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.