

also, since i've gotten back i've tried to keep in touch with new york. i knew he would be going through some tough times, and, honestly, i still held out a smidgen of hope that maybe when he got stationed back stateside...well...something. yanno? like maybe flying over there wasn't a total waste of time.

at first he would message a little bit. that soon changed into "i'm not talking to anyone, i just need my space," which turned into....*crickets*

yeah.

radio silence.

awesome. but i kept checking in like a good stalker friend does.

he slowly started to emerge from his cave and mentioned he was getting back out and getting around people. within a week this turned into "spending the weekend with my girlfriend" which turned quickly into NOT coming back stateside- it would be too hard on his dog to move. so he applied for two different positions in london to extend his tour overseas. 

i'm sorry...WHAT?

the guy that couldn't wait to get away from it all, get back to the states, get back to home and family? now can't move because it's too hard on his dog?

there's supposedly other logistical issues like making the divorce proceedings easier (which still haven't even started) and having to sell or move everything.

i'm surprisingly not even in the least heartbroken about this. it didn't even register on my scale other than this: huh. well, looks like i dodged that bullet.

i know. change of tune for me after flying half way around the world for my "one that got away."

here's what i realized: he's the type of person that can't stand to be alone for even a minute (which happens to be my number one trigger to bail). the sheets had barely cooled before he reached out to me. i had barely landed back stateside when he was starting to spend time with the now girlfriend (actually, interesting note- she "watched movies" with him the night before i got there). he doesn't want to have to move back state side and start looking again.

i got my chance to see the what might have been. i went to london. i'll never regret that i went. i would have regretted staying here and never knowing.

and now i can close that chapter. for good. with no sadness or looking back. it was beautiful for what it was. it's a sweet, young, romantic fairy tale and everyone deserves one of those at some point. mine happened to not be the happily ever after kind. at least this one anyway.

so: goodbye ryan. you'll always be one of my favorite memories.

dirty little secret

so. last week my big spawn started talking about moving in with his dad for high school again. that's a whole other post in itself.

so many questions from that including: would let my son just move across the state without me? what's keeping me here? there's a million more questions (and no answers) that have been swirling around in my head since then, but the biggest thing: WHAT IF I SOLD THE HOUSE AND MOVED? has been sticking with me.

the more i think about it, the more split i am on the decision. here's the problem: i LOVE my house, but i HATE owning it.

i LOVE my house. i love the tourett, i love the front porch. i love having a big lawn for bbqs with a hammock and a fire pit. i love the roses and the flowers and the fruit trees. i love that all my furniture fit perfectly when i bought it. i love that i picked the colors and painted every wall. i love the possibilities and ideas i have for it. i love it for what it could be. i love that i was able to try and say i did it. i owned a house free and clear.

aside from that: i hate owning a house.

the all american dream- a piece of land to call your own. living rent free. something you can fix up and do whatever you want it it.

i have that. and i HATE it.

i HATE property taxes. i have yet to learn to save up to pay them. technically i should be paying myself a little "rent" every month and setting it aside for these. yeah. that's happened. generally i get to april and october and let out a really loud FUCK. how the hell am i going to pay this bill? ok. so all one year. but still. it's almost april. and guess what i didn't do. again. shitballs.

maybe it's because i took on too many projects with too many assholes "helping" me when i moved in. the french doors that "friends" helped me install? still not finished and look like shit.

the hardwood floors that i paid a "friend" of the family to refinish? he used possibly the shittiest finish EVER on them, they're already scratched to hell, he never finished any of the thresholds and didn't reinstalled the molding and 3/4 round (and he's supposedly a professional hardwood floor guy).

the back deck that "friends" helped me redo? the whole thing was done wrong and needs to be taken completely apart and redone.

the kitchen is missing kick boards under the cabinets, the exterior needs repainted, the bathroom needs finished, the basement window needs replaced, the lawn is in desperate need of massive help, the office walls need cornered and textured, the garage door doesn't lock...the list is fucking endless. not to mention the fun little non-toxic whatever that showed up on the walls this year requiring a borax bath every few weeks.

there's just this endless list of shit that needs done...not to mention the stuff from the inspection report when i BOUGHT the damn thing that never got fixed to begin with.

i think possibly the most fucking frustrating part of the whole damn things is yes, i own my home, but i'm still living paycheck to paycheck, can't afford to fix any of the shit, and can't afford to take out a mortgage TO fix any of the shit. my credit took a dive, my bank account went from comfortable five year cushion to cobwebs and i don't feel like i have much to show for it. i never wanted to own a home, it was never on my bucket list. i simply thought i should do something wise with the money that showed up.

and now i have this fucking albatross around my neck that isn't drowning me quite yet, but it also isn't getting me anywhere.

even if it was all fixed. if i had a magic wand to make it all exactly like it is in my head- the whole fix-it list done, all the built in bookshelves installed, all the walls refinished with sheet rock instead of lathe and plaster, all the outlets updated, the knocking out and moving walls redone, the basement finished, the garage rebuilt into a studio, the lawn re-landscaped with a sprinkler system installed...even if all of it was magically done and it was the perfect vision in my head- i'm still STUCK.

i feel trapped now, stuck. that's the worst of it. i don't remember even feeling this stuck when i was locked into a corporate job. granted, when i was corporate i changed locations every few years with it- going to college, back home, to corporate, then out. and in that same time span i moved houses several (13) different times.

i don't like staying put. i don't like feeling locked in. i don't like any of it. i have too much gypsy in me- whether or not i actually do go anywhere, i can't stand having the option missing. maybe i haven't found my roots yet or maybe i'm more of a potted plant.

and i'll gladly admit: i loved having a manager or landlord to call when shit broke. i liked not worrying about property taxes and home owners insurance and water heater repairs. i liked being able to find a new place at the end of a lease if i wanted. i liked change and new and different. sure the actual moving was never fun. but setting up a new house, making it MINE was always fun. i liked the challenge of making things fit in different apartments, making the blank white walls feel like home.

i don't necessarily miss sharing walls with strangers, but is it really much different than sharing a fence line with strangers? i HATE my neighbors now more than i have at pretty much any other place i've lived.

so. i guess what i've decided is that whether i move across the state or across the city, i'm done being a home owner. i want to go back to someone else dealing with the headaches. i want to go back to affordable heating bills and included water/sewer/garbage. i want something new and different again.

i don't know how i'll say goodbye to this house. it's my almost wonderland. it's everything i ever wanted in a house. it's the house that my dad was finally able to buy me like he always wanted. and i wish i could just put down roots and be comfortable in one spot forever, but it's just not me.

 

 

Almost Wonderland

sort it out

it's the second night in a row i haven't been able to sleep. i even let the damn dog back upstairs after spending the weekend cleaning carpets because i wondered if maybe i just missed listening to him snore at the foot of my bed.

no luck.

i know what the problem is. i know there's healthier and better ways to deal with it. i have it all downstairs in a notebook from the 6 week course i just finished.

FOR NOW: i'm handling it the old way that causes insomnia and indigestion stress.

old habits die hard.

i've had my comfort food, i've dyed my hair, i've spend the last few days stressing and trying to come up with ideas and plans and at the end of the day, i'm sitting in bed, crying over an uncertain future, fear, hurt, anger, all of it.

the big spawn thinks he wants to go to live with his dad for high school. it's come up a few times. and i'm sure it will go back and forth for a while more. one day all he can talk about is high school here and his friends and all that. the next day he needs to move over and live with his dad and go to school there and give his dad a chance to be a parent.

i get it. i really do. there's an age when a young man needs his dad around. the shaving, the girls, the sports, all of it. mom just doesn't cut it. i've known it was coming.

i'm trying really hard not to go to some really bad places with this. just when you think you've learned to deal with rejection and all the baggage that can bring...it just pops right up again. and i KNOW my son isn't rejecting me, he just wants his dad, he wants what's different and unknown and intriguing. knowing and feeling are two VERY different things though.

i've reminded him it would be a HUGE change- whole new school, no friends, high school, his dad is in school too, it's away from everything he's ever known, it's LIVING with his dad, not just staying with him for 2 weeks. it's SO MUCH at once. it scares me for him. i know my kid. i know he's smart. i've been raising him to be tough and take on change and take on big things. college is only 4 years away. i know i will have to let him go at some point. i just thought i had 4 more years. and i'm just worried this is too much at once. as smart as he is, i know he's also not the greatest at talking out his issues. and with all those changes there would be ISSUES. i also know he gets very angry and picks fights and acts out when he has issues he doesn't know how to deal with. and i don't know if he and his dad would know how to deal with that. i'm sure they would figure it out. i'm a mom. i worry.

and how could i ever tell my son no to wanting his dad?

i don't want him to be like me. i don't want him to have to wait until it's too late to try to build a relationship. and if some day, god forbid, anything ever happened, i don't want my son to be able to pick up and go about his life like nothing happened.

i don't want him to be 32, realizing he has very few memories, and hasn't really been affected the last two years aside from the occasional momentary break down. i don't want him sitting up one night realizing life went on way too easy and way to quickly for something that should have stopped the world in it's tracks. i don't want him to realize that it can come up in a conversation and be discussed as easily as the weather after only two years. i don't want him to have to live with never even getting to know what he lost.

speaking of the occasional momentary break down.

one paragraph that tooks a full hour to write.

and. dialing it back in.

so.

he's been talking the last few days about moving over with his dad. i honestly don't know if i can let him go. i know it's his choice and all, but that's MY KID. i've spent the last 15 years raising him. i've spent the time working through the temper tantrums and school and homework and all of it. i don't want to miss seeing the good parts- driving, dances, girlfriends, high school...

i know college is coming eventually, but, that's...you know...four years away and totally different.

as different as oranges and mandarins.

and so then i go into over-response mode: i'll just sell the house, get a job over there, pack up, jump on over the mountains with him. TOTALLY LOGICAL.

except...yanno...it itsn't.

i mean- yeah, there's not a whole lot going for me here. i have two part time jobs, no family, a good group of friends i would miss terribly, but i would miss my kid a helluva lot more.

on that side of the mountains there's better jobs, better schools for BOTH spawns, my niece and nephew would be closer, and my old spawn would have his dad.

sell the house, have a cushion for a bit to get settled and locked into a job.

EASY, RIGHT?

oh wait...there's approx a BILLION people on that side of the state. all looking for jobs. and the cost of living is 3 times as much. and there's endless schools to try to pick through. and trying to find a school close to a house close to a job. and there's a million little cities all up and down the coast- do i look way up north by his dad? do i settle in the middle near friends? do i go south near the small piece of family that's left?

there would be great schools for the small spawn, but we'd be looking at another new school, new teachers to battle with, new friends for him to try to make, another BIG change for him. But the school here hasn't been exactly stellar, the kids have been rough at best...maybe a change would be best for him too.

what if the house doesn't sell since there's still more work that needs done to it? does someone really want to buy a house with the most fucked up horrible looking french doors known to man? (ok, a little over dramatic, the contractor did the best he could, but they still look pretty terrible).

and what about me? my support group here is small, but it's damn powerful. could i leave that? i have friends over there too, and would have the spawns dad, but would that be enough for me?

and i honestly don't even know where to start to consider any of it. would i list my house here first so at least it's on the market?

so i look for a high school first? then a middle school? then an apartment that's close to both and then try to find a job in that area?

do i try to find a job first? then pick a high school close to that? and hope there's affordable housing within commute/bus distance for the boys and i both?

how the hell would i pack up this whole place and move it across the state? across town is a giant pain in the ass...what the hell would across the state be like?

is the teenager serious about this? would i really change my whole life to accommodate him (answer is yes). 

it's just...a LOT. then you throw in an unexpected break down and guilt about a kid needing a dad. and i've been itching for change (again) for a while, but this seems a little extreme. and there's just SO MUCH to it.

and i'm supposed to somehow sleep with all this rattling around. thank heavens for pandora, laptop computers and the internet.  

three strikes: i'm not out.

in an unprecedented weekend of suck, i reached a new personal best (or worst as it may be):

i was stood up/cancelled on TWICE in ONE DAY for a date.  this brings the total cancel/stand up to THREE in a week and a half.

that's quite astounding when you think about it.

not sure whether to be proud or drowning my sorrows in a bucket of ben and jerry.

now, here's something for debate: would it have been wise to go on a date when i was high as ben franklin's kite?

then again, have you heard about some of my dates?

the question really should be why would i even consider going on any date SOBER?

some real peaches out there. of the dropped off the tree and half eaten by a squirrel variety.

i'm sure it's the universe's way of telling me that i should just stop looking. again.

online dating sites have NEVER proven successful in even the smallest of ways, perhaps it's time to take the profile down again and just wait and see what's coming down the pipe.

here's the difference between this time and all the other cancel/stand up times:

I DON'T CARE.

well, that's not the right way to say it.

I'M NOT DAMAGED.

there you go.  slightly better.

see, before whenever someone would stand me up or not call back or whatever from the list of a million things, i would take it personally.  i would revert back into the very real dark place of: well, that makes sense, my own family doesn't even like me, why would anyone else like me?

yes, that was a very real place that i spent WAY too many years stuck in. well, my own family rejected me, who would want me. well, my baby daddy rejected me, who would want me? well, my husband rejected me, who would want me?

it's a dark, horrible place. i spent way too much time and effort there over there over the last...15 years.

then i learned something: just because that person (or people) didn't want to be a part of my life doesn't mean someone WILL want to be a part of my life. just because those people didn't think i was good enough DOES NOT MEAN that i'm not good enough.

took a while for that one to sink in.

just because a few people don't think i'm good enough DOES NOT MEAN I'M NOT GOOD ENOUGH. i can't change their opinion. i can't understand why they feel that way. it's a waste of time and energy, and it's not how i want to live anymore.

I LIKE ME.

that's damn good enough.

i have friends that like me.

that's damn good enough.

eventually, some other life partner will like me.

and i'm willing to wait for that person.

i'm not willing to change who i am or hide parts of me or feel less than or like i should be so grateful someone finally picked me.

that. is. bullshit. someone will be damn lucky to pick me. not the other way around.

it seems simple enough, but when you've spend the majority of your memorable life feeling not good enough, feeling like when i was rejected or stood up it was because i was broken or not good enough or needed to change something- it's a HUGE difference.

in the last few weeks i've been able to set aside the rejection and the hurt. i've been able to see that i will never understand the WHY behind things and i don't need to. chances are, the person doing the rejection doesn't even fully understand the why. so how the fuck did i think _I_ would figure it out?

i would rather spend my time thinking about the possibilities, the good things in the FUTURE rather than focusing on the shit in the past.

i still feel sadness when i look at the people that reject me- especially family. but it's not a personal sadness any more. it's a saddness that they're missing out on something awesome. it's sadness that they let their own fears or ignorance or close mindedness or whatever rule their lives. it's sadness that they're willing to give up instead of be who they're supposed to be. i feel sad to see them stuck in a small shell of who they're meant to be.

i don't feel rejected though. and that's BIG. i don't feel like i'm not good enough. i know i am. i know that people in my life now love me and accept me. i know that i've only gotten better the more i've learned to love and accept myself. i know that i've gotten happier and more confident as i've learned to quit worrying about THEM and start worrying about ME.

before this turns into too much of a "tree hugging democrat" party (my big spawns latest insult. i don't know either).

sheesh. when did i turn into suzy fucking sunshine?

moral of the story: THREE rejections, ONE AND A HALF WEEKS. and i'm not binging on ben and jerry (well i AM, but that's the munchies from the hydro, not the sadness). i'm not getting all emo. i'm not filling up journal after journal trying to find answers i'll never find (and don't need).

i'm looking forward to whatever is out there that's better because obviously these weren't right. i'm staying positive, i'm becoming a real tree hugging democrat.  damn.

1st time for everything

so last night was wednesday. today is thursday.

now you're up to date.

wendesday nights are my one night out a week. i go to the same bar, listen to the same band, chat with the same bartenders EVERY. WEDNESDAY. i call it my #wednesdaynightshenannigans. there's usually not actual shenannigans happening, it's just the idea that there could be.

i know all the bartenders by now. i'm friends with the band (that's why i started going years ago). i know most of the other usuals.

IT'S MY FUCKING CHEERS.

so. last night i'm in my happy little zen spot and unknown asshole sits down next to me. not a big deal. it's the kinda place that people from out of town gravitate to- mellow atmosphere, good music, close to most of the downtown hotels. i've had some fun conversations with people in town only for a few days- all sorts of interesting occupations they travel for.

asshole last night started off pretty rough- right away wanted to see my tattoo. ok. i have tattoos, people like to look. THEY'RE NOT BRAILLE. they're not scratch and sniff. THERE'S NO REASON TO PET THEM. oh yeah. holding, petting, generally creeping on my arm. and then my wrists. THANK HEAVENS the others were covered or not visible at least.

DEEP BREATH.

so, he backed off and we actually had an interesting conversation. then he started creeping up on me again. and i tried to very politely make it obvious i was not open to this- kept my arms crossed, leaned away from him, looked straight forward the whole time.

towards the end of the night he started this sentence: "...so, I have a really nice room at Hotel Lusso..."

OH. FUCK. NO.

i tried to deflect- oh, i've heard that's a good spot to stay when you're in town. better than the super 8 ha ha. 

subtlety is lost on this asshole.

"You should come back with me and explore this connection more."

umm...yannno. NO. HELL NO.

told him i was flattered but would have to decline.

FOUR TIMES IN A ROW.

not getting the hint: if i won't go back to his room, how do i feel about public displays of affection in a bar? 

i'm not that girl. sorry.

"really? i don't even get a kiss?"

seriously- what part of NO isn't sinking in?

and it didn't end there. it kept on for another 45 minutes with him getting more and more aggressive about it.

at one point i even pulled out a pretty good standard deterrent for extreme cases: "I have a submissive at home and have to stay within the confines of that relationship."

this USUALLY does a few things: it's not only a form of a relationship they're treading on, it's also a fetish or unusual type of relationship that makes *most* people uncomfortable. if you simply say boyfriend, guys like this will just keep on- oh, you don't have to tell him, i'm better than he'll ever be...the usual bullshit. so i usually go straight for the jugular pulling out the "submissive" word. *usually* works just fine.

not this time. this guy starts in about wanting to be cuckold.

OH. SHIT.

so i keep politely refusing. NO, i will not change my mind. NO, i'm not going back with you.
 
then this bomb dropped: "i've never been refused before."

isn't that what serial killers say?

immediately the hair on my neck stood up.

OH. HELL. NO.

and the asshole is still UP ON ME. and my bartender is watching and letting me know if i need help he's ready to bounce the asshole.

i'm getting very uncomfortable at this point. the guy is still touching me, RIGHT IN MY EAR to talk to me, generally being a creep. i'm trying to be polite, don't want to cause a scene, this is MY bar after all- he's only here for one night, i'll be back next week.

i would like to escape to the dance floor, but i know he'll follow. i would like to leave, but i'm worried he'd follow there too.

FUCK.

he asks AGAIN if i'll go back to his room with him. this time, with the bartender paying FULL attention, i said: "why would i go back to your room? i'm not the girl to go back the room of a traveling sales man and be his free hooker for the night. i deserve better than that and i'm not going with you."

my bartender knew full and well at that point what was going on and really started to watch me. i'm actually so uncomfortable i'm shaking. this guy is just NOT backing off.

and this guy FINALLY backs off a bit.

THANK HEAVENS.

so i quickly pay my tab, grab a friend of mine in the crowd (who happens to be a sturdy guy who works out often and plays semi-pro football) and ask him to walk me to my car.

YES, i asked someone to walk me to my car.

i've never been legit worried about some creeper in a bar before. this guy just set off all the red flags though.

i got home and i was SHAKING. that guy really got to me. he wasn't drinking at all, he was just that creepy of a guy. and to not take a hint. AT ALL.

and i felt so guilty- i know my bartender was being AWESOME and watching out for me. i felt bad he was worried and had to watch out. i feel bad that i didn't squash it the first time asshole tried to touch my tattoo. i feel bad that i wasn't less embarrassed and more vocal about telling him no. why should i be polite when he's trying to make me a free hooker? i was angry that he even thought it was ok to proposition me AGAIN after the first time.

it was honestly the first time it had ever happened. i've had guys try to pick me up before but backed off after i said no once. i've had drunks try to be all suave and it's painfully funny to watch. i've never had someone completely sober be so aggressive about repeatedly trying to pick me up. that doesn't happen to me. i'm the chubby brunette they chat up while they're waiting for the hot girl to get there (not tearing myself down, it's the truth- i see them scanning the door every time someone walks in/walks by).

i've NEVER felt threatened enough to have someone walk me to my car. i'm eternally grateful a friend that i trust was there and willing to help me out. i'm glad i was able to quickly pay my tab and sneak out while asshole went out on the dance floor. i'll think twice about having a conversation with a stranger that sits down next to me. and i HATE that. i like talking to all different people. i like finding out where they're from and why they're in town. but honestly it will take some effort for me to be willing to do that again.

i just- THAT'S MY BAR ASSHOLE. that's my zen spot. don't come in and try to shit all over it. you'll probably never step foot in there again. i'll be back every week. don't you dare ruin that for me.

nice try monday

monday did a legit job of trying to make the day as shitty as possible. it's been fairly nice the last few weeks, so i guess it was just a matter of time before it tried to kick my ass.

nice try monday.

started out with a full connecting swing to the gut- had a very realistic dream about my dad last night. dreamed he was building a huge new house out in the woods- there were rooms for everyone, myself, the spawns, other visitors. this might seem strange, but it was one of the things that bothered me most growing up- when he and the second wife built a brand new house she didn't want any guest rooms- this mean when my older brother and i visited in the summer/spring break we either had to share rooms or couch surf. nothing like feeling like a guest ALL THE TIME at your parents house. it was a strange growing up.

the house he bought with his third wife had plenty of guest rooms and beds. it was nice to be welcome for once. and then in this dream- there were so many rooms, and he was so happy to have us and it was so nice to get to see him and talk to him and hug him again. and i was able to tell him that for the first time in a LONG time i feel really healthy and like i'm on the right track and going where i'm supposed to be.

it was a NICE dream.

and then i woke up.

it took me a minute for the full impact to hit.

and then i was in tears.

FUCK YOU MONDAY.

rough start.

small spawn picked a fight about wanting to ride his scooter to school. small issue that's actually really big- after the scare walking to school last week hes scared to walk any more but doesn't want to wait for me to walk him (he would miss breakfast). He wants to ride his scooter because it's faster. I won't let him because a) it's only 2 blocks, b) there's the what do you do with it when you get there issue, and c) it takes just as long to ride the scooter as it does to walk by the time you factor in crossing streets, crappy sidewalks, all of it.

ugh. not getting better.

i got to work, tried to set things aside, DEEP BREATH. because i had a dream about my dad and i know that New York is still working through his issues, i decided to check in with him and see how things are going.

apparently they're going VERY well.  as in he's been seeing someone and spending the last few weekends with her.

nice play monday. another direct gut shot.

and it's not like i'm sitting over here all devout and not being distracted by the occasional gentleman, but for him to actually be seeing someone? enough to mention it? and spending weekends with her? after all the...yeah.  ouch.

half of me is glad he's getting out and being around people again. i know he needs to not just sit at home and stare at the walls. but still. ouch.

so. i'm trying to stuff those feelings away, i'm determined not to let monday ruin my mascara.

then i get a phone call. the job that the temp agency though i was a perfect fit for- a direct hire, full time, great pay, benefits, executive assistant job- yeah, they filled it internally. no shot at an interview even.

FUCK.

ok monday. this isn't fun anymore.

it's fingertips on the edge of the canyon wall at this point.

those are some pretty hefty blows.

*sigh*

FUCK YOU MONDAY.

then there shines a small glimmer of hope- a prize package from castle megastore. yes, the adult toy store. FUN!

and then the glimmer gets a little bigger- my tax return will be deposited on valentines day. YAY.

then pandora radio pulls through with good music for the afternoon, and even though it's only 330 currently, i feel pretty safe in saying monday tried it's damndest, but i'm declaring a victory.

mascara is still intact. spirit is battered but weathering this stupid little storm. work is done in a few minutes and it's home to spawns and an evening of nothing on the schedule.

if you hang in there long enough and try your damndest to be a duck, eventually there's a break in the clouds.

i used to let this shit completely derail me. now i know there's a  moment of shit and an opportunity for things to get better. there's good friends that respond with commiserative but supportive texts, there's changes for random things to pop up and make the day better.

and, if all else fails, there's a few liquor stores on the way home.