And then he said, "I love you"

I talk a lot about my dad, my realtionship with him, the run ins we have. I feel as though Daddy is one of the great unfinished-es in my world. My realtionship with him isn't as strong or as developed as I think it should be. I base this a little bit upon how I see my friends interract with their children, and a little bit on how I interract with my mom.

Yes, I know that no realtionship between two people is ever the same. Personalities, circumstances, schedules, get in the way. People grow up. They grow apart. And as life happens, it becomes more difficult to forgive the hurts and the neglect and easier to just be angry.

The holidays are especially difficult when it comes to my dad. Unless he lived in another state, chances are we would at the very least see him at or near Christmas. He was a classic Santa Dad. When we saw him at any time of year, we would eat candy and donuts and Lucky Charms. We'd watch movies and he would make omlettes with shrimp. There would be visits to his parents' and grandparents. Toys, Nintendo, no chores. Somehow, I didn't notice that the rest of the year when he would be out to sea for 6 months and then back for 6 months, we wouldn't see him until the last weekend before it was time to ship out again.

I know things now that I didn't know then. That he was probably on a bender for that time period. That when we would stop at his friend's house "real quick" and he would leave us in the car for what seemened like forever, that he was probably refilling his stash. Somehow, and maybe because I didn't know, it never interfered with our time with him. It was another errand.

Now that I am older, I do know these things. And there are so many other reasons to be angry with him. I try to let them go, but it's hard. I am only human after all.

Now, when the holidays roll around, I dread seeing him more than a bit. It has nothing to do with the fact that he is no longer "Santa" and eveything to do with the fact that I just don't know what to say. Its been like that for years. It breaks my heart. There was a brief time when I saw Daddy every weekend. A time when we could talk for hours about this and that. When he would tell me stories and we would go to the Swap Meet.

All that has happened in the last 9 years since my grandmother died has overshadowed that. Somewhere in there, I lost my father. Now I know that what really happened was that he lost himself.

On Christmas, we were invited over. I didn't get there until late. There was a miscommunication but I should have tried harder. I didn't want to try harder. It's become easier to avoid the silences. What I found when I did arrive was a relaxed father. Who started almost immedietly telling stories. To me my father is the sum of his stories. I love every outrageous tale. Many are true, some I question. The one he told that night will be AWESOME if it is true, and is one of the few that I might be able to get backup on. We will see.

For the first time in a long time, when my sisters got ready to leave, I didn't jump at the chance to go too. I wanted to stay a little longer. This feeling made me happy and broke my heart a little.This is how I should always feel. I left knowing he was coming to dinner the next night.

He did. Since Uncle Mike was there, he launched into stories again. Some I had heard, some I had not. Still, all the world is right when Daddy is telling stories. I get that from him. During the course of these tales, it came out that Daddy has not fished in quite some time. 5 years, actually, which is how I know that he has lost so much of himself. The parts of Daddy that aren't made up of stories are made up of fishing. I don't really want to fish unless it's with him; I only catch fish when we are together. (and I don't want to bait the hook, kill the fish, clean it...)

5 years is a long time to go without doing the thing you love to do the most. Later, after he left, Uncle Mike mentioned taking him out (UM is an AVID fisherman who is frequently in Bass tournaments) and I told him how much it would mean to me if he would.

I'm not sure how much fishing Daddy has left. Each time I see him, I learn something new about his growing list of health issues. From the back issues that may leave him paralyzed to the heart drugs he doesn't want to take because they will render him unable to tell where his bloodsugar is; dangerous for a diabetic.

I don't know how much time I have left with my dad. The fact that he didn't expect to make it past 55 doesn't make it any easier for either of us to accept that the years of hard living have caught up. I am thankful that he's rediscovering the important things now though. Maddy lights him up like nothing else and I think he knows that all the things he missed out on over the years while he was being selfish with himself have culminated in her; so those things must have been wonderful too. And they were. I'm sorry he missed them.

I was sad to see him go last night. I was enjoying him again. I pray that we are able to spend more time together so that the good memories can replace the bad. He gave the usual round of hugs last night, ending with my mom. As they held each other close, he said, loud enough for us all to hear, "I love you". Not an easy thing to say to a woman you have been divorced from for 31 years. But an important statement. And so nice to hear. Not because I have any sort of thought about them getting back together, but because I know that it is important and healing to tell the people you love how much they mean to you.

I could certainly say it more often.

Flew south for the holiday

Ah, the warm sunshine of SoCal. It's good to be among family, good to be home. Except now that I HAVE a house of my own, it feels less like home and more like somewhere I used to call home. Probably as it should be.

I'm enjoying my family, have had plenty of time with my neice who really is the world's cutest kid and who, unlike most children, doesn't cry when I smile at her, she smiles back. Good match. I'm sure it helps that she seems to like everybody.

We're celebrating Christmas on Saturday this year. My father is invited to dinner and we should have a full house. In the meantime I'm spending time with my mom and hope to go look at lights with her and Girl Roomie while I am here. Seeing Poo is on the list too. My trips are too short, but also feel long. The puppy butt is staying with Bella and Baby and Oliver are home alone. I I'm sure she's fine always fear I will return to a dead parrot. I'm sure she's fine.

That's all I have. Nice and mellow and even keel. Can't possibly complain about that!

Wisdom from the magic pirate head

I asked the magic pirate head today the following question:

"Will I meet a nice man to date?"

To which he answered,

"No Way, ARRG!"

So of course I had to ask,

"Will I meet a mean man to date"

And he said,

"Aye, Captain!"

So you see? The ever truthful oracle says it's assholes for me so I'm going to stop trying to pick out the nice ones.

I'm looking forward to getting out of this funk and back to feeling confident and fulfilled again. I like me best that way.

A book

So much to say. So much self censure. The things I want to talk about, need to get out of my head and off of my chest so that I can let something healthy fill the fissure in my soul, I can’t. I am too public.

And then I argue with my self. Because I know I am beyond blessed. I am achieving the things I always dreamed of. I have no room for complaint. And yet I ask for more. I try to write about it, and I sound like I am throwing a pity party. I’m tired of those.

I delete my posts and remind myself to Need Less.

I have so much. The wonders, they don’t cease. From the Cookie Thief offering much needed cash to help him paint his kitchen to Bella’s wonderful discovery of an almost new washer and dryer, free, if I just pick them up. And Vic making sure I could. Mandrew hooking up the washing machine. It doesn’t sound like a big thing, but I would have made a larger mess. And I don’t know if I could have gotten the fittings tight enough.

My mom would tell me that I deserve these kindnesses because I’m a good person. I don’t see how I’m any better of a person than anyone else. But I do feel like it’s important to pay it forward.

I have so much. House, food, dog, a good job. The picture is pretty well perfect. The friends I have met here are unbelievable. I miss my family but with the friends I have, that hole in my soul is a little less empty. My cup runneth over.

And yet. That same issue boomerangs back again.

I’m lonely. I shouldn’t be. I have and do so much. I remind myself that it is a biological need and reality to want to have a partner. But I also like to tell myself that I am above that. That I am an evolved creature.

I know better. I am consistently making decisions that leave me curled up on the floor wondering when I’m going to get it right. I knowingly make the choices I make, telling myself that I’m being smart about it this time, and yet the end result is the same. How long will it take for it to stop hurting this time?

I tell myself I need to find the lesson. That it isn’t time right now; I watch the years slip by. I feel more and more like Bridgette Jones every day. Without the vodka and the cigarettes. Especially when people ask me, and they often do, why I am still single. I am not, actually, covered in scales. I don’t have a snappy comeback; I just smile and shrug my shoulders. Then I break a little more inside.

Bella asked me today if there isn’t a reason I choose unavailable men. I have explored this. I have looked over my psyche with a magnifying glass and a nit comb. I have examined the men I have dated in the 5 years since my last long term, real, solid, secure relationship. There are some patterns. I am trying to learn from those. Sometimes, there just aren’t. B. How could I have known he was lying about everything? Hi5. We still talk over messenger sometimes. He says he misses me. He says he made a mistake. He says maybe he wants to see me when he’s in town, or maybe it would be better if he didn’t. Jess. Who told me how wonderful I am, how interested he is in getting to know me better. We’ve scheduled 2 dates. They both got cancelled. He had good reasons. Still I had to wonder if that’s how it would be. It seems when I try and break the pattern, when I try to choose wisely, I’m still wrong. I can only blame myself for so much failure. Sometimes, it’s not my fault. I can’t control what other people do.

That’s where I am right now. Where I have been for the last couple of months since the “I am Woman Hear Me Roar” momentum of Hi5 moving and me buying a house wore off. During the worst of it, I hold my head up high, smile, and if possible, skate it off. It’s hard to focus on my heart when I am concerned about what my feet are doing or where the next hit will come from. I have to admit though, that it doesn’t take much to distract me from my focus and to bring it all back. I try to keep that to myself too. I made a promise.

Until things change though, and they always do, I will do what I always do. Smile. Persevere. And try to remember to count my blessings when I can’t sleep.

Little Miss Popular

Although I don't really date, not for lack of trying, it just rarely gets as far as a man taking me (anywhere) to dinner, it appears that I am quite desirable.

I wouldn't know this except that I have now received two emails from two different men. (although they must know each other because the verbage was exactly the same in both.) Yes indeed. I, amazingly have so facinated these two men that they wrote secret blogs to me.

Now, I didn't read the second one, but the first one, written just for me, invited me to guess who the author was and to take a look at some racy pictures of him with my name written on his body via a website. Now, mind you , the website would ask for my credit card number, but only to verify that I am not a robot.

Alas, I have sworn off paying for dates. But gosh, it's flattering to know I am wanted.

In other news, things are much the same as they have been. The house is being unpacked slowly, I am looking forward to spending some time with my family during the next couple of holidays, and I fear I must be insane because in addition to hearing voices and talking to myself, I find myself repeating the same action and expecting different results. Actually, I haven't heard voices in a few years...But I'm pretty sure that if I look at other stuff scientifically, the end result should have been obvious.

Stupid girl.

Where did November go?

I can't rightly say. It seems like last weekend that I was cleaning and painting then moving. Then cleaning and cleaning and not-bouting. (I reffed. it was awesome. I still got knocked over)

The new mattress, it's helping the pain go away. So are weekly visits to the Chiropractor. Except now I get to go 2 weeks without. YAY! progress!

Drove to San Diego for the Holiday. I did my best to snort my niece up my nose and take her with me. It didn't work, but I swear it wasn't for lack of trying. It was good to spend a few moments with my family. I don't feel like I spent enough. And the crowds were large enough at each stop that I fear there are some important people I missed giving more than a hug to. I hope I don't regret that. My father showed up to Maddy's baptism and birthday. I gave him a hug and didn't want to let go. It was a strange moment in my world. It was neat learning that the church where the ceremony was held was the same one where Daddy and some of his brothers were baptised. It's always neat to gather a little family history. Especially since I used to love looking at that church as we drove past on the 5 freeway.

Daddy looked so small. (it could have been the high heels) I worry about how much longer I will have him; despite our history, I love him and am proud of him for all that he has accomplished in the last couple of years. But his body is starting to give; he has developed heart trouble and I know in my heart that all the years of hard and fast living is catching up. I wish I could get that through the heads of addicts. That what they are doing now is taking years away from them later.

It was wonderful seeing Girl Roomie too. And kissing her pregnant belly. She's going to make such a wonderful mom. She's an incredible person.

All in all a good trip. And a wonderful holiday. I can't WAIT to go back for Christmas!

A conspiracy theory

I love my house. But enough about that.

What I took from my buying experience is the knowledge that people are far more kind and generous than I ever thought possible. From the overall well wishes, to the loan shark (loan turtle?), to my coworkers who paid for an epoxy floor for my garage. And the one who came over and spent his Sunday installing it. And Mandrew who is my hero because he brought over 3 TRUCKLOADS while I was at work, then rearranged my living room so when I got home, it looked like a home and I felt a little bit of peace for the first time in weeks. And he gave the bunny treats. And the puppy some love. That guy really knows how to make a girl swoon. And the fellas who gave me their Saturday morning, moved my crap, and then THANKED me for such an easy move. And then left before I could feed them beer. or lunch. and before they ate all the donuts. Ahem. And Pdog who let me feed him beer and lunch. It made me happy to treat.

And my wife. I seperate her out from everyone else that helped me to move because she did so much more. She listened to nonstop house talk for three months. She gave me support and encouragement and mushy gushy. Overall, she makes it bearable to be without my family. I will never be able to repay her for all that she has given me and she would laugh at me for suggesting that I should try.

The unpacking has begun as has the cleaning and gathering of crap from the old house. I'm gonna have to take some serious stock of my stuff because I just don't have as much cabinet space. And there are hobbies I have not touched in years. Mandrew said after moving my stuff (That it was like going through the underwear drawer of my personality) that I need to have another garage sale and I wholheartedly agree. Heck, I found stuff while I was clearing the old place that I need to pass along. I didn't want to bring it with but, I don't really have a choice.

In other random news, I was pondering the internet porn industry on my way home from work and it occurred to me, that if you were a person who thought porn was evil, what better way to make it "dirty" than to give it a virus that gets passed along to those who watch it? An internet STD. Call the disk doctor, my computer caught herpes. Well, mine didn't I don't look at porn.

Still crazy after all these years...

I closed on my house today. At least, I'm pretty sure it's mine. I have a key. And I used the bathroom WITH THE DOOR OPEN. The bathroom door, not the front door. I locked the front door. Sometimes, neighbors just come on in. Thank goodness I had TP in my car.

The spending though, the spending has just begun. I need a refrigerator, washer and dryer, tires, a new mattress and paint. Ok, I bought the mattress tonight.

This is not a luxury item! I needed one. The old one is about 14. My grandmother (the dead one) bought it for me with a bed set that is now long gone. I love my bed. is comfy and broken in. But my back has been hurting for going on 3 months now. It feels the best when I am able to sleep on the edges which is kind of difficult; I keep slipping into the sagging middle. Back problems mean I can't skate. Or at least not to my full capacity. No bueno. No Bueno at all. Plus I hurt all the time but the SKATING!! lol. 

I'm excited though. Quite a bit stressed and over reaching with my time, but excited. I know myself. I will pull it off, I always do. 

A home of my own. living there is going to be FANTASTIC!!

The waiting! The horrible, horrible waiting!

tap. tap.

Anyone who knows me knows I have very little patience. very little. little. I try really hard and for the most part can control my spastic tendencies and manage to not go nuts and fly apart into all sorts of directions all at once. little bits of monster everywhere. 

On the outside, in public, stoic with a smile, if that is possible. Alone? total spaz. total. Without an ounce of ability to handle any sort of excitement without running around the house jumping up and down and harassing the dog.

You will never see that if I can help it. Even those with otherwise privileged viewing don't get to see that. They can see me nakid, but not spazzing out and NEVER will anyone see both at the same time. Except the dog. He doesn't tell on me. And he can't hold a camera. No thumbs.

So the fact that I am sitting calmly typing on the computer, telling you all my deep dark secrets instead of freaking out over the fact that I am THIS CLOSE to signing papers on my house? A minor miracle. I totally thought it would be today and that I would have a key and be able to invite all the girls and boys over for a beer (or Mikes as the case may be) after practice. But it isn't. Which means I will have to sit through a WHOLE NOTHER day not spazzing out and concentrating on my work while my house is ALMOST MINE.

Almost. But not quite. But also not his.

Him. He is at the top of my list of wonderful men right now. He has been cleaning the house as he moves out. Cleaning! a Short Sale! Do you know how much stress he saved me? Seriously! My mom thinks I should give him my number but I think that's creepy. And I really need to stay away from the recently divorced ones. Ahem. They have healing to do. I'll still have to clean a bit, of course, but still, I am a lucky girl.

Practice will be a good place to spend all this excess energy. Derby. My favorite love/hate relationship. I love the skating. I hate the politics.  I consider leaving, but I love it so. I don't know how to be less involved. So much I don't say here because it is public. So many rants unspoken. And I don't think there is a way to password protect through blogger. 

I know. I shouldn't say anything here that I wouldn't shout from the rooftops. Which is why I don't. Hi5 chatted one day that I should remember that it is a hobby and not a lifestyle. He has no idea how the sport and the surrounding community suck you in. And in some cases suck you dry. I have joined a vampire cult? I look and feel great but sometimes I think I have given up my soul to get there. And when someone new joins? When they tell me how they love it? I rub my hands together and say "excellent" in my best Montgomery Burns impression because I know I have helped to hook someone else onto my drug. 

Then there are nights like tonight. Where I work as hard as I can and after feel warm and fuzzy and I remember why I stay.

Sigh. So many thing running thorough my head...

Where it's at

I walked through my house today. It looks good and he's CLEANING IT AS HE GOES. Holy crap, I'm a lucky girl. It does need to be painted but the house is the awesome. 

I've been super busy procrastinating the packing process and coming up with new illiterations.  And with Derby. I've been working the haunted house at the skate rink to hep raise money for the league. Thanks to this wonderful opportunity, I have two new portraits to share. 

Although it may not be readily apparent, I am scary. What is even scarier is how I managed to do this:

This may not look particularly impressive until consider that in order to leave a face print on the wall, you have to hit it pretty hard. My nose is still tender, and it's still frickin hilarious. And no, I was stone cold sober.

You should play World of Warcraft!

Every so often, I will befriend a WOW geek and they, will try and convince me that I should play. I always give them the same answers:

I don't want to spend all my time on the computer

I will get addicted to it and won't go to bed

I have better things to do

I would rather be creating

And then along comes Facebook. Where people send you all sorts of cute gifts and flowers and animals and drinks to apply to APPLICATIONS where you can go play for hours and help your friends and send them gifts and flowers and animals and drinks...

It never fails, I get sucked into an application and find myself farming for hours or running my very own shop or for goodness sake, yesterday I opened and designed my very own theme park! Fun!

Right?

I am a hippocrite. Because I woke up this morning thinking that I spend way too much time in these virtual worlds. Setting my mental clock for the moment my virtual turkey is done so that it doesn't spoil on the virtual stove. Worrying about whether I will harvest my virtual crops before they die in the fields.

Menwhile, my REAL dog needs attention and my REAL garden died even though it probably had at least one more pumpkin and three more squash in it. And my REAL soap business is, well, we've talked about that.

I told myself this morning that I needed to spend less time on line and more time doing things like oh, packing. Then I came home this afternoon and got online. While I DID get some roller girl business done, I also spent a little too much time on face book. I also realized this morning that it's GOOD that I can't face book at work. 

I did delete my theme park today. I think the cafe might be next. The farms (yes, plural) can go a few days without my attention. 

I may as well be playing WOW. I'm not going to. I don't need more reasons to be on the internet or more things to pay for. What I do need it to reset my priorities. And quit being an idiot about other things (working on that consumes far too much of my time. thankfully I can admonish myself mentally and still function mostly. But if I zone out, it's because I'm struggling with something I can't talk about) And maybe give myself a time limit, like you have to with little kids. Then turn the computer OFF. 

I'm feeling crumbly

I know better.

I know that I can only handle so much and yet I insist on piling my plate higher and higher.

It's easy to forget because I'm not dealing with paperwork right now that I am currently going through one of life's most stressful moments. I'm buying a house. Escrow closes in two weeks and I am so scared that something isn't going to go through, that the bank will find me or the house unworthy, that I push it away and think about other things.

I'm moving. Another one of life's major stresses. Getting a house packed and ready without screwing myself out of the essentials and oh yeah it needs to be cleaned, repaired and prepared for the next tennant (Yes, i know this is technically the lsndlord's responsibility but he is also my friend and I am not going to leave him with a mess) and by the way I haven't forgotten that I need to make a payment to the loan shark to keep them from getting screwed and buy a refrigerator and a washer and dryer and prepare the new house for my occupancy (Clean and paint) Granted it will be MY house. Mine. I'm more excited than I like to admit because I am so worried that something will go wrong and you KNOW I don't do disappointment well.

I miss my family a lot lately. Maybe because I need them more than usual right now.

Roller Derby...

There's always stress involved with Derby. Always. Usually I just skate it off. Lately though I haven't been able to. My back is bothering me again and has been for many months. I find temporary relief from the pain here and there and it doesn't usually keep me up at night but it's there and I am monitoring it closely. But that means I can't skate as hard as I would like. which means my aggression and stress build up. I'm being smart about my back though. When it starts getting tender I do something else. If I have been sitting too long, I get up and take a walk. If it starts getting sore when I'm skating, I stop. That's helped a lot but I don't know if I will be in any condition to bout on November 14. It was hard telling my team that last night. Not to count on me. This will be the second bout I have missed this season due to injury. If I am not better by then.

And the Merchandise. Usually not a problem. I order when we are low and try not to overdraw the account. But it was suggested that for Chistmas we offer a bunch of stuff to the girls that we don't usually offer. Which means it all has to be gathered and quoted. In the next couple weeks. This was on the tails of a suggestion from the same person that I allow her to help me and that I form a comittee. I said no to both. If I get help, I would like for it to be someone NOT on the board and NOT in charge of her own comittee and for goodness sakes, I'm comitteed out. Then the same person came forward with a great deal on sweatshirts which needed to be offered to everyone if I didn't want to look like an asshole and miss an opportunity to get items people have been requesting for awhile. the response has been wonderful. The part of me that doesn't trust anyone wonders if it wasn't calculated. A way to force me to do what was asked of me. The part of me who wants to believe that everyone is in it for the good thinks that other part is a bitch.

Thank goodness for my Wifey who had the wonderful suggestion that I bring all RRG stuff over to her house until after the move so that nothing gets lost. there is a lot that has been lost already. I need to find that... Plus, with it all out of the way, I can focus on packing MY stuff.

I have also volunteered all my nights at the Haunted House they are holding at the Rink. The Owner is giving the league $1.50 for every operson who comes through for our help and it's a great opportunity to make quite a bit of cash. Projected Thousands. Until the end of October, I have promised every night it's open except Sunday. Those Tuesdays it isn't? I went and promised to the Food Bank because I just don't feel like I do enough to help others. Bad timing for that.

I fear I have fucked myself with good intentions.

My house is a disaster. The Puppy Butt has been a pain in the butt trying to get my attention lately and I realized today how much he is feeling neglected and how he probably knew I was crumbly before I did and is trying to give and get at the same time. This is the nature of puppies.

I don't even want to talk about boys who, even when I am happy being single, still continue to confuse me. I do know I don't need that right now. I can barely handle it when my cup isn't overlfowing and making a mess on the floor. I probably confuse myself and thats normal for me. I would change that about myself if I could. Among other things. I'm sure I confuse them too. Maybe I'm misinterpreting. Maybe I'm reading too much into things. Maybe I should shut up while I'm ahead.

My business. My dear dream of a business. Moldering in the corner. I need to make sales but can't afford the little bit of money or time to go out and get them. Catch 22. I should stop worrying about it until after the move but then I will have completely missed the Christmas rush. I wanna tell myself to revisit it after the first of the year. But I fear that will be too late...

I need to restore balance. I WILL restore balance. I've got my big girl panties on and I am dealing with it. I'll get through this month and next and I'll be back on top. I know that. Thank goodness, as always, for the many people I do have supporting me. Loudly. Quietly. My landlord is willing to watch Chango while I move. Mandrew, Wifey and PDog have promised thier help moving. Bratty Duke periodically asks how things are going. Bella listens too. I am blessed by the people I have surrounded myself with and I know I am lucky to have them. They are keeping me sane. If I have ever been sane.

Tears every time

There are few songs written or sung that bring tears to my eyes every time I hear them. The Star Spangled Banner. Isreal Kamakoele's version of "Over the Rainbow" (I'm tearing up just thinking of that one)Dolly Pardon's "Coat of Many Colors"

I have never been homeless. I have never starved. But I have been poor with little to nothing in the cabinets and instead of a couch, lawn chairs and pillows on the floor. 

We saw it as a grand adventure, those pillows and lawn chairs, who needs a couch, anyway?

Somehow we made it and I didn't really know just how broke we were until they discussed the poverty line in class. I knew what my mom made, I knew what our rent was. I think there was $5 difference between her salary and the cost to live in that two bedroom apartment slated for demolition when the freeway went through. I loved it there for reasons I will have to go through another time because this is so not about the apartment.

My mom, she worked. And she took some classes. She cleaned house for a friend of hers to supplement her income. We ate a lot of top ramen. I learned to cook chicken and rice. We always had Magic Stars-the generic version of Lucky Charms and powdered donuts. Daddy's child support checks were sporatic. Sometimes, Nana would bring us food. The kind of treats that it felt like other people got to have. Capri Suns and pudding cups. 

When we moved to this place, this new city (And gods, after living in the middle of nowhere, 50,000 people sure did feel like big city) I started a new school and joined the choir.

I loved to sing. Still do when you can convince me to spit out a note. And the choir dress they chose looked like something a Disney Princess would wear. Long, with velvet and taffeta. Puffy sleeves. Princess Neckline and waist. Long. Too long. 

I'm sure I panicked. It's what 15 year olds do. And I'm sure my mom told me we would figure it out. I didn't know anything about hemming. I'm sure i figured that anything that was done would have to be done by me; I've always assumed I would have to do everything for myself by myself. (And I have been proven wrong about that more times than I can count) I'm not even sure we took the sewing machine when we left. I barely knew how to use it though. I got up one morning, to find my dress laid out on a chair hemmed up to the perfect length with the tiniest stitches you ever saw. One of my mother's many talents, apparently. I always forget that part of her story when she made her own clothes because when she was growing up, there wasn't money to buy them. She stayed up late after class, after we all were in bed, and made sure my dress was perfect for me. 

I wore that gown for 3 years. We won choir competitions. We put on concerts. By senior year, the hem was tearing but I just stapled it back up. I grew less girly and stopped wearing high heels under it and started wearing jeans and my knee high boots (my sister hated those boots.) I felt like I was getting away with something. 

When it came time to get rid of my dress, it wasn't the memory of all those concerts, fun times, and  trips to Denny's, it was the work my mom put into it so that I could have something nice and right that made me hesitate. 

But the velvet was crushed from performances in the hot sun. The hem was worn and torn. I knew that I would only be keeping it for the memory and it made more sense to give it away. 

Instead I listen to Dolly sing about her Coat of Many Colors her mama made for her and I think of the gown my Momi fixed for me. And I remember not just how loved I felt upon seeing my dress that morning but also the joy of standing next to my mom watching Dolly sing it live knowing it meant something a little more special, just for me.

Edit: I added the picture, which I knew I had but couldn't find last night. RebTurtle made a comment today that he never knew I was poor. Well of course not. I didn't think of myself that way. And most people don't announce those things their first year at a new school. That first year was the hardest, it got way better after that as my mom got on her feet. Things were still tight but there was always food in the cabinets. I had a lot of time to get used to the other way, even before we left there was very little money. But those are stories for private conversations, not for blogging. 

Trying to put my behind in the past

Much of what went on during the time I dated Hi5 went unreported here because of the trouble it could cause not only between he and I but also between myself and other people who are dear and close to me. It is not a time period I am particularly proud of.


As the weeks have gone by since Hi5 moved, I've put much of it behind me with the strong exception of knowing that I don't want to become the person that I became ever again. My dear Wifey agrees. I want to keep the lessons.


No relationship, no matter how casual or serious should ever make you feel that unhappy. I will take ownership for allowing it.


I was surprised when Hi5 popped up on my instant messenger last week. I had figured that two weeks was long enough not to hear from someone to assume you aren't going to. I wasn't expecting an apology from him for the way he treated me and while I still take responsibility for allowing it, I appreciated and accepted hearing that knows he made a mistake.


I didn't ask about the rumors that still filter in; it seemed unnessesary although I am a bit curious. It doesn't matter though and if they aren't true, then it REALLY doesn't matter and if they are, knowing would only serve to make me feel badly about myself and the situation. During our chat, I didn't see any reason to bring it up. It could only hurt me.

The end of the conversation left me feeling really good about things. I was able to hear that perhaps my reactions were not unfounded and was able to tell him that I am in a really good emotional place as a result of what happened. Still.

Friday night though, Friday night things got weird again.

I was invited to Wifey's birthday party Friday night and I knew that it might be a little strange. I had not hung out with that group since Hi5 and I stared seeing each other. That was one of the things that I didn't discuss here. There had been an argument and I was basically "kicked off the island". I knew that the invite to the party meant that I was back on. It's a fun group, I missed them and I know it makes it easier on my wife when we all get along.

I arrived determined not to let the past get in the way of my present. I was not expecting another apology. I also forgot to expect to see the woman from the camping trip. When she walked through the door, my tummy did a little flip but I still said hello. I have never considered the drama to be her "fault".

The apology was for the initial set up. I appreciated it although I didn't really think it was needed. She said she didn't know he was such a bad guy. She repeated the rumors, and filled me in on a few things that I HAD asked about and was brushed off. Things that did have a ring of truth. Things that substanciated the rumors. There was so much that should have been communicated...

Camping lady came up during this time and told me that she was worried about there being weirdness between us. I was rescued from a continuation of this conversation by someone who needed to know where the guest room was. I patted her arm later. I don't want to discuss it with her. I want to move on.

To me, it's all water under the bridge. I bear no ill thoughts. Having it all brought up again made me feel dirty though. It's going to take some time for that to go away.

I don't want to talk about it anymore. I want it all to be in the past. I don't want to wonder anymore what the truth is, what was hidden, what sordid thing I was involved in without knowing. I want to keep moving forward, I want to keep feeling healthy mentally and emotionally. Whatever the truth is, I can't let it matter to me now. Hi5 has moved to Texas and I still wish him well. I hope he finds happiness there. I don't intend to see him again. Camping Lady will be a part of my world as long as I continue to be friends with her friends.

I don't want to need to talk about it here anymore either. I promised myself that I wouldn't. I don't want to be the girl that holds on far too long anymore. I think I've done a good job at that. Perhaps if things had been happier between us I might have been inclined to hold onto the idea of having him in my life again, but they weren't. And I don't want to still be talking about this in two years. Or two months. Or tomorrow.

I am hoping though, that statistically I am due for a drama free relationship. I know they are never completely drama free, but I'm tired of lies. I have dealt with a lot of them this year. Lies, rumors, drug use. I pray that the men of the greater Reno area have something better to offer.

Until then, I am still happy on my own. It's nice not to wonder when Mr Wonderful is going to wander across my doorstep because I just don't care if he does. I'm not feeling lonely, I'm not feeling needy, I'm feeling GOOD about myself and my life. Still

I get to attend my house inspection today.

Currently

Currently, things are crazy.

I got approval from the bank on my house. Have my deposit check in hand, and have ordered the appraisal. I am starting to pack. Packing is daunting.

I have decided to sell my loom and extra wheel since I don't use the wheel and the loom is a bit beyond my abilities as a weaver right now. I would also like something smaller and more portable for storage and travel.

We had a bout on Sat. I skated well and was pleased to have family and friends there to cheer me on.

I should be packing more than I am but it's also nice to relax a bit.

I now (as of this afternoon) have a closing date.

I have the best damn dog ever

There are other things too on a more personal level but that, on another day. Or maybe later if I get some internet access after work

Confessions

I saw a movie last night that really hit home.

While I am not nearly as exaggerated as the main character and I am very much more open about my issues, in many ways, she could easily have been me.

Hello. My name is Ginamonster, and I am a Shopaholic. 

Anyone that knows me knows that I have places I call hot spots. I try to avoid them. Hot spots are places I can't seem to resist spending money. Not on designer clothes, on stuff. Wal Mart. PetSmart. Joanne's Fabric. Lowes. Places I can't seem to go without spending money. Money I don't have. It isn't that the items call me in from the store windows or that I would risk a job interview or a friendship to shop; but maybe I would if I hadn't realized many years ago that I have a problem.

I think Wal Mart was my first Hot Spot. It was a wonderland of cheap stuff I didn't think I could live without. I would go there, tell myself I could have anything I wanted, and I would. For some reason, money wasn't really an issue, it was space. The space filled up fast. When  I moved from my apartment I found stuff that was still in the bag. Still had tags. Stuff that I had repurchased because I had forgotten I already had it. Stuff, I couldn't for the life of me figure out why I needed in the first place.

I've gotten better. I made up rules. If I can't answer the two questions, I cannot buy whatever item I am craving.

What am I going to use it for?

Where am I going to put it?

I'm also not "allowed" to buy anything I can't carry. I will often pick up a small basket and fill that instead of getting a large one. I will find a way to fill it. It's FUN to fill up the basket. It is NOT fun to carry around a heavy load of whatever. There are exceptions to this. Sometimes, I need more room. Like when I am grocery shopping or I have big things to buy. Which brings me to the OTHER rule.

I can't buy it if I don't know how I am going to get it home. My car is a shopping machine. It can hold a LOT of stuff. But nothing over 6 ft. or Wider than about 4 ft. Which pretty much covers anything that I might want to buy that I can't carry but I still stick to the rule. It's safer that way.

It's hard, when I am in the craft store or at the home supply store. I can ALWAYS think of something to do with that stuff. I need a new plant. I need a new lawn thingy. I need... No I don't. I mean, sometimes I do, but mostly I don't. Heck, I could probably open my own craft store.

Walk away.

Most of the time I can. And I do. As long as I stay away from those places. And control the urge.

I understand that like any addiction, I will always have it. I may be able to decline a drink or say "No" to drugs, but a sale is tough. 

And getting rid of all that crap is tougher. I'm looking forward to packing my belongings because I will have the opportunity to go through everything again. I'm planning a garage sale. And maybe even a craft stash-buster sale. 

I don't really want to take it all with me. Again.

Oy! Still the same. Yet, different!

Things are relatively the same. there's a new plan C so I won't have to strip and a possible plan D so I won't have to go walk 4th st. the bank is asking for my info but I am dragging my feet a little because I don't have everything worked out.

Yet.

It's not like they seem to be in a hurry unless they are asking ME for something.

I am still confident. I am still feeling mellow about the process. Mostly. I told my seester that someone must have drugged my Sprite. I'm usually a mess about these things. Whatever drugs they are using, I wish they would make my back stop hurting.

One step at a time.

Selling my soul?

I have a feeling that the work to get this house will consume a great deal of my energy and ranting until it is final and I move in.

Right now I am considering how I am going to come up with the down payment. The frustrating part is that I have enough credit to cover it without coming near my credit limit, but the bank will not allow me to borrow money to borrow money. I am also aware of the first time buyers credit that would pay off that credit card with plenty left over. Once I am in the house. We are also starting PFP, which means quarterly bonuses for me if our warehouse does well.

what I am saying is that I'll look great financially in about 6 months. grr.

The Cookie Thief offered me a no interest loan for the amount I need. the temptation is there to take him up on his offer. There are a few hiccups in this deal.

First, I don't like to borrow from individuals especially family and friends. I worry that it would cause strain on the relationship. Coworkers is even worse. I fear the shadow it could cast over our heads.

Secondly, The Cookie Thief drives me nuts about 25% of the time. If I were indebted to him, I wouldn't feel free to be cranky at him when he is driving me nuts. Which is really where the whole "selling my soul" thing comes in. I would feel like I had to be nice all the time because of the great kindness he is offering me. I know I should be nice all the time anyway, but sometimes, I just can't because sometimes he's just out to be annoying.

If this is the solution that the universe is offering, I would be a fool to refuse it. Quandries. You know I hate 'em.

An unexpected metaphore

"Grace! Who are you racing?", asked Mandrew as I skated by.

"Myself", I replied. Then I flipped him off. I'm sure he had made some sort of snarkey comment making him deserve the gesture. It's all in good fun though. Mandrew is a friend.

The relay race was over. The other team pulled it in quicker and I am slowed by back pain. I knew as I sprinted that I'd be doing push ups for losing, and I knew I was the only one left since Doll Steak was back with her relay team before I even started.

But for me, the race was still on. It wasn't time to quit. I was the only one on the floor, but you know what? As long as I was still out there, it wasn't over. And there was no reason not to give it what I had (which honestly wasn't much). I could have coasted through, I could have quit as soon as I saw Doll Steak pass me going the other direction. It wouldn't have done me any good to quit without finishing. it would have negated all the hard work of the ladies that skated in front of me.

The point is, that life is really only a race against yourself. As a unique individual, there's NO WAY you can be exactly like someone else. You can learn lessons from them, you can emulate them in the search for similar success, but truly, when it comes down to it, you are alone and responsible for your own success. If you quit before you finish, you are only cheating yourself and anyone who might be looking to you for inspiration. You never know who is watching you

I came in last. I did my push ups. I stood up knowing that I should remember this lesson. I have some interesting times coming up. My offer was accepted and I still haven't quite figured out where the money for down payment will come from. I know I will find it though. The race wasn't over when I looked at my empty savings account. I have money stashed here and there; somehow, it will add up, I know it. I'm at a Bubbly Creations crossroads. I'm not sure where I will find the energy and time to make it happen, but I know I will. There was a moment recently when I thought the race was over, but I am confident that it isn't. I just wasn't giving it my all. Actually, I wasn't giving it anything.

I know Mandrew was teasing me when he asked who I was racing against. And I'm pretty damn sure he didn't expect that it would turn into a motivational speech on the importance of finishing the race. About pushing even when you are the only one running. Whatever. I'll take my inspiration wherever I can get it. Without that comment, I would have just come in last in the relay race.

I don't expect my love affairs to last for long

Hi5 drove out at about 9 am yesterday. I didn't know until he called last night for some company while he drove. I did know he would be leaving yesterday or today. I also had a very strong feeling that Sunday would be the last time I saw him so I wasn't really surprised. I know how stressful it can be to move out of state; the packing, the goodbyes, the last minute stuff.

Despite my hopes that he would end up staying, I really do wish him well. Happiness, success, all of it. We are still in contact; who knows what the future will bring?

Our short relationship threw a lot of things in sharp perspective for me. Although I like Hi5 as a person, I can't help but feel as though the situation brought out some of the worst in me. I in no way blame him for this, as he was being him, and I was being me, and I am quite certain that I have the capability to behave far worse than I did at any given moment during the last 3 months. Time and communication would have fixed much of that, but while we were both working on the comumunication aspect, it seems time was not a gift we had.

There was an unexpected gift though.

I finally realized that I am better off alone.

I'm not being mopey, I am not looking for sympathy, it's a good feeling. When there isn't a man in my life, things get done. I start businesses. I spend time with friends. I create and prosper emotionally. I feel secure in my place and with myself. I don't wait for the phone to ring or the email to ding. I don't wonder when I will have another date or whether that date will get cancelled. I can have a drink (or 5...) without crying in my SoCo. All the things that drive me nuts about myself? Those things don't happen. I mean, there's plenty about me that drives me crazy, but it's different, you know?

When I'm alone, my friends don't have to listen to my latest heartbreak and wonder why I keep trying when it is so blatently obvious why I shouldn't. (I will always try. I will always give it my all. If it doesn't work, it's not because I didn't try. I will not change that) They don't have to see the hurt in my eyes when I am dissapointed. again. (thank goodness for Wifey and her spare hankies!) And they don't have to go through the mopey period which has been known to last for months or, you know, years (ahem).

I'm looking forward to the next however long I am going to be without a man's presence in my life acting as more than a friend. I'm not going to go out looking for one.

I'm not going to give up, I still love men. I would still like to meet one with whom I can spend the next 50 to 70 years of my life.

But for goodness sake. Not at the expense of my already tenuous sanity. The right time, place, situation, won't make me crazy (in a bad way). It won't disrupt my life. I know because I have been in relationships that were easy. C and I quickly became inseperable. T and I never questioned what to do. B and I would talk and giggle for hours. Sure, each had his way of making me crazy, but it wasn't bad. mostly.

Better off alone.

Lets see how long I manage to hang on to this conviction.

CONTEST!!!

Help me rename my soap! Contest details http://bubblycreations.blogspot.com/2009/08/fire-and-contest.html

Free bar of soap to the winner! And more to come!

Did Somebody ask for a Miracle?

I'm picky about the miracles I will ask for. I'm not sure why, as I am pretty sure there is no limit to how many you can ask for or how many you can have. I also believe that every day I wake up alive, whole, well, and able is a miracle.

When I actually ASK for one though, I try to make it count. Like Hannah's health (we were able to raise over $150 for her this weekend! I am not even done with monkeys! YAY!). They are wavering on a diagnosis, but it is looking like ADEM, a condition in the MS spectrum. They started treating for it and she is responding positively. She's still sleeping though and if she doesn't improve more, they will have to send her away. Likely to San Francisco where she can get better care. Or when my Maddy was trying to arrive early, I prayed hard that she and my Seester would both be fine. and they ARE. And I love them.

When Hi5 took off to Dallas, I had a chat with the universe. I asked that the right job come along. I said that I understood if that right job was somewhere else because it's more important for him to support his family than it is for him to be near me. After all, I didn't know, don't know, whether we would actually work together even though I really wanted to find out.

He will be driving out for Chicago Wednesday or Thursday. I understand. I accept. I don't like it, but I do. It hurts, I'm disappointed, but for once, I recognize that there really are bigger forces at work. Do I hope that a better offer comes through in the next two days that will keep him in town? Of course. I am human, it's normal. Do I also understand that there's a reason, even if I don't know what it is, that he is being sent 1500 miles away? Yeah. Whether you are faithful or not, I am comforted by this.

Expect more on this say, Thursday or Friday. I will do my best not to dwell on it much past then. Not here anyway.

In other, less depressing news, I put an offer in on a house yesterday. I'm trying not to get my hopes up. the bank is taking the highest and best offer. I offered $5000 more than the list price and still stayed under my limit. I think it is worth the amount I offered so I am feeling confident. Also, because I offered more that $125,000, I qualified for a program that will contribute 3.5% towards my closing costs. I'm taking the Que Cera attitude. I like the house, it would be awesome to live in a place where I can put the leaf in my table and still walk into the kitchen. (without knocking over the bird cage) And the 2 car garage would be fantastic. But like Pam used to tell us before every pageant. "what is meant for you will not go by you" Those pageants taught me that I don't actually know what is meant for me, so I had to learn to have faith that the right thing would happen for me. If not this one, another.

Updates

No changes for Hannah. Please keep praying. I am 95% complete with 1 monkey. There's enough interest that I will try and make more. Last night, I was sewing in a bar. That's dedication. Or something. One man offered to buy one and even though I had told him why I was making and selling them, offered me half of my asking price. I was offended. It's not like I have raised the prices for these ones. I offered him a smaller, lower priced version instead of punching him in the face. I should have been a diplomat.

I am back on the house hunt. the housing market in my area is such that I can purchase a larger home (TWO CAR GARAGE!!!) for less than what I pay in rent. My realtor is understanding about my needs and is helping me to find something considerably lower than what I can afford in a neighborhood where I can feel secure. AND she has instructions to slap me if I start showing interest in another dump. We all know that I love a challenge and a home improvement project, but this time around I am looking closely at whether or not I can live with the changes that need to be made until I can afford to make them, and whether I can actually afford to DO the things that need to be done.

I looked at one yesterday that has promise. I like the fruit trees, and the grass just needs water. It has a sprinkler system which will help me alot since i don't have one now and tend to forget to water. Or i water for a really long time in one spot. Inside it appears that it needs paint, linoleum in the kitchen, and new cabinets. Or repaired cabinets. there were a few other things too, but those were the big ones. I can live with the missing tiles on the hearth (I think it would be an excellent opportunity to learn some tile work!) and the purple bedroom. the home comes with a two year warranty.

BUT

Yesterday was my first day out looking. And there are a lot of really great houses out there. So although she is going to inquire about the one above, I am not going to decide I HAVE to have it because I might see something better next week. I'm also not sure where I am getting money for down payments, earnest money, and closing costs, but I will cross those bridges when I come to them. I think this is one of those things that maybe you are never completely ready for. That sometimes you just have to jump and pray and trust.

I am waiting patiently for Hi5 to come home tomorrow and yet I am doing my best not to get my hopes up that I will actually see him this weekend. We have been in contact nearly every day since he left (even if only a quick hello on Yahoo Messenger) which has been enough to keep me satisfied about my spot in his world. Mostly, anyway. I dislike a bit, that I have been "waiting patiently" for anyone to return to my general vicinity, but I am interested in seeing where things go next. I'm not a fan of suspense. I don't like to wait and see. But I am learning to do just that. There are many lessons I am larning from this situation and for that, I am greatful.

I look up all day every day to a quote on my board that says, "Everything works out in the end. If it hasn't worked out, it's not the end"

good to know.

diagnosis

Thank you all for your prayers.

I'm pretty sure that they have ruled out MS at this point. She definately has Acute Encephylitis (sp?) Still bad, but from what I have been told, she is improving. I have not visited her because it just upsets her. We are pitching in in other ways though, cleaning her house and doing laundry.

For those of you interested, I am making monkeys. they will be on my site as soon as they are done and I will be giving her family the money to help with hospital fees. No guilt, no pressure. Some of you had mentioned wanting monkeys. They will be up in the next few days. I will let you know when they are, and you can go take a look.

A rare request for you

It didn't hit me until this morning; the situation she's in.

She's a rockstar. Probably our most popular player. She's an incredible skater and athlete. She's my friend.

And she's laying in a hospital bed right now while her amazing body, so young, so strong, rebels against her.

The Doctors told her, when she went in a couple of months ago that she was sensitive to either caffeine or nicotine; to stop smoking and drinking coffee and her symptoms should go away.

As of yesterday she couldn't move or speak. The diagnosis so far isn't good. This morning, she tried to rip out her IV, which is good (She's got spunk!!) but situation is bad. And makes me want to cry.

Please pray for her. Whatever your beliefs, please. Even if you don't believe in a higher power, please send good thoughts. She's the one bootie blocking me with all she's got.

Has it been that long?

Sometime in the last 2 weeks or so I looked at my arm (where my watch would be if i wasn't too lazy and cheap to have a new battery put in one of the lovelies in my jewelry box) and realized that I have lived in Reno/Sparks for 2 years.

For those that are mobile, this is not a great accomplishment. For me, who spent the first 30 years of my life in the same city/county it's something to note. My friends, when I left, said I would be back in a year. It took two to start thinking about it, and I admit that I have.

It's been hard to be away from my family. We make arrangements, but knowing that I can't just pop on over and visit has struck a blow. Add my darling neice to the arrangement and it's as if I have developed a hole in my heart. A giant, achy hole.

These last couple of months have been tough too. There are things I haven't talked about and things about which I have said too much. With all the frustration that swirled around NG (Now to be known here, as he is known at work, as Hi5) and around Derby, I thought seriously about packing up and going back. Then, when I was done feeling sorry for myself, I realized that the issues that I have here I will have there. And what I don't have there is a job and a home.

Things are not how I expected when I moved here. the job that brought me here didn't work out. I've had my heart broken. I haven't bought a house. Poo has moved away. I still don't have a library card.

And yet, I have so much. I love my job. I'm reimmersing myself in my business. I'm shrinking out of my size 8's and not for lack of lucky charms and booze in my diet. roller derby fills a need for friendship and exercize that I have never found before. Puppybutt. I'm going tomorrow with a group of gals to watch Shakespeare. I'm going camping with another group this weekend. (some overlap) I have Autfest and mudwrestling coming up.

Busy busy. And yet, I read two books this week. I can't afford to keep buying them so I'm off to the library for a card. TODAY. Unlike last time I tried to get one, I can prove that I live here! My garden is growing. Not just literally, but figuratively too.

It's a nice feeling, when you finally look up from the grindstone and realize just how happy and utterly full you are. (except for that hole where my family goes...Thankgiving can't possibly come soon enough)

A new chapter

NG and I sat down and talked last night. It was a much needed communication for both of us. 

I had already decided that stories which include him will be of the harmless sort, fun ones that I could tell with him standing in front of me. I will no longer vent my frustrations about him here in public but to him in private if I have any. He doesn't know I have decided this, but I think it's right. He won't come here again. Well, maybe he will, but for now, he would rather not. 

There were apologies on both sides and we seem to have worked things out. There has been more communication between us in the last day than there had been in a month. I feel as though we are moving forward with a clean slate. It's a good feeling. 

I have finished stripping the wallpaper out of my bathroom and will start prepping it for paint tomorrow. I am amazed at the quality of other people's work. so much was covered by the paper. Things that should have been filled and/or sanded. I am determined to finish the job as if I were being paid for it. I think I should work just as hard for myself as I would for someone else. I think this is the first home improvement project I have done just for myself. Wow. It's a good feeling!

I don't know why there was a difference

I woke up this morning feeling more like myself than I have felt in a long time. Well rested, and, sadly, happy.

It's sad because I am generally a happy person. The last several weeks or months or however long it's been have been strange for me. I don't really know what changed, what shifted, but suddenly, I feel a renewed sense of who I am and how I feel about my life.

Maybe it was the good dreams. Maybe it was something else, I don't know, but I woke up this morning and felt for the first time in a long time not like it was just another day in the grind, but happy to be alive and living my life. 

I carried that with me thorough the day. I made plans with Mandrew to meet at the dog park and maybe to go to the Habitat for Humanity store tomorrow to see what they have. He's someone I have in my world with whom I can chat about building stuff and working on our houses. It was nice to hang out and catch up this afternoon at the park. We'd both gotten busy or something over the last few months and I should be more careful of that. He's been a good friend to me. 

NG and I communicated today too and we are going to get together and talk on Friday. That was another weight off my shoulders. I'm excited and nervous and a bit apprehensive. He and I need to talk, and no matter what, talking is a good thing. 

Kristen is coming to town for my birthday! Well, not really my birthday, more for an old friend's wedding, but she will be here for my birthday and that is fantastic. We'll be hanging out with RebTurtle and kicking up our heels like old times. I have promised not to wear holy fishnets to the wedding, (I think the groom would find it funny) and my hair should be completely blonde by then (I'm still a little lavender after the bout last weekend). I wasn't completely excited about it until tonight when we firmed up her flight plans and discussed hotel accommodations. 

As I spoke with her, I worked on a little bit o business. Soapy business. When she asked me what I was doing, I was excited to tell her. I got animated  about the possibilities ahead of me. That was a  wonderful feeling. One I haven't had in awhile either. Glorious. 

Tomorrow is also full of possibility. So good to feel normal again.

A New Week

And thank goodness because last week was pretty shitty overall, ending with Saturday night's vomitechnics.

Sure, there were some really great moments. The wallpaper in my bathroom is about halfway stripped and I am looking forward to finishing that up in the next couple days and getting it painted. The back yard still looks great! compared to what it looked like at this time last week...

I'm still practicing patience but at least the uniform issue is mostly resolved; I don't have to deal with that vendor anymore. I will be happier when the teams have thier shirts and everything out of my hands, but you wouldn't believe the stress I went through trying to get that covered. It's a long story, and I don't want to get into it here, just know that my stress level at this time last week was considerable.

This week feels fresh and new and I'm ready to face it with a positive attitude.

YAY!

New low

I haven't been that drunk in years. Which, according to Randy, should be a good thing but sadly, of late, drinking turns me not into the pile of giggles of yesteryear but rather what can only be described as a hot mess.

I managed to consume my limit. My absolute limit. My under the table limit of 7. I think. Wifey saw it coming. I remember her announcing that she was going to go get her car. I'm not sure at what point I went from happily chatting with Skaten Worshipper to shitty. I think it might have been Mr Bedlam explaining to me why I'm still single. ouch. He wasn't being mean, and it seems to be everyone's favorite game, but it's a sore spot and I'd been drinking. If I hadn't been, I'm sure that the tears wouldn't have been falling as Wifey led me from the bar. She has excellent timing.

I remember someone calling out my name as we left, apparently it was the owner of the bar. I couldn't respond. I was too far gone. I remember Wifey telling me that I may have been a little lonely before, but at least I wasn't like this.  

The truth still stings.

She made sure I got in the door. I collapsed next to the rabbit cage and proceeded to puke all over the carpet and pass out. At some point I rolled over in it. The dogs, thankfully, were off amusing themselves so I didn't have to try and fight them off. Bless them, they are good boys. 

I managed to peel myself up off the floor, shower and go to bed. I'm hoping that my clothes aren't ruined, I like that shirt. I'm still trying to figure out why I put Mr Bedlam's lighter in my bra. 

Hot mess. Emphasis on the mess. I won't be drinking for awhile. 

Chivalry is not dead, just aging

It's been a productive weekend so far. I thought I'd hit Lowes to pick up something to circle in my apricot tree. The soil here is clay and I need something to keep water on the roots and fertilizer too if I ever want it to produce again. Rumor has it, it used to produce the best apricots. I bought everything but...

BUT I got started last night stripping the wallpaper off of my bathroom walls. Cindy, my other mother, sent me a message with a better way (I was spraying it down with water and scraping with a putty knife) and I am hoping her secrets will get the job done quicker. Stripping and painting my bathroom walls has been on my mind for over a year now and I thought rather than sit and wait for the phone to ring, I would get to it. 

This morning I tackled the back yard again. And my neighbor (bless his heart, this is why I only make occasional remarks about him having my ladder and therefore I haven't unwrapped my swamp cooler) popped over to help. He left off his painting and came over, in the heat, to work on my yard with me. He loaned me his pick thingy so I could finish up, admired my squash, sat and chatted a bit. I gave him a bar of soap as a thank you; he had mentioned buying one for his daughter. Thing is, he's always mowing my lawn, and he watered it for me when I was out of town. I've never had a neighbor watch out for me like this. I've had neighbors WATCH me, but never really lend a hand when I didn't know I needed it. It's like having Grandpa next door. I sure do miss my Grandpa. All of them. This one reminds me of the one in AZ.

I filled the mini pool and lounged until I started to burn and I thought, this is what life is all about. I work so I can have these luxuries, but I don't take the time to enjoy them. I'm too busy. I want to change that. No. I am actively changing that. 

Tonight I'm off to Hot August Nights, Downtown Sparks. The Bedlams have a hotel room and have promised to get me drunk. Lets hope the stories are fun and fit for telling. I'm sure they will be. I rarely get out of control, even if that is their goal for me. Whatever. It's going to be fun times. 

Free tickets to the gun show

Today's polo shirt has shorter sleeves than what is usual for me. The guys are used to me coming in covered in bruises. I was proudly showing some off Monday since we had a bout on Saturday. (Arm bruises. they don't get to see the ones on my butt. Of which I currently have none)

Today, I had the following conversation with the Cookie Thief...

CT: What happened to your arm?

Me (looking at my shoulder where he was pointing): Oh, that's my Two. (permenant marker takes awhile to fade)

CT: No Right there

Me: Oh, I'm always that color

CT: No, right there, did you get punched? your arm is all swollen!

Me (laughing): that's my muscles.

CT: But it looks swollen!

Me: Now you know why I don't lift weights.

I'm still laughing.

Shitty, actually.

In my mind, I am not at work but curled up in some dark corner wondering what will happen next and feeling like an asshole for hurting someone. But what is done is done and all I can do is move forward and see what happens next.

I hate being wrong; and I was, reagrdless of my reasons and excuses; and I hate not knowing what happens next.

Somewhere though, this morning, there was a glimmer of wisdom lighting the recesses of my brain. I went looking for one quote and found two.

No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.
Eleanor Roosevelt, 'This Is My Story,' 1937

You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do.
Eleanor Roosevelt

Funny how they were together. And it's not so much that I am feeling inferior, just unabashedly wrong. I can't fix it and I can't heal it and that frustrates me all the more. The person I need to make this right is not available to me right now and my assumptions on what he is thinking and feeling are assumptions. Conjecture being what got me into this mess in the first place. Or, I should say, the public airing of conjecture and frustration being what got me in this mess in the first place.

I have not yet lived through this particular horror. I have no doubt that I will. I also believe that I will be a better person for it. I hope so anyway. I try to learn from my mistakes.

I might be continuing to make this one by continuing to write publically about the fact that a situation occurred, but this is my outlet. My therapy. This is the place I go when I need to get thoughts out of my head. But instead of writing out my frustration about someone else, I am choosing to look at myself.

I must have been due for another long look at who I have become.

A risk I took

I really should know better. But I took the risk ranting and writing out my frustrations and NG, stopped by. 

He's right to be upset. I would be too. And will consider such more throughly when posting in the future.

what happened next

I sent a message Saturday afternoon to make sure NG had not forgotten about the Bout and to see if he was going to make it. This way, if he was not, I wouldn't watch for him. He asked again what time and let me know that he might be a little late.

Then I recieved a message from him informing me that he had a previous engagement that he had forgotten about. That he was sorry, he just isn't good at planning. And please call when I was done.

I replied that it wasn't ok. that it had been important to me that he be there. That I was upset but that I was not going to compete with his family. Thankfully, Wifey had an extra hankie.

Since I am a doormat, I sent him a message letting him know about the after party, what time, and where. He showed. Which made me feel a bit better, though not completely. He's sill on thin ice but knows it.

Tune in for the next installment...

Hi. it's been awhile

Internet at home is spotty at best so I have been avoiding it. Which is great when you consider how much housework and reading and time i have had and how much time I have been spending with my dog.

I have just a couple of things. One may not make sense because I just need to get it out.

Sometimes, I read things on the internet that hurt me. They have nothing to do with me and should make me happy for the persons involved, but instead, they make me cry a little inside. For many many reasons. This is why twitter and blogging can be bad.

Where NG is concerned, things are where they have always been. Except I have expressed a need for them to change. His kids have returned to their home and he still has no time to spend with me. This time because his brother is still in town. The girls say it sounds like he is seeing someone else too and I cannot argue with them. I have begun to wonder myself. Which means it is likely true. I deserve better than that. If he isn't seeing someone else, then I still deserve better than what I am getting. I told him we both needed to make more of an effort; I have been busy too. I started right away. He doesn't seem to be trying yet. But it's only been a couple of days. After 2 months of seeing each other (rarely) I'm thinking I'd rather be completely single than dangling. Waiting. Stressing. I deserve better than that too. Not because I am all-wonderful, but because I am a human being.

I have a bout tomorrow. I mentioned it to him several times and got a non committal response. when a mutual friend mentioned it, he said he didn't see any reason why he wouldn't be able to go.

I'm done if he doesn't show.

Missing? No. Incognito!!

Miss Bratty Duke mentioned today or maybe it was yesterday that I haven't posted in awhile. It isn't because I don't have anything to say.

I posted recently, or at least spilled my guts about all the madness that has been swirling about; threw myself a pity party complete with real tears... When I read the things I wrote, I sounded like an asshole. No amount of editing and spell checking could fix what an asshole I made myself sound which means I was being one. So I packed up my pity party and deleted the post before that crap could get out. 

Know this. Writing all that made me really appreciate all the people that are in my life. Not just the ones I hang out with all the time, but the ones that I DON'T hang out with all the time. Like Miss Bratty Duke. And Randy. And everybody else. It made me realize that I could be a better friend.

Then I had a post all written about Michael Jackson. I may still post that one. Sure, everyone has a post about MJ, but he holds a special place in my life. 

Then, the other day, SHE came to visit. Apparently she works for Sam's Club, and good for her. I always thought that if I ever saw her again that I would punch her in the face. However, when I saw her I only thought she looked a bit familiar until I saw her business card. I am thankful that I didn't have one of mine, in hindsight even though I know she needs it to show where she has been. I realized that better than punching her in the face was not recognizing her. Apparently she wasn't that important to me after all. She makes for good stories though. I passed her card along as I said I would. That doesn't mean I don't hope she never comes back to my building. I don't wish her ill, but I see no reason to pretend to like her.

And that's what it's all about.

Chance of showers

You should be warned before you begin that in writing this post, I will probably be crying. I have not started yet, but I can feel the tears threatening. This is gonna be a hard one. A personal one in many ways as it tells a story that isn't mine, but it really is. 

It began with a sob. I was 17. She doesn't know that I heard. But through the door to my mother's bathroom I could hear her crying. I didn't know why. I still don't. Times were happy for the most part, and although I knew we struggled financially, as far as I knew, we were making it okay. 

But I'm a fixer. A healer. It's what I do. It's part of the reason I have such crappy taste in men, because I want to heal their wounds because I know they are good people and even if it doesn't work out for us, maybe it will for the next girl. That is not the point of this story though. This story is about my mom.

I didn't know what was bothering my mom that day but there was something in her world that I wanted to fix. With singular purpose, I pulled out her phone book, the little white one with the gold writing on the front that had been around forever and I found the address I was looking for. 

Dear Mr Namehasbeenchanged...

And so began a correspondence with a man I had never met. A man who preferred that I call him Rat Fink rather than Mr. Suchandsuch. A man who held a quiet, yet invisible place in our lives. Who had never met my mother yet she had his address.

My Mother's father.

Jack was my Grandmother's first husband. He was her brother's best friend. They had two children. She was 15 maybe 16 when they got married, and 17 when my uncle was born. My mom came along when she was 18 and then the marriage was over. 

Jack was in the military. That's what men did back then, you know, in the early 50's when college was not the only option schools pushed. Most of the details that I know about Jack are encased in letters I pray that I saved. Hand written correspondence that started with the first one I sent, and I'm not sure when they ended.

In that first letter, I berated him for not being a part of our lives. I told him about my family, how he had missed out not only on his children but his grandchildren. Looking back, I was probably pretty harsh. But all I knew was that he had never met his two eldest children.

I learned a lot about Jack from those letters. His time overseas. How he once held the world's record in the javelin throw. The invitation to the Olympics in Rome, turned down if I remember correctly, for his military obligations. 

I learned how when he received the divorce papers, he went, in his grief, to his priest who told him to walk away and forget the family he had started and to start over. He met his "new" wife and began again. They had 4 boys together and were married, well, they never stopped being married. He told me that he never missed a child support payment. And that he regretted taking the advice of the priest.

The summer after I graduated from High School, I arranged a meeting between my mother and her father. We all gathered at an uncle's house oddly close to my mom's older brother, who declined the invite to meet him. I met Jack, and Jan, his wife along with a couple of uncles who's names I have forgotten. After that day, Jack and I continued to correspond for awhile and I learned about his love for Ham Radio which I find similar in spirit to my need for reaching out on the internet. Same concept, different technology. He might also be why I like throwing things... hmm. 

You know how it gets as you get older. Life takes over and you forget who's turn it is to respond. The "I really should drop a note" thought takes over but when you have time, somehow, you have forgotten. 

I wish I hadn't forgotten for so many years because I learned this evening that I can't drop Jack any more notes. We, all of us, learned today that Jack died back in December. Oddly, on Uncle Mike's birthday. I didn't know he was sick. A lame excuse, I know, I knew he wasn't a spring chicken, a comparison I know would have made him smile. But in my mind, just as I have not been aging, neither had he. He was 70 when I met him which makes him what? 75? Or something... Somehow, I lost a lot of years in the shuffle of working and trying to survive. Wrapped up in my own dramas and learning life's lessons. I know he understood. 

I am so glad I wrote that first letter. 

We never really became one big happy extended family. My mom still hardly knows her other 4 brothers and Uncle Mike never was interested in the idea of meeting his father. I never started calling Jack "Grandpa", and he never expected that I should. He will always be Jack. He needs no other title in my mind.

Jack holds a special place in my heart. We spoke the same language, he and I and I will treasure his letters and stories always. Maybe one day Jan will send me my half of the letters. Those would be a great treasure as well. I'm sure he kept them. We're sentimental people like that. 

I wish there was more to say. He believed in Heaven, but I'm sure there is no need for Ham Radio there. Perhaps he is young again, competing in track and field events. Perhaps he is Roller Skating with Uncle Bob, Uncle Bill and Aunt Carla. I like to think that the next time I bout he'll be cheering me on. Roller Derby seems like it would have been his kind of adventure.  I wish I could have shared that with him. 

I guess there are a lot of things I will wish over the years I had shared with him. No use in mourning them now. So instead I will say,

Goodnight, Jack. Sleep well.

An answer

Answers to life's questions rarely are as clear as the time I was going through a hard time and a voice said to me as I lay in bed wondering what would come next in the hell that was my job at the time, "Everything is going to be okay". Call it God, Goddess, or my own mind; it calmed me and comforted me and everything was, and is, okay.

I've looked to that source many times over the last many years and usually I found that I had the answer all along. Or that the original message still applied.  Last night was no different. Sleep was slow in arriving as I tried to calm my mind and heart and listen.

There was no voice.  Thankfully there was sleep.

The first thing I thought of when I woke up this morning was how NG dug through the trash in the fruitless search for my keys despite having an aversion to bacteria and germs with the hope that he might come out the hero of the day.

I'm pretty sure that assholes don't do that.

Confused

I am in a spot. again. It's personal this time. 

This weekend's camping trip was loads of fun and I enjoyed getting to know some people, including NG, better. The only downer was that I have completely lost my keys. All of them. Car keys, house keys, work keys. Everything. Missing. completely. Thank goodness my car was unlocked and that my valet key was in attendance. 

I returned home on cloud nine. 

Then the phone call. The one that pulled me off of cloud nine and back into reality. The one that said that drunkin things happened on Friday night before I arrived on Saturday. 

Tehnically, it's none of my business. None. But I called NG anyway. Because he and I are interested in each other. And there is possibility between us. And drunkin things can cast a shadow over that possibility. 

He assured me that nothing happened. That attempts were made but rebuked and everything was fine and discussed and settled. As far as I know the record has been set strait on his end of the grapevine, and I know it has been set strait on mine. 

The boys at work tell me I should believe him. I want to. I have no reason not to.

But I have no reason to trust him either. And I hate that he has to earn my trust when I would give it to "just a friend" without question. 

But the voice is back, and it's screaming. Last time, I told it to shut up. I ignored my instincts and trusted. I believed. I was wrong. 

Thus we find the fallout from B. I tried to explain to NG that my last relationship ended in lies. I didn't go into detail.  I don't think he wants to hear about the past. I can understand but I also know that it is the building blocks upon which I have created my present.

My present doesn't know what to think. I don't want to run from roadblocks and rumors. I would take a step back and observe, but there is no back, I'm at the beginning. 

The rumor is based on a perception. Perception is so much. And yet is can be nothing. I can't ask the woman involved, she has been embarrassed enough. Goodness knows, I have made drunk advances and been denied; I tend to leave that part out of that story when I tell it. Plus, she and I are not friends. Perhaps we can be. But I met her on Saturday. And Saturday night she had to share a tent with us, with me sleeping between them, ignorant. She kept offering to find another tent to sleep in. I only now realize how awkward it must have been for her. To see us wander off for long walks. To end up sleeping on the same air mattress with me.

Regardless of what is true, it must have been torment. And don't I know how that feels too. All too well. I wouldn't wish that on anyone. 

I have faith though, that the truth will come to the surface. Maybe I will learn to trust NG and discover that my worries were for nothing. They usually are, after all. Maybe she will support his story and I can continue forward happy and merry the way you should when something is new. 

Maybe the universe will remind me again that the mistake I keep making is in not listening to the voice in my head. 

Only time will tell.

Another Saturday night

It's nearly nine and I am pretty much ready for bed. 

Last night's date went nicely, we grabbed some Chinese food and watched Greg London's Icons show. It was... Interesting. He nailed some and not so much some. His Louis Armstrong was on the nail and the backup singers were talented (if not a little too skinny, but they translated well on stage) I laughed out loud, which is rare during a show for me and enjoyed the unhindered antics of my date who was not at all afraid to sing and dance around. The other patrons also had a wonderful time and the people watching opportunities were many. All in all, a great experience. At one point I realized that Greg gets to do what he loves, and that he enjoys his work is obvious. This made the show even better. 

The date ended with a hug on my doorstep. 

I'm not entirely sure why I think that one man will behave any different from any other, but despite a few text messages I haven't heard much from him today. I left the ball in his court; I don't know when I will see him again but I would like to. 

In the meantime, I am doing the usual. At one point today I gave my phone to Wifey so I would stop checking it. I'm keeping myself busy this evening and will likely go to bed early as I am tired despite a two hour nap this afternoon. 

I hate dating.

Happy HNT Red Riding Hood Edition

Some friends of mine were in a Rock Band competition. They won, of course. And I,  have a date with Little Red Riding Hood tomorrow.

Conversations with the dog

Hey! Farty McFarterson. Hey! Quit licking the carpet!

For the record, he did not answer. Also on record, I am not drunk. Or drinking anything stronger than Fresca. Yes I drink Fresca. It's frickin tasty. Even without SoCo in it.

Hilariousness will follow

NG came over for dinner with Wifey and BFIL last night. It was nice to get to know him a bit although I fear I drank too much and talked a bit more than I intended. I look forward to seeing him again (likely Tuesday). Learned a little more about him; he only owns 1 house (which is really enough for anyone. I misunderstood and thought there were two) and will have his kids over the summer. he speaks with them often. He also gives nice hugs.

I forgot to call my dad on his birthday. I am a bad kid. How many years did I complain that he forgot mine?

I found this at Jester's place...

I will be posting it...um...everywhere. Don't get me wrong, I love this song, but the video deserves what it got.