writers block

i don't like to think of myself as a one track mind person. i would like to think of myself as this more evolved being that can set aside one problem and work on several other things- you know, the back burner theory.  

the older i get, the more i find myself fixated on one problem at a time, dog on a bone, not letting go until it's fixed.

what do you do when the thing you're fixated on isn't something you're really game to talk about?

if you end up like me, you're staring at a giant pile of writers block.

welcome to my week.

i'm not one to shy away from airing dirty laundry. i'm not one to shy away from revealing (usually embarrassing) personal details of my life. there are some things however that are *shockingly* off limits to me.

unusual concept.

so instead, it ends up being trivial dribble vomiting out in some sad attempt to strike another vein of writing or venting or giving voice to thought.

does anyone else hear the jeopardy theme song right now?

i've been addicted to the tv show numb3rs lately- if you're not familiar, the FBI uses a math specialist to formulate all sorts of fancy algorithms to solve crimes. i understand less than half the show, can't stand a few of the main characters, but i'm still somehow totally addicted.  the main character, whatever his name is, has a certain flaw that drives me NUTS: it ALWAYS looks like he has a dip in his lip. something about the way he talks, the way his mouth is shaped, i don't know, but it always looks like he's half a can of skoal in.

GROSS.

i hate chew. loathe. it smells like an old first aid kit to me. always has. back in the days of marriage he chewed- always disgusted me.  

more disturbing: i've run into more and more women lately who chew. I GET IT- it's not that much different from smoking. what's the difference between a guy and a girl smoking? so what's the difference between a guy and a girl chewing?

it's GROSS for both, but there's something even just an edge beyond about women chewing. maybe i'm sexist about some things. i'm ok with that. seeing a guy with a skoal ring in his jeans is one thing. seeing a girl with a skoal ring? no thanks.  seeing a guy with a spitter in a bar? thanks for not spitting on the floor at least.  seeing a girl with a spitter? ew. seriously, just ew. never understood it, never will.

went out to a western bar out in the valley last week called the roadhouse. yes, patrick swayze lives on. this  place is almost as bad as the before. packed full of every horrible stereotype eastern washington/northern idaho is known for. everything from real cowboys in their dirty baseball hats and worn out ropers to the city slickers in their polished stetsons and never scratched tony lamas. CAN'T MAKE THIS UP: saw a girl with a mudflap girl tramp stamp tattoo. nothing says super sexy like a mudflap girl right there in the middle of her buckle bunny back.  you know what i mean when i say buckle bunny, right? take your typical bar fly, put her in pigtails, too tight jeans, some kind of tied up flannel/plaid shirt, add a crappy cowboy hat, and she'll be going home with the biggest belt buckle in the bar ever. single. night.  the bartenders are typical bitches that ignore everyone but their friends or whomever happens to be yelling the loudest, the drinks are overpriced, the way the bar is run is sketchy at best, and the dj (dj camo) is playing the WORST mix of country music possible AND repeating half the songs by the time the night is over. the bar, of course, wouldn't be complete without a mechanical bull oh so cleverly named "yo mama" again- CAN'T MAKE THIS UP. unfortunately, there's enough business to keep this place open at least a little while, even as bad as it is.

THE POINT- there is a point. saw more WOMEN with chew in one night than i've ever seen. EVER. spitters were left on our table by people heading to the bathroom who were *gag* scraping the dip out of their lip and throwing it on the floor as they walked by.

i'm a country girl. correction: i'm a rural girl. grew up in a small town. bought my first pair of boots in high school. i was never a farm girl, never a ranch girl, purely one of the people that just liked to wear the clothes. had the high waisted wranglers, the keyhole cut out sleeveless shirts, the boots- this was back in the day when i had a midriff that didn't look TERRIBLE if it happened to peek out a little- not that it had much chance with those jeans.  i went to work at a power plant where jeans and boots were required work wear. to this day my boots are still my most comfortable shoes, even when half the uppers on my favorite pair were chewed off by a dog years ago (the design was discontinued so i can't get new/replacement ones). i've never milked a cow, i've never bucked a bale, i've never shot/killed/skinned/cooked my own meat. i have no idea how to churn butter or cook a meal for 18 farmhands or if farm life actually is different than it is in the Farmer Boy book. 

so maybe i'm missing a legit part of country life. maybe there's something real farm girls know that i don't. i'm a city slicker. i'd rather read books that muck a horse stall. the idea of crawling up in a hayloft with a cowboy while a BIT inciting is outweighed by the idea of how many spiders there are and how itchy the hay would be.  whatever it is i'm missing, I'M OK WITH THAT when it comes to chew. i'm good. ya'll can keep your long cut death in a can to yourselves.

SEE, this is what happens when you hit writers block. a rambling diatribe on how i'm not a country girl and i hate chew. 

i'm off to drink a glass of pasteurized, processed, sanitized, chemically enhanced milk now.  i've seen what happens when you drink milk straight out of the cow. i'll save that for when i REALLY need to lose 20 pounds in one day.

re-learning

have you every had just a total mind blowing moment that is so simple and logical that you can't believe it's taken so long to get there?

tonight i did a web chat as part of the "renew you" sessions. it ended up that i was the only one that logged on and HOLY HELL- it was a serious mind blowing hour. it's going to take me a few days to work through all the stuff that got crammed in my brain tonight and even longer to really get a grip on it and make it part of my thinking. the biggest part for me is un-learning the BAD stuff and replacing it with this new GOOD stuff.

when it comes to learning i've always been that needs that certain key to unlock things. i can read over and over and OVER a math problem and never be able to understand it. then finally someone will say it a different way and BAM. why was that so hard? once something is unlocked just wait and see what i can do with it.

that's the way i feel about what i learned tonight.

people have drilled into my head for YEARS the fucking question i loathe the most on earth: "where do you see yourself 5 years from now?"

BITCH, PLEASE.

i have no idea what i'm doing this weekend let alone 5 years from now. and are you fucking kidding me? who the fuck can plan out 5 fucking years? or 10 years? do you have any fucking idea how fast things can change? a two minute phone call and your whole world can be knocked on it's ass and shaken like a fucking snow globe at a parkinsons convention. 

making a 5 year plan is just challenging the universe to find out how many ways it can fuck you up between now and then.

tonight i was asked that same damn question and i just laughed. fuck if i know.

then it was rephrased:

"what do you want to experience most in the future?"

well HOLY FUCK. that's a total different question. but it's really not. what you want to experience most in the future? a feeling, a trip, a life change...you have to start now and work towards it. it will take time. sometimes...oh...say...a few years. maybe even 5. who knows?

what do i want to experience most in the future? 

now there's a fucking question i can answer and work towards with the right tools.

the second mind blowing thought was a basic principle i've heard for a while, but i didn't actually apply it: the 80/20 rule (or the pareto principle to be fancy): roughly 80% of the results come from 20% of the effort. 80% of the work comes from 20% of the workers. 80% of the income is received by 20% of the population.

follow this- it took me a while to wrap my head around it. 80% of the time i'm content. but that other 20% - that other 20% holds 80% of true happiness.

i'm not sure i'm phrasing it right- it's one of those things that will make sense for a few minutes, but by the time i try to write it out it's gone again.

so 80% of the time i'm mostly content, plugging along, no real reason to want to make a change or rock the boat. but that other 20% of the time- that's where 80% of the change and progress and happiness making will come from.

i think that makes a little more sense. still not sure i'm getting it quite right. bottom line- when i can get to the point where i make that last 20% really start working for me and kicking out results- can you imagine that? 80% more content, happy, positive in life? that's HUGE. it's exciting. it's something to work for.

here's the biggest one- this is going to take a LOT of practice, unlearning, refocusing, just a LIST of things to achieve:

you know that voice in your head? the one that's constantly talking to you and telling you you're not good enough, that other people are judging you, that you're judging you- that stupid fucking voice that just won't quit? that voice that makes you think people are talking about you, the voice that "shoulds" you, the voice that can just tear you apart? it's in your head, so it must be your voice, right? it's your own voice telling you what's wrong with yourself and how can you argue with yourself? if it's your own voice, it must be mostly right...right?

truth: the negative voice you hear in your head is NOT you. it's an amalgam, a compilation of all the things you've heard since you were little. it's a giant pile of what you've heard FROM OTHER PEOPLE. it's what you've heard, read, assumed, learned, experienced and listened to over and over until you thought it was your own voice. it's all other people though. ALL OF IT. all these things i keep telling myself, these things i've heard and said to myself over and over- it's not me. it's all the things i've heard and believed from others.

why am i letting other people dictate what i say and think to myself? where is MY voice?

WHO WOULD I BE WITHOUT THE VOICE THAT LISTENS TO ALL THE OTHER PEOPLE?

that's a HUGE fucking question for me. who would i be if i wasn't listening to every negative thing that i've heard from every other person forever. who would i be if i listened to ME and the things that i know to be real or false?

i don't know how this works yet. i don't know how to stop listening to that voice that's been playing in my head for 32 years. i know it will be hard to unlearn the negative and start finding my own voice in there that actually likes me. what if i could quit listening to my family saying i'm not good enough? if i could quit listening to the people that have said i'm not pretty or smart or worthwhile? what if i could start hearing that i am worthwhile. that i'm enough just as i am? and beyond hearing that- truly believing it? from my own voice?

that's a big step and it will take a LOT of un-learning and selective hearing. i've been trying for years- when something like that is so ingrained in from way too many years to count- it's not an easy process.

but.

it's powerful. the idea that i don't have to listen to the negative because it's not true. it's not my voice. it's all these other voices. i've never been able to turn it off or not listen to it before because it was my own voice. finding out it's just a badly programmed recording of all these horrible outside influences- that's a whole different ballgame.

being able to honestly believe that i have found a path to start liking myself? that i've found the way to work towards truthfully, humbly, and completely being able to say: "I am enough. I am worthwhile. I am loveable."

FUCK. that's powerful. it's this overwhelming feeling. it's like coming home.

so that's what i learned and what i'll be working on. 12 more weeks of this too...i'm excited (terrified) to learn more and really start working on me and figuring shit out finally. 

renew you

i spent a whole weekend cleaning, rearranging, painting, working on my office so i would have a space to write, yet here i am snuggled up in bed tap tap tapping away on my laptop like the crazy nuthouse i am.

at least the office looks nice.

it seems lately as if there's a LOT going on but nothing at the same time- perception is 9/10ths of the law, right? pretty sure that's right.

it seems like there's days of nothing at all followed by days like today where it's 2am and i'm just finally calling it quits on my "things to do" list. that time management thing? GOT. IT. DOWN.

more like the insomnia thing- fucking olympic professional at that shiz.

fuck. i've written and deleted four paragraphs about all different things. seems like i can't quite decide which train of thought wants to leave the station first.

we'll start here: i was invited by a friend to a "renew you" weekly class (for lack of a better word) that he's providing to work on self improvement for 2013. since that's one of the things on top of my list for the year- PERFECT TIMING. i'll do it!

here's the thing- i'm chicken shit when it comes to working on myself.

well, not really. i'm pretty damn good at recognizing my own patterns, what i'm doing, why i'm doing it, whatever cause/source is behind it. the thing i'm SHITTY at is making a change. having all the knowledge is shit if you don't actually use it.

here's what i wasn't expecting: the first "assignment" for renew you is this:

"In order to transform our lives, we first must acknowledge and bear witness to the pain that
is behind our desire to change. The questions below are designed to guide you through the
process of acknowledging the area of discomfort, concern, or pain that is most important to you
at this time."

My first thought: well, i don't really have a desire to change, there's nothing really causing pain or discomfort that i can think of...

*blink blink*

umm...do i even read my own blogs?

*sigh*

the TRUTH IS: there's plenty of things causing pain, BUT if i don't poke them, they don't hurt. right? and if i can just keep playing by those rules things are hunky dory.

i mean- how much do i really want to dig up? how many problems do i actually want to deal with? that sounds like a LOT of work. i'm TOTALLY fine the way i am...right?

crap on a cracker.

then you get into the questions for this- what is wrong? how do you talk to friends about it? how certain are you that this is the problem? what has this problem cost you? if the problem were magically solved overnight, how would life change?

and THEN we throw in the mix: what KIND of problems am i supposed to be focusing on/fixing?

i mean, i have PLENTY but need a direction first!

do we start with my self loathing? my insecurities and self value? do we jump straight for the big guns and my inability to have a healthy relationship because i don't believe anyone can actually tolerate me long enough to put in the reciprocal effort? maybe the issues stemming from the fucked up relationship with my mother? the fact that i still haven't properly dealt with the death of my brother and my father?

or are we talking about issues like: don't do laundry every weekend like i should or have a bad habit of avoiding issues that i don't want to deal with (oh the irony...perhaps that's the place to start).

i got 99 issues and picking the first one to start working on just became one.

shitballs.

do i get points for at least knowing what my issues are even if i don't want to deal with them?


looks like that train left the station just fine.what's the next one?

new years goals update: i've been working on it!
had my first dinner party sunday night- LEARNING CURVE. things that need work: learning how to invite people. i invited just enough people or so i thought. only having limited space/dishes i kept the list small but varied, sent out invites and...forgot to follow up. awesome. it ended up that almost everyone didn't make it, BUT it was still fun with the two that did! and they were lucky enough to be sent home with TONS of left overs. SO: next month- invites, calls, messages, follow up, check in, GET PEOPLE HERE. also need to work on a way to let people know that while i wish i had a mary poppins house, i can't get every one in all at once and i don't want to be repeating the same people every month. i want to get to all the people that i've been saying "we need to get together" to for MONTHS (my poor aunt probably thinks i've forgotten about her...and my old co-workers). i don't want to offend people by leaving some out, but basic numbers say that it will happen. hmmm...should have taken those "mrs." classes in college. "proper table settings" and "how to invite your husbands boss to dinner" would be handy.

cooking at home: been doing that! see the above smashing success dinner party (at least in the food category. take the wins where you can.) maybe not the HEALTHIEST foods...after all, potato soup made with whipping cream can't exactly be #1 on the weight watchers list, but it's still better than processed fast food all the time...right? at least a smidge better i hope...

working out...ha ha ha ha ha. i'll get there eventually. i AM taking better care of myself though, so that's a start. daily vitamins, eating breakfast, lunch (sometimes), and dinners. i'm working on the getting up earlier every day (tomorrow doesn't count) and being all ooo...breakfast, proper getting ready, off to work like a grown up thing.

postings- well, there was one last week, and one this week...not prolific, but steady at least.

home: we did clean out the office, my room and the spawns room. there was a HUGE stack for the local charity pick up last week. it was NICE to see it all go. i'm currently working on the garage- have managed to move a few things out, hit a few road bumps, working on getting the rest out. most of the big plans will have to wait for spring/summer, but in the mean time just keeping things up better around the house is happening, even the teenager is arguing less about doing dishes and helping keep things straightened up. MUCH easier when it's all together instead of one against 2 (and a dog...he's not doing his share. asshole.).
 i'm still working on job solutions. applied for several full time/benefits jobs, a few part time no benefits but more stable/secure that could turn into full time with benefits. now it's just a waiting game...

there's a few random things left rattling around- possibly a new boy to write about (no train wreck yet, but you know it's coming). there's a long winded rant i'll get out of my system eventually about religion and whatnot. there's plenty of changes afoot...just waiting for shoes to drop.

for now- the whole "get to bed early, get up early, be a responsible adult" thing is reminding me it's overdue.

random fact: studies show that putting deodorant/anti-antiperspirant on at night before bed will help it work better the next day by helping it absorb into your system while you sleep. odd but true. now you know. 

poor ms. fluffington

i have to laugh a little bit when people say i'm a force to be reckoned with. i am the exact opposite of a confrontational person. sure, i'll think of a MILLION thing to say, but i'll never actually say any of them. i can draft and rewrite and rehearse the most powerful, poignant, eloquent, point hitting speeches IN MY HEAD. 
when it comes to actually confronting people or problems however: i'm useless. completely, totally, silently USELESS. i cry when i get too emotional- angry, frustrated, scared, mad, hurt, you name it, start the fucking waterworks. and not in a "oh, look at me throwing a crying fit" kind of way, just in the "this is a physiological response i can't help" kind of way. it's so fucking annoying. is there a surgery to remove tear ducts? that would be great.

why do i bring this up? because there's a few changes i need to make in my life and i'm TERRIFIED to confront them. there's people i need to deal with, issues that have long since needed put to bed, shit going on that just needs to be done and over.

and i just. can't. do. it.

i'm immobilized by the if's, and's and but's of it. you want to know the worst that can happen? i have the top 100 reactions to every situation in my mind, and trust me, i've gone over them a million times each. yes, this is what it's like to live with a brain that will never shut off.

worst part is, most times i do bite the bullet and just get something over with- the reaction is similar to what's in my head on the worst end of things. NOT ALWAYS, but a few times is all it takes to be terrified of a repeat.

i know i could say it all here, in type. i know i could exactly lay out every bullet point in logical, perfect order in a way i could NEVER do in a conversation. so why don't i? because i'm a chicken. i'm afraid that maybe someone will read it and want to have a discussion about it. i'm afraid that it will seem passive aggressive and wishy washy. i'm afraid that if i let myself rely on text then i'll never learn to put on my big girl panties and deal with things head on.

but i've got this quite splendid track record of train wrecks to prove why it's usually better to just keep my trap shut. so. damned if i do, damned if i don't. instead i just sit here drafting speeches that will never gain voice in my head, letting them rattle around over and over, driving myself just a little more cerebrally insane each day. it's quite delightful. well, in the way that fresh squeezed lemon juice on a paper cut is. 

i need to learn somehow how to have discussions that don't end in nuclear explosion brawls. i need to learn how to state my point, and listen to the rebuttal without getting offended or defensive. i need to learn how to talk to people before i'm at the quitting line.

welcome to every break up i've ever been through- friend or lover. a million little things that if discussed could have been resolved, but i let them back build until it's one giant rush of FUCK YOU I'M DONE! and tact and manners and decorum go out the window, every issue comes pouring out in the most verbally hurtful way, the torches come out, and some bridges get fucking burned. 

instead of a simple "you know, i'm quite unhappy with the situation."

it's becomes: "YOU'RE A FUCKING ASSHAT AND I HATE EVERY LITTLE THING ABOUT YOU. i want to punch your mother in the vagina for giving birth to you. i want too build a delorian time machine and go back to nine months before you were born and slap your father in the face for even thinking about polluting your mother with his fuckwit juice. i want to feed your pet kitten ms. fluffington to a shark while you watch in horror. i want to tie you down and force feed you tofu while i eat a giant steak. i want to break ALL the chips in your brand new bag before you get any. YOU ASSHOLE."

so. i suppose that's another thing to add to the list of improvements for 2013. any ideas on how to practice?

fresh start

it is officially the new year.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

proper grammar isn't on the list apparently.

here's to 2013:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

gentle reminder

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

then today driving home from work i remembered something:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

sludge

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

i should be getting over london.

i should be enjoying the holidays.

i should be...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

then there’s this other part of it.

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

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

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

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

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

here’s how the conversation went:

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

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

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

him: yup. that’s exactly it too.


“that’s exactly it too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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