That hurt

In an effort to be able to pay my rent this month (just went up. lovely) I cancelled my fiber of the month subscription. That hurt tangibly.

Why do I need this house sooner rather than later?

I'll be 15 miles closer to work for one. That's 30 miles a day. 150 miles a week. About half a tank, actually, although with all the freeway driving I have been getting better milage. When I'm spending 50 bucks every couple of days to fill the tank (yes, I know that's nothing compared to what other people spend. but it's a lot for me and I don't drive a big ole SUV or giant truck. I drive a Honda.)

My mortgage will be less than my rent.

I won't be living in half my available space

I won't be paying to store my belongings (included in my rent)

Baby will be back in her cage instead of in the cramped quarters she's been living in for far too long. This bothers me every day.

So please think good, positive thoughts about escrow closing earlier than June 11, the date we requested the extension through because I don't really mind being house poor, but apartment poor sucks. I miss my fiber package already. I need to figure out how to set up a soap of the month club because it's FUN to look forward to getting something you love every month.

I should listen to the voices in my head

Last weekend I took a little trip out west partially to be with my cousin on Mother's day, and partially because I was scheduled to meet Jestertunes and company. I discovered that Jester lives a lot farther from my cousin than I thought, and that the whole crew was loads of fun. Somewhere floating around the electronicshere, there are some pretty incriminating sound bites and likely at least one of me passed out on Jester's couch. This is becoming a habit.

Last night, I met Hellohahanarf. She was here in Reno for a Propane convention. It was madness in a way that i never knew that trade shows are. Everyone was nice, everyone was friendly, almost everyone was drunk.

I am always worried that i am going to commit some sort of faux pas. Usually, i am very careful and manage to avoid any embarrassing situations. Last night, the voices in my head said I was going to spill if I ate.

Now, if I am going to drink, I have to eat. period. it's my rule. Like the one that says I can only have two if I am planning to drive home eventually. Three, and I am planning to stay or get a ride.

Last night, the drinks and the food were flowing freely. and by freely, I mean that I crashed those parties knowing that the food and booze would be gratuitous. Sweet.

I grabbed a drink, and one of Becky's boys led me to the table for some appetizery. Meatballs. mmmm. finger sandwiches. I took the last spring roll. It was calling to me. I WANTED it. it was going to be GOOD. I carefully balanced my plate on top of my drink. (you're gonna spill) and walked over to the group.(you're gonna spill) I ate the sandwich (you're gonna spill) I tried to shut the voices up with rum and coke. I went for a swedish meatball. and most everything landed on the floor. Everyone swooped in to rescue me. As with any accident, I was a bit dumbfounded. I lost the spring roll, saved one meatball, and never went back for more. The boys happily helped me to scrub the sauce off of my boob (I held out my shirt. there was no gratuituous feeling. of my breast. The boy from Canadia had already felt my butt. He said he needed to see if I was a good skater. Apparently I am.)

A second Rum and Coke and I was feeling a little tingly. We moved to the next party. I snagged a margarita. They were serving cheeze and crackers. Pepperoni and cheeze does not soak up alcohol. I sipped, and someone announced shots. Which means I finished drink 4 before drink 3 was gone. I finished my drink and went to the bathroom. When I got back, there was another margarita waiting for me. THAT one landed on the front of me. I decided it would be my last drink.

Between drunk texting and all the pictures taken with my camera, the evening was self evident. At one point, I broke off from the group and played with a couple of my roller girls. I even managed to try and recruit a couple of ladies in the club. Add that to the schmoozing I did with business men in the hopes of scoring fans and maybe a sponsor, I think I did pretty good things for my league despite being shit faced. Don't worry, they were too.

All in all, I had a wonderful time. Becky and her friends were unbelieveable. They treated me like an old friend. I can see how these things can turn into a lot of naughtiness and promescuity, but none of the people I was with indulged in that behavior. I can see why there were so many wives along. If i were a wife, I think I would want to be along too. Just to keep the naughty ladies away.

Pictures later. I am going to go watch The Parent Trap. the original one. sweet.

Having a moment

Of frustration and not really anguish but something like it. Where I just want to lay down and take a longer nap than I had time for since I am supposed to be somewhere right now. Somewhere that is going to save me almost 500 bucks in closing cost but, I just don't feel like going. I feel like staying home with my pet and my crafts watching The Family Guy and The Simpsons all evening. Hiding out, skipping loans and derby and anything else that might call my attention.

But I don't have time because I need to go to this function and after that I need to go to practice. I missed one last week, I can't keep doing that. It's my exercise. Among other things.

Too many things, too many too many, I'm having trouble keeping it together. I am worried about money, I am worried about house, I worry about my job. The money is short, and the house is having hiccups (Please FHA, I need you to hurry it up) and the job, I love it, but I am insecure after all that has happened. And they, I would have thought they would have more procedures in place.

I need to go grocery shopping and Vettie needs help, but I don't have the money, although I have more than she. I didn't sleep last night for worry about the merchandise I volunteered to take care of.

We're bouting in three weeks, a close friend is divorcing and Cowboy is lost in so many ways, looking for help I am not sure I know how to give anymore. Where do I draw the line between caring, supportive friend and frustrated, impatient woman? They are fighting with each other.

I know this is temporary, that it will all come together, and even out again, and that things bunch up like this periodically, but when you're in the middle of it, it is tough to see the calm after the storm. You know it will be there, you know you will survive, and yet, the stress of surviving is almost too much.

I gotta go. I'm half an hour late.

Derby Moments

Although scrimmaging was pretty sweet, I think my favorite moment of the evening was when I flashed my wife to get her to smile for the camera. It worked fantastically.

and no you can't see pictures, my boobs look like crap in that bra. And no, I won't take pictures so you can decide.

OH! and I promised puppy fun!!




CUTE!

The silence was deafining

SO I'm out with the Cowboy, and we're minding our business, chatting as usual, at a local casino where he had heard they had good pizza (fuckin liars. ok, it was edible. but not out of this world. And mostly it was good because it had BACON on it. )

Our waitress walks up (finally) to take our order and says the following:

"You two are so IN LOVE; you're just chattin away!!"

We both stared at her. You could hear the crickets over the sound of the slot machines (shut up, we didn't know the sports bar was open to the casino, neither of us had been there before)

She walked away and we returned to our previously scheduled conversation.

puppy pictures to come. I have more pictures of the dog than the man. That's not saying much...

Ah. That's why

It was wonderful having Poo back for a day, even though I didn't get to spend all that much time with him. I even skipped practice to spend more time with him.

But I was reminded last night after he drank a six pack and got on the phone with Clint why it is that I have enjoyed my time without a roommate. Actually, that wasn't so bad, but he left the lights on which made the bird mad and all the noise she made kept me awake.

Then I woke up all night long thinking it was too bright in my room.

Poo forgot to turn out the lights before he went to bed (they were still on this morning).

And yes, the lights on in the other room will wake me up. Ask my brother, who was afraid of the dark when he was little, and would get up in the middle of the night to turn on the hall light. Which always woke me up even though my bedroom door was closed.

I do hope that Poo gets the job in question though, and he is still, and always invited to come stay at my home for as long as he needs to. I'll just mentally prepare myself better this time for having another person in the house.

Call back to a previous Twitter

A couple of days ago, I tweeted vaguely about something that happened at work.

A coworker asked, who meets people on the internet. I replied that I met the guy I am dating on the internet.

He wanted to know his name so I told him.

Turns out he knows the Cowboy, as he used to come into his work and try and sell them parts (Cowboy is an outside parts salesman for a large truck company). Coworker never bought anything because they got all their parts from the competition, who is cheaper and has better service.

My coworker didn't really say much. I got the idea that he didn't much care for the Cowboy, and it bothered me.

I mentioned the conversation to Cowboy who remembered my coworker and seemed to be happy that he had a good job. I didn't mention the part of the story where I wasn't sure that my coworker liked him, only that he had wanted to order, but couldn't due to cost.

And still it bothered me.

I realized that I have been frequently plagued by my friends' and sometimes my family's disapproval of whomever I happened to be dating. They didn't always say so at the time, usually, it was always after the fact, "Oh, I didn't like him" or "I wasn't really sure what you were doing with that guy". "Are you sure he isn't gay?" and once, a "That guy??" (that was from an ex turned friend. our breakup was new and "that guy" was the first guy I dated after)

It is human nature to want our "tribe" to approve of the person we choose to spend our time with. In the absence of my family, my coworkers and the Roller Girls are all I have. I know that Poo likes the Cowboy, but I also know that he doesn't believe it's a lasting situation. Frankly, I don't know if it is either, but that's between Cowboy and I. He is the first guy I have gone on more than one date with that hasn't met my mother and at least one sibling.

These are the people in my world. Although I was accustomed to the people I met knowing somehow the people I knew (San Diego is kinda small that way) I have not encountered it here. Until now. I didn't like it and I felt insecure and I realized;

That mine is the only opinion that really matters.

My coworker may or may not like him, but what does that have to do with anything? My Derby Wife's boyfriend definately doesn't understand why I am okay with the status of things (he also keeps trying to find ways to introduce me to his friends), but who is he to say what is right for me at any given moment? He's a good guy, but he and DW have their issues too. And he had never seen us together; it seems to work for us right now. My Seester's silence every time Cowboy's name comes up speaks dictionaries. But I know where she is coming from. I understand. At least it's someone tangible now. At least it isn't T.

All I can say is that my eyes are wide open and my heart shut tight.

Which is how I choose to be as I spend my time with a man who isn't ready to have "a hook set in" him, but calls me almost every day.

Taking a different road

Not the high one, just different.

Be aware that I am going to be vague.

I had an opportunity tonight, to join in a conversation that sounded, from 15 feet away, like it was about someone. And it explained something from earlier in the evening. From the couple of words I heard, I understood the gist of the story. It sounded juicy.

This is the point where I usually go weasel my way into the conversation so that I can learn what is going on. I'm nosey. I like to know what is going on. Generally, I will admit this with pride. I have learned that she who has the information wins. If it is gossip, I rarely pass it along. I keep it with me where it festers sometimes, or I forget it sometimes. Most often, I file it away for future reference.

Tonight I had the opportunity to follow my instincts, or not. I started to. I took the first step.

Then I realized I didn't want to. Because it's a bit of a problem. And I don't want to feed it anymore. So I left. It was easier than I thought it would be.