Who is that?

I didn’t realize how negative I have become until I lay in bed last night thinking about someone I don’t like and how I would really like to punch her in the face. I lay there with adrenaline rushing through my body, wide awake and thought about whether it would hurt my hand. And what would happen after. What she would say that would give me the reason. In the span of a couple of seconds, I was ready to go to war.

Don’t get me wrong, I like to get all wound up about stuff. And I have learned that everyone needs a villain in their life (or so we think). Right now, she’s mine. And that’s ok. I don’t have to like her, I don’t HAVE to like anyone. BUT. I do have to act civilized. I expect that of myself. AND I DO have to go to sleep at night. And? It’s unhealthy. Draining my adrenaline on daydreams? Violent ones against another person? Wow. I’m pretty sure, that’s not me. Maybe a part of me, but not the one I want to nurture.

I forced myself to calm down. To think happy thoughts. To roll over, close my eyes, breathe deeply and (snore).

Today I tripped over a new (to me) blog that completely underlined how far away from who I am I have gotten. http//:kindovermatter.blogspot.com

I remembered a girl who used to collect quotes. Who aspired to set up a scholarship program aimed at helping people achieve their dreams. Like the 80 year old grandmother who has always wanted to learn ballet. Or the 10 year old who wants to be a trapeze artist. Little dreams. The ones you think are silly. A little dream of my own to help put a smile on the face of someone else.

I haven’t been completely evil. But I haven’t been as good as I want to be. I need to get back on track.

The ladies over at kindovermatter reminded me of this today. Through their card drop project, I am inspired to make and drop cards. Everywhere. Even in the shoe of that girl I don’t like.

There have been other little things too. Detroit Rock Kitty told us about something called the Nerd Fighters. They are, apparently, made of awesome and support nerdy causes. Like, donating books to poor folks who can’t afford them. And that website where you can loan money to entrepreneurs in developing countries. Why haven’t I done that yet? I heard about it over a week ago (another surfing stumble) am I really so wrapped up in my own world that I can’t spare ten minutes and 25 bux?

Wrapped up in my own world. That’s precisely what I am these days. And some of that? Is ok. I need to be able to work and pay my bills and all that. But there are people I haven’t talked to except through facebook in a long time. And by talk to them I mean that I occasionally comment on their status.

Excepting a little bit of time at the cabin for July 4th, I haven’t spun wool in forever. I haven’t met with my crafty group, I haven’t taken my dog to the park, I haven’t baked cupcakes.

In far too long.

While those things may seem like they are centered with me (and some are) they affect other people or critters too. The crafty group was formed so we could inspire each other. The dog needs to run. My friends get to eat the cupcakes.

Instead I spend my time thinking evil thoughts. I spend energy listening to gossip and other people’s drama.

I bet I would have the time to do the things I love if I used my energy more wisely. I want to start thinking up ways to bring a smile to people’s face instead of a broken to their nose.

Now that is the stuff to imagine to daydream myself to sleep.

Only at my house...

Can the Boyfriend leave a light on in the living room when he leaves at 3:30 am for work, keeping the bird from going back to sleep.

Since the bird thinks it's time to be awake, she starts talking to the dog.

Yhe dog, knowing he is supposed to be asleep, ignores her (actually, he ignores her most of the time) and wanders back up the hall to sleep in my room.

The combination of her chatter and his tonails clicking wakes be up at 4 am where I am too groggy to figure out that Cheese is long gone and the light needs to be turned off.

In short, I am a little tired because the bird kept me up by having a very loud converstation with the dog.

Those hated words

I don’t know which is worse, the fail or the flashback.
Today, I was unable to come through on a deadline for shirts for one of our derby teams. I feel bad, but can’t do anything about the fact that the vendor put a larger order before ours, that’s life and if I had to make a choice between a large order and a less than 20 (shirts, not soap. An order of 20 bars is HUGE for me) I’d push the small order.

That really doesn’t make me feel any better about it, of course.
When I informed the team captain, she sounded understanding, but said her girls would be pissed. Then she said those hated words.
“It is what it is”
Flashback to my relationship with the Cowboy, who described our affair with those words. The description was accurate. You and I both know it lasted longer than it should have, that I should have walked away when he said he wasn’t ready for a relationship instead of hoping for all those months that he would develop feelings for me. I’m not saying I would trade the time we spent together, or that I regret it, but I understand the reality of it now. The reality is exactly as he put it on that last day. I was more into it than he was. It was what it was.
I realized the other day that it’s been two years since that ended. I still think of him often and hope he is well. Like any old wound though, mostly healed but maybe not completely, it still stings at unexpected times. The scar gets itchy, or something catches the last remnants of a lingering scab and makes it bleed again.
Then I started to think about other things. Other frustrations, other issues. Burn out is a problem right now. I would take a little break but don’t want to lose my responsibilities. I don’t want to quit. I remembered after an evening back at the rink how much I love the sport when I am not slipping and sliding and fearing for life and limb against floor outlets and extension cords.
Growing pains I suppose. I miss the simpler times. When uniforms didn’t have to match and I didn’t have to worry if the building was going to run out of TP. When I didn’t think that perhaps Derby had completely taken over my life…

Awed

Ten months ago today I recieved an amazing gift. (coincedentally, it was my birthday) The Loan Shark and Sharkess signed the gift letter showing that they were going to gift me the down payment to my house.

I have been doing my best to send them as much money as I can ever since. Which hasn't been as much as I wanted.

Last week, the IRS sent me my refund check (even though they teased me and told me it would be 6 weeks, it arrived a couple of days later)

About 30 minutes ago, I arranged to pay the balance to the LS family. Then I scheduled a payment that would wipe out my credit card.

I think I have enough to cover the last two bills as well although I may choose to knock out one of them and leave myself a little cushion. i like cushions. I'm expecting to be debt free (again) within 3 months.

I know that in order to remain this way, I am going to have to change some habits. I am already working on those.

Last weekend, when Cheese suggested we hit Costco, I declined. I didn't need anything there and tend to spend. Today, there was a man on craigslist selling a shop full of tools for $700 bux. SUCH a good deal. I have it, I could do it. but i know they would sit in my garage until i get around to cleaning it. progress on that project is SLOW. really slow. And i would incur more debt via interest rates while my shop full of toold gathered dust.

I'm learning. I'm trying to curb my spending habits. permenantly, not just until i get another wild hair to buy something cool.

There is so much cool stuff to have...

Over the mountains and through the woods

Chickie came to visit. It was awesome. I had myself all wound up and excited. I didn't sleep the night before. We drank Ass Kickers and shared an Awful Awful and chatted and then we went to the National Bowling Stadium to watch her husband bowl.

Then the sleepy kicked in. And the tequila because an Ass Kicker is really just a giant, cheap margarita. with cheap tequila.

Go see what Chickie had to say about it here

This is becoming an epidemic when I meet other bloggers. No wonder I am rarely invited to those all blogger meetup things that happen periodically and I can't really afford to attend anyway so what am I complaining about...

Need effective communication

I know this is not the place to talk about it. I know that the right thing to do is to go directly to the source and pound it out of him. But when my indication that something may be wrong is a twitter tweet, I feel a little more justified in thinking it out here. It may not have been directed at me at all. It may have been his way of letting me know that he was upset about something without actually coming to me. I don't generally respond to his twitters unless it's though the website and public so I won't respond to this one.

Not pleased. Noticed something tonight. And not the first time. Either. ???????

Since the only place he had been was at practice with me, I feel ok in guessing that whatever it is he is not pleased about has something to do with me. But as far as I know, I behaved as I always do. Wifey certainly didn't notice anything odd.

If he has a problem, if he wants an explaination, all he has to do is ask. While I haven't told him everything, I also have not lied. I could sneak over to his blog and do a little spying and see if he has posted about whatever it is, but I told him I wouldn't. I haven't. I won't.

I will just have to wait. and wonder. and maybe then just stop worrying about it because there is nothing I can do if he doesn't tell me he has a problem. Not the internet. Me.

It's not easy being Cheesy

I don't think I have ever felt so sorry for any man I have dated than I occasionally feel for Cheese. Not in the way that it sounds. It is not an overall pity I feel, I feel bad that he has to deal with me.

Actually, he doesn't HAVE to deal with me, he chooses to. Most days, things are sun shiney and great. Every so often though, the scary comes out. Some of it I have control over, other, I don't.

I consider myself a decent cook. Or, maybe it's just that if I cook something nasty, I will eat it anyway because I'm the only one complaining. No so anymore. Now, I am feeding someone else sometimes, and I suddely find that everything is overdone (steak) or just plain funky (like the stuffed chicken I made for Valentines day where I realized too late I didn't have bread crumbs so I used graham crackers instead). The nights when dinner comes out fabulous? He was out on the road. Now that he's in town all the time, hopefully he will be able to eat good food instead of scary stuff.

In town all the time. which, sadly, means that I am not in as much of a panic to spend as much time as possible with him before he leaves again. On the nights we do have together, I try to make it a point to give him my mostly undivided attention but when he goes to bed, I don't go with him unless I have to be up early too. Years of living alone and setting my own schedule have made me forget sometimes that those moments right before bed are some of the most important ones of the day. it's the time when you relax together. Chat and giggle and settle in for the night. They are the kind of intimate moments you don't share with anyone but the people closest to you. At least I don't. 

Last night I looked up and realized that Cheese had gone to bed and I didn't remember saying goodnight. I realized that I should go in there and spend a little before sleep time with him. That's where it all went wrong.

It was dark in the bedroom. so I didn't see the dog who likes to sleep in front of the door if I am not in bed yet and next to the bed if i am in it. He's a black dog. Dark room.

I stepped on the dog.

Poor Little Guy gave a yelp. Which frightened me so I screamed too.

which woke up my soundly sleeping boyfriend.

have you ever woken up to the sound of screams? I hope not. I'm lucky we didn't frighten him to death. I can't afford to buy another mattress, I haven't finished paying for the one he was on!

I couldn't help it though. I started giggling once we had it all sorted out. which probably made it worse. Especially since he was too groggy and shocked to realize what was so funny.

I should stop trying to be nice.

I still love you. and want you. and need you.

How do I begin this post except with barely contained tears?

Most days I am ok. Lately it's been more difficult.

There are few people in my life who I have loved as deeply as my Becky.

We never called her Mom. We tried, once, just after they got married. But it didn't fit right. We had always called her Becky. She would always be Becky. OUR Becky.

I know she loves us like her own. And we love her the same. She is ours. And always will be.

I never knew then how much she made sure we had a relationship with our father who, I don't think, ever really knew what to do with two daughters. She did. We played with shrinky dinks. Lee Press on Nails. She washed our hair in the sink. She let us try on her rabbit fur coat.

They were a pair. But everything wasn't as perfect as I thought. I learned that as I got older. And even when their marriage ended, I knew it had nothing to do with us. I know she will always love us.

But she has stayed away. I think it's hard for her. I was looking forward to seeing her at my Seester's wedding, but she was a no show.

I later learned that her boyfriend asked that she not have anything to do with anything related to my father. Daddy, can be poisonous. Although I understand, it still hurts. But I respect it. I make no attempts at contact. I know I could track her down if I tried.

That doesn't mean that I don't still love her. That I wouldn't welcome her back into my life with happy tears and open arms. And right now, I could certainly use her wisdom.

In so many ways, I am walking in her shoes. In more ways I am glad I am not. There are so many questions I would like to ask her but I can't. It's been hard, lately, more so than before, to be without her. I hope she knows that I think of her every day. And that I am greatful for her example. I couldn't have asked for a better teacher.

The problem that shouldn't be

The trouble with social networking is that sometimes, people pop up and you may not want them to.

Like old flames.

The kind that didn't burn so bright.

But might still cause trouble.

If you parted friends, there should be no reason to say no.

Except yours aren't the only feelings you consider anymore.

And you feel like a hippocrite because there are other old flames. The kind that did have a bright burning flame.

So you ignore the request for now. And wonder if it is better to ask permission than beg forgiveness. And wonder why you think you have anything that needs forgiving.

Marriage Rant

You know I don't usually get political but the argument just wasn't logical
I tried to post this on facebook but it was too wordy.


So what you are saying is, that the sole purpose of marriage is for procreation. Does that mean that if you aren't going to procreate then you can't get married? Or say you found out that you can't have children. Does that mean you should get divorced? What if a same-sex couple got a donor and procreated. Then they should be have to get married, right? under the aforementioned logic? Or would the donator and the donatee have to get married? What about people who already have kids and don't want (or are beyond the age of having) more? Are you saying that THEY can't get married? Isn't that opening up the possibility of age discrimination too?
Sorry, Mr Lawyer for the defense, that argument doesn't hold water with me. It's all wet.

Conversations with Cheese

Me: My Crabs are still alive (insert smiley)

Cheese: What?!?!?!?!?!

Me: I thought I lost two

Cheese: Lost two? Crabs? Uh, What?

Me: Hermit crabs. Office pets. I thought you knew about them.

Cheese: Nope!! Got me all scared and lost and... Whew.
talking about appointment then crabs. And losing two. I was like, what? She has crabs and counts them. Weird. LOL. I understand now.

Me: I am SO blogging that conversation

Some background, I came into work today and one crab was not moving and the other didn't appear to be either. it took me all day to get up th ecourage to reach in there because I knew it was going to be gross. Both are large crabs. Since Wally was running around I knew he was fine.

I looked into the top of the tank and Chester was hanging almost all the way out. Still not moving. Spritzing didn't do anything. I picked up his shell, he fell out. I was like, EEW! But looked into the empty shell and there was Chester. He had molted. (YAY) Major is also fine. Phew. I'm still a good crab keeper.

More on the crabby subject: There is a philosphy out there that says that when you die, your pets will be waiting for you and you will cross the Rainbow Bridge together and have eternity to play.

What if you weren't a good pet parent? What if you die and your pets were mad at you? I have this terrible vision of being chased across the bridge by angry hermit crabs. Without the shell because they are SO MUCH creepier that way. I know I would have Chango and Baby to care for me, and many other pets, (That Pixl could do some damamge) but EEK! the Crabs! and the spiders! EEK!

The moral of the story, kids, is be a good pet parent...

The rest was smooth

I was greeted the next day with a hug, which was awesome. Well, a hug and a boob grab, but we can work on boundaries next time. Cheese said he didn't talk to her so she must have seen by the fact that he didn't leave her to go sleep with me that he wanted to spend time with her. I think she needed to see that he wouldn't always leave her at night to go be with me. The rest of the weekend went pretty good. Kidlet was mostly distracted by other kids and when she wasn't, we found things to occupy her. I even had her help package soap a little. She really seemed to like that. I told her that she can help trim when she is 6. That gives her a timeline. And I think by that time she will be old enough to safely handle a potato peeler. 

We talked, Cheese and I, (and it was good) during the time when Kidlet was at the party. It was nice to have a little bit of time alone with him without feeling guilty about having "pawned her off". All in all, I think we just need a balance. And I keep telling myself that it will be easier when he is local because we can get on a schedule. And those moments alone will be less precious because there will be more of them. We are talking about taking camping trips East so that we can spend time with her. Things might get a little off over the next month or so because the Ex has moved in with her parents until the baby comes and that means that any time he is in town she will expect him to have the kidlet. Thank goodness he is almost completely moved out of that house. I am hoping that she will come to understand that he needs a small amount of time to himself before he takes over kid duty. I don't think she does, but I am hoping. If he chooses to spend that time with me, then great, but if not, I understand that after several days of constant company, you need a moment of self time.

Yes, I know she needs it too. And that with kids, you don't get a lot of that. but I also think it's a lot to ask of a person to come in from work and immedietly take over kid duty until it's time to go back to work. Just sayin, that's all.

Yup, this next month should be interesting out here in Bananaland...

I don't know what hurt the most

Watching Cheese's daughter's face go from delight to dislike or hearing her say, "I thought you were my dad's...girlfriend, but you don't like to be called that"

All I could do was look at him and tell him they need to watch what they say around her.

Because I know that in her 4 year old mind what she really hears is, "You don't like my dad". It's not her fault. She doesn't understand things like baggage and taking it slow. And who knows what has been said about me in front of her. That she can't stay over at my house? That her dad wants to be with me instead of spending time with her?

Kids listen. They remember. And because they don't understand context and they don't know that there might be more to the story, they make up their minds about things based on the information they process.

Right now, there's a little girl sleeping a couple of miles away that doesn't like me very much. Knowing that makes me glad she was asleep when I got there. And even more glad that I'm not ok with staying over.

But tomorrow, I will have to take a deep breath and spend time with her knowing that she considers me competition for her dad's attention. I will have to know that even though I don't want to be, I am. And that when he drops her off for the party, she will think she's being left. again.

proceeding with caution.

Wanna see my evil side?

http://reasonsimgoingtohell.blogspot.com/

with my wifey.

sometimes, there might be reasons I'm NOT going to hell. I can't vouch for the wife there.

The other side of the story

I had the opportunity to see the other side of the story yesterday. The verdict?

Both parents need to grow up and learn to communicate. Because SO MUCH drama could be avoided that way.

There's not much I can do here.

She tries to force him to see the kid which makes him bitter, resentful, and stubborn. He needs to step up and be a dad whether he wants to deal with mom or not.

And I? will continue to watch, and listen, and form my own opinions. I already encourage him to put his daughter first. but I can't force him. And I won't try to maipulate him into it because it's not my job to punish him for making choices I don't agree with.

And I can be kind to that little girl.

I don't understand

It's cruel and unusual punishment to castrate serial rapists and child molesters.

But it is ok to force a woman making the difficult desision to have an abortion to look at ultrasound photos of her fetus or, if she turns her head, listen to a detailed description of it. Even in cases of rape and incest.

It breaks my heart to know that these women are being subjected to increased pain and punishment for a decision that will already weigh on them for the rest of thier lives. I know not all of them choose not to look. And the article said that none of them chose differently having seen.

But I still maintain that the choice to have a child should be a choice. And that no one should be punished for choosing not to.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/37393531/ns/health-the_new_york_times

Je Suis

Actually, I pretty much failed French...

I had... I have, so much to say. About exes and attitudes. About learning how much fun you can have with someone just hanging around. About how precious a day or a night has become.

But the attitude, there's nothing I can do about it. Know that in her words, my relationship with Cheese sounds cheap and tawdry. And in her eyes I am selfish for standing up for what I believe in. And he is selfish for not spending half of his one or two days in town every couple of weeks driving to see his daughter. Or for wanting to spend one of those precious two nights with me if she is in town.

It's hard for me, this ugliness, because I was not raised this way. I am learning a lot about what I will and will not give on. And she needs to learn to be logical.

I would like to teach her (with my fist) that she can't have everything that she wants. That the world doesn't work that way. That she can no longer dictate who isn't hers to control. And that I will be nice, but not bullied.

And no, I will not hit her. (today) but I feel in my bones that one day she will push me too far.
I hope I am wrong about that. Never try to out bitch a nice girl. I only look like a doormat.

I am trying to take a deep breath and not waste my anger on someone who doesn't care if I am angry. In her eyes, it doesn't matter how I feel. Otherwise, there wouldn't be quite so many issues. And I am trying to remember that I promised myself that I should try to always be a lady. Which means I won't be typing the rest of what I am thinking.

The little things?

I was at Costco yesterday, noodling about, spending some time before I met up with the Rave guys at the Wreck Center.

As I was leaving the man checking receipts at the door mentioned that he'd been married for 46 years. And has brought home flowers every week for his wife even when she wasn't there.

And I realized that it's not the big things, the vacations and the diamond rings and fancy cars that matter, it's the little day to day things. Like a good morning phone call every day. Or your favorite ice cream in the freezer. Notes in your lunch box or silly messages in the mirror.

The little things that sometimes are hard to notice until they are gone. I've heard on more than one occasion, someone saying, that he or she just doesn't *blank* any more.

Maybe it's because they didn't think you noticed. Maybe you took it for granted. I think that's when things start to go down hill. when you don't feel appreciated anymore.

I know I have been making a little more effort to do those things. Like making sure there is anough leftover cookie dough for Cheese to have some of the cookies I made. Or being available to meet the ravers so that my wife didn't have to.

SO many of those things used to be automatic. But I didn't feel appreciated. and so I stopped. I hope the people in my life know how much I appreciate them.

Two year commitment

I can say, till I'm blue in the face that I do not have a problem with commitment, but we all know that I would be lying outright and that just isn't right. plus, there is no reason.

Frankly, while the idea of a commitment doesn't scare me, the actual thought of telling someone that I am not going to change my mind about them does. I am a fickle bitch. A VERY fickle bitch. I am also the opposite. Once I pick someone out, I want to keep them. Often to my detriment because thus far, the ones I pick are broken. Because I have a broken picker. We've been through this. A lot.

Yesterday I made a triple commitment. It seemed to be the only way to get what I wanted.

1. I committed to The phone company on a new line and subsequently
2. Comitted to my business by getting a dedicated cell phone. I needed a local number so that people would take me seriously.
3. I committed to Cheese. Strange how that all goes together. I don't know which one is the scariest. But here is how it happened...

I decided to add another line to my cell phone account so that I have a Reno number to go along with my Reno address. that way I look more legit.
Apparently you can't have two numbers going to one phone so I started looking at the free phones that would come with my new line. It just got complicated from there. With the input of Cheese, I considered all sorts of new and interesting options. Iphones, Droids, Blackberries... BUT WAIT!! I don't use that stuff. I don't want to add that much money to my budget. And I don't need the internet to eat up more of my time than it already does.
So I picked out a phone that was a little fancier than what i have (will switch out the sim cards later) and moved forward.
BUT WAIT! Can't have a 775 AND a 619 because of the way the Gov'mint split up the AT&T monopoly. which means I would have to switch my number to a 775. And I don't want to. which I might have considered declaring "silly" and something to get over except that the sales guy recommended that I keep that account; I get a really good discount.
In swoops Cheese. If he adds the acount to his account, it will lower his bill. I will have all the things i need and it's highly unlikely that we will use up all the minutes because neither of us uses the phone that much and if I DO start using that line that much, holy crap, it will be awesome.

Now to get the website in order... Kinda wish I could "afford" to skip practice tonight...

What? Two posts in one day?

I'm thinking facebook is probably tired of hearing updates on how filthy my house is.

I had a brilliant idea the other day. Actually, it was sometime last week, but I digress.

You see, the bunny situation, while improved, is still pretty nasty. Oliver, bless him, likes to sit in his litter box. and his lovely silvery fur soaks up all the pee he sits in all the live long day. Totally gross. Compounding this is the fact that I use feline pine litter. Everything else sticks in his fur OR it's extra stinky. The feline pine masks the odor of bunny a little bit longer. But only a little. Cheese finds the whole situation rather nasty. I do too, but Oliver is my critter and therefore I clean up after him. Or try to. Messy little fucker.

Inspiration hit. I, in my infinite wisdom, will use PUPPY PADS to soak up the bunny urine and Oliver will get clean and shiny and I will want to snuggle him and it will all be MUCH easier to clean, right?

Oliver ate the paper. He is now covered in the absorbent and baking soda mix they put in those puppy pad things and I, will be hitting the pet store tomorrow for a new bag of feline pine.

Edit:
Apparently, Yesterday's news now offers a bunny specific option. We shall have to see how that works...

merrily we roll along

In between tormenting the dog with the swiffer and donating stem cells, things have been going pretty good.

I'm enjoying my time with Cheese, and although I still struggle sometimes with my issues, I appreciate him more and more. Which is good. I even refer to him as my boyfriend even though I still trip over the word. stupid labels.

I'm doing my best to get back into the swing of derby. I took nearly a month off from skating due to slight burn out and travel and my ass shows it. It's going to take me at least a month to get back into the condition I was in, and frankly, I think it might take longer since I have been a little lazy at practice. I think I was hurt or something, I can't remember.

Work is going ok. This was an unusually stressful week full of fuck ups and frustrations. But since Monday, each day as gotten better and I keep reminding myself that I just have to adapt and grow and do the best that I can.

Speaking of growing, my dust bunnies are. And they are made out of real bunny so I'd better get back to the swiffer or at least, clean the bunny cage.

Opportunity knocked

Cheese, sometime last week, started a blog. I had explained to him that my blog is a place where I can get the things out of my head that I need to get out. He thought he would try it.

He challenged me to find it. The other night, I asked for a hint and he gave me the key.

I don't know if I have mentioned that he already found this little slice of internet (to steal a phrase from Miss Britt) and I asked him not to read it. The difference is, that I didn't tell him where I was, he went out and found it. As far as I know, he hasn't read a word.

I found his. I started to read. He briefly asked me to stop then gave me the go ahead. It didn't take me long to finish since he deletes almost as fast as he posts.

What I found there nearly ripped me in two.

I found a man in whose shoes I have walked many, many a time. I have worn them. I have waded in them. I have wallowed and slept and been blistered and scarred by them.

Only this time though, this time was different.

The pain described wasn't from someone in his past, it was me.

I've never really had the opportunity to see myself so clearly through someone elses eyes before. To learn how my confusion leads to hurt and confusion. I always thought I hid it better than that. I read his descriptions of me, and how he defended me against his own words. I heard myself in his voice. So many, many times. All of his posts were about me.

And knew that I have treated him, without meaning to, the way every man who has ever hurt me treated me. I heard the echo of insecurity. The whisper of hoping for more. The ghosts of the ones I don't talk about. The memories of the ones that I do.

It has all left me cracked. And dishing out the treatment that broke me.

I was shocked. And hurt. If I were his friend, I would hate me. If I were a stranger, I would tell him to run away and find someone real and strait forward. I would tell him that there are plenty of nice women out there who will treat him better and with whom he can count on their feelings. If I were a friend or a stranger reading his words, I would think of myself as a person who would treat him better. I would think myself better than me.

But now I see myself in a different light. It is stark. Harsh. Cruel to my imperfections and revealing of my dents and dings. I feel stripped naked. Low for hurting the way I have been hurt. Ripped apart and left pulsating on the sidewalk.

I am not angry at him. I am angry with myself. He, apparently shares my affliction of seeing the good in people. Of seeing how he could be treated if only I were whole.

I thought about both options. About where to take it from there. My first thought was to walk away. To set him free to find someone who will treat him right. Better.

Or I could give it more effort. Stick some bondo in my dents and treat him the way I know I can. Offer him the same courtesy he has given me and try. I know I'm not going to change over night, but I could put in some effort. And, like always, if it doesn't work, I can't say that I didn't try.

But above all else, I want to stop hurting him because I only think of myself. And how life is affecting me. I'm not sure when I became so selfish, but it won't hurt me to stop.

Reading his words gave him a whole new dimention. I am intrigued. And that is a good thing.

The next day, he said that he had reread his postings and decided that it would be better if I didn't read the rest. I let him know that he was too late; that I had already read it all. That I wasn't angry. That it was a good thing.

I definately needed that wake up call.

I don't get it

So, apparently, there's this trend about regarding brass knuckles. My friends, they are into it. And I can understand in the case of the Mafia Mollies (one of the teams in the Reno Roller Girls league) being as because you know, they are gangster themed and all, but I don't really get it otherwise.

And that's fine, I'm into many things that most people just don't "get". Like my deep and abiding love of Mr Potato Head. Difference is, I suppose, that Mr Potato Head has never broken anyone's face and it isn't a felony to collect him.

That's not the point. I recently splurged on a button maker. That's right. I can make buttons, bottle openers, mirrors, all sorts of pointless shit people can't seem to live without. I bought the maker so that I could make schwag for my favorite derby league and maybe other people too. You know, because I don't have enough hobbies. I think it will be a good advertising medium for Bubbly Creations too; when I can afford to buy mirror backs.

That is also not the point. I was designing the buttong for said Roller Derby league. I got the Stiff Broads. I got the Bang Bang Betties. I am working on the Mafia Mollies. Their captain said that she would like just their name and a pair of brass knuckles.

I googled.

I found the usual. Nothing sur.. What the fuck? I found brass knuckleswith quartz crystals sprouting out of the top of them. With TEETH embedded in them. As the handles of guns and umbrellas (actually, the umbrella was kind of cool) Boot heels and patterned with Hello Kitty. Candle holders. Cork screws.Purse handles and tattoos. SILICONE IMPLANTS OVER SOME LADY'S CHEST. but worst of all, I think, was this...

If you are picking me out of a lineup, you are too late

Cheese's daughter was in town again this weekend. Since he had been gone for a week, he discussed scheduling with her mom ahead of time so that he could spend time with both of us. Friday night with me, and Saturday night with her. And the days, of course, were hers.

Since I wanted to spend time with Cheese, I also spent time with her and we had a nice time. We ran some errands and watched a couple of movies, and prepared for the Easter BBQ planned at the House of Cheese. Since I was forewarned of her visitation, I did not freak out in the least at spending 2 strait days with a 4 year old and I simply said , "thank you" when she told me (and often) that she loves me. ( EEK!)

I did not stay the night at his house Saturday night even though I was invited because I still think it inappropriate for the Mini One to be seeing us sleeping together and such.

Fast forward to Sunday. The ex has decided to stay another day so Cheese asked her if it would be ok if he spent the night with me. He was very polite about it and definately gave her the option to say "no". She was ok with it which was really cool. He's off again this morning for who knows how long so it was nice to get a little bit of alone time in.

But at some point, when I wasn't hearing she asked. She asked if the MO could go to my house with him.

He explained to her (again) that I am not comfortable with that. He backed me up and said that I didn't want to get too attached too soon in case things don't work out between us. She replied (and with an understandable point) that if this was the case, I shouldn't have met MO at all.

We all know I agree with that, but things sometimes happen that are out of my control (heaven forbid!! lol)

Then she said one of the most horrible things I have ever heard.

She said that the reason she is ok with MO staying at my house is that she has met me and knows she could pick me out of a police lineup.

I am horrified. Not because she is talking about me being in a police lineup but because I am aware of a bone chilling truth.

If you are picking me (or anyone!!) out of a lineup, it's too late. Your kid has already been hurt. There has already been damage done that may have been prevented if you had just made a different choice. Identifying me in a lineup, seeing justice done would not bring back her innocence or worse, her life.

No, I am not a complete stranger. My face is known and (mostly) trusted in the household. And I would NEVER harm that child. never. But I like to pretend I'm one of the good guys. And I can't believe that anyone would consider it safe for their child to be at someone's house just because they can pick them out of a lineup. Because it's not just strangers that pose dangers.

And no. Being bosom buddies and life long friends doesn't make me safe either. and yes, I am safe. And no, it's not like MO would be left alone with me.

It's the thought. The thought that I (or anyone) is safe because I am known. Because I would be recognized...

shudder.

It's looking like real. And scary

Among the million kazillion other things I have going on, there is something new to add to my list of WTF.

I recieved a phone call the other day. It turns out that the recipient I was matched to back in 2003 needs my stem cells now. 7 years later.

I never argue with a Sicilian when death is on the line.

It's all well and good to think, "oh boy! I'll never miss a few stem cells!" Until you start reading through the paperwork and disclaimers. And start thinking about the physical. And the injections.

I fly South on Wednesday to have a physical. It will likely be the most comprehensive one i have ever had. I am scared. I feel healthy, but what if they find out I have cancer? or Herpegonesyphyaides which might be even worse since I'd have to start calling ex partners to tell them to get their asses tested. You never know. It's a scary world out there.

I can perseverate on the what ifs all day, but in the end, I will be on a plane on Monday morning and they likely won't find anything more than a vitamin deficiency since I skate my minerals away and live on cupcakes. I will be back on Monday afternoon.

Then the injections begin. injections that will raise my level of stem cells so they can be sucked out. The warnings on the paperwork are scarier than bungee jumping. It's not going to be as easy or painless as I thought. Headaches and bone pain, swelling and a bleeding spleen. I need my spleen. But... I can live without it if I have to. (dear god don't let me lose my spleen! I still have my tonsils and wisdom teeth for goodness sake!)

I think the scariest part is where I have to fly south again and SIT STILL for 4 to 6 HOURS while they filter those precious cells out again. sit. still. still. I don't sit still. Will I get to use my hands? If I can use my hands I can knit. Or read. I'm pretty sure embroidery is out. Maybe there will be ice cream. Ice cream makes everything better.

Minor discomfort. Somebody's life. I don't really think there is anything to consider, do you?

Been totally intending to post

I have excuses.

No internet at home. I fixed that yesterday but for some reason it's still wonky.

Not much to report. You know I tend to write when I need to get things off my chest and that can often be dangerous for a budding relationship. Cheese knows about the blog and is choosing not to read. He's happy where things are and doesn't want to do anything that might upset that. I am trying to make sure I tell him whatever needs to be told rather than letting him learn accidentally.

Things with Cheese (long story. know that he isn't stinky) are going good. I'm still enjoying his company and he is still treating me very well. Last night, he brought flowers, cooked dinner, and helped me by taking photos of my soap so I can work on re doing the bubbly website.

I often worry that I don't give back nearly what he gives.

This is not to say that everything is perfect. I don't think there is any such thing. I'm still getting used to his daughter who, I would have preferred not to have met yet. But I couldn't very well have told him that kids were invited, except his. It's not a reflection on him, or a reflection on her, I just think it's important to not enter and exit a kids life quickly.

And beyond that, being in a relationship is taking some getting used to. I'm having trouble, as usual, with the words "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" Cheese knows that I have a mental block with them, and he doesn't seem to be hurt that I don't use them. It's taking me a long time to transition from single and living in my own little world to including someone else. concern for a kid will have to take more time. Hearing "It's Daddy's Girlfriend!" when I walked through the door a couple of weeks ago was enough to nearly send me running. spending the whole weekend with a 4 year old had me seriously reconsidering.

When her mother decided that it would be ok for her to stay at my house, I put my foot down.

Too much, too soon. And selfish me says, I don't care if her mom wants to sleep in, so do I, and I work 40+ hours a week. My weekends are mine. There are reasons why i don't have children, sleeping in till 9 on a Saturday and not having to worry about anyone but meself is one of them. When I'm ready to add a kid to the mix, I will do so. And will have plenty for her to do and eat. (she had a slice of cheese while at my house. It was the only kid friendly food I had)

Yes, I know I sound selfish. And I will admit that I am. But at the same time, I made it very clear when I first learned of Cheese's daughter that I don't have a problem with kids, but that I didn't want to meet her until a great deal of time had gone by. A couple of weeks after his and my initial meeting, I met her. A couple of weeks after that, she's got permission to stay at my house. That is hardly taking it slow.

Luckily, Cheese understands and doesn't get upset with me when I say things like, "no she may not meet my family". That I'm just not ready for that. He can meet my family, I don't have issues with that because it's not a big deal for me. My family is me, split into many. But i don't think it's good idea to throw kid into the mix until we've been together long term. Like, many months not one or two. i haven't talked to anyone about it that didn't agree, and thankfully,Cheese is willing to take things as slow as I want to and doesn't try and force the issue.

so time ticks on.

My house is still awesome. I'm still living paycheck to paycheck but once I get off my lazy ass and do my taxes, I will be able to alleviate much of that issue. and I will be able to relieve the stress of knowing that I still owe the Loan Shark although they have been awesome and have never mentioned it. I'm looking forward to planting the garden in the spring, and have started gathering seeds for the rest. My bulbs are coming up nicely and I am hoping that they will bloom while my family is here this weekend. With the support and encouragement of Cheese, I am working on my business again; reading marketing books and investing time into it. It's awesome to have that support. I started rebuilding my website, from scratch last night, using a program on my Mac. I found online shoping carts that I can plug in that might be easier for me to use and update. I hope. Being HTML ignorant and handicapped makes it tough to be in the internet sales business! BUT. I'm not going to let that stand in my way. Anymore.

Quote of the Day...

Dad: Pull up your pants

Son: But your pants sag!

Dad: That's because I'm fat and I have a belly that pushes them down. Now pull up your pants.


I love my coworkers.

continuing...

still getting to know the same boy. I'm enjoying his company and his attention. It's been a really long time since someone was so blatantly interested. In a very flattering way not a creepy way. No mixed signals, no waiting for him to call. Just lots of communication and what I hope is honesty. It feels like honesty. We will see. I have no reason to think otherwise.

Wishy Washy

today I am ok with the idea of continuing to get to know a boy. not biblically.

I'm probably being an asshole about it. In an hour, I might be back to wanting to hole up with my critters and knit. But for the right now, I don't see how it can hurt to hang out with new people regardless of gender.

Sigh

Operation "get over it" seems to be failing miserably. I am considering a total abort not because there aren't nice guys out there, I have been spending time with one, but because this doesn't seem to be the best way to go about things when I just don't seem to be that interested. Maybe it's the person. Maybe it's me. Either way, I don't want to do to anyone what the Cowboy did to me; be in limbo-with-possibility and then one day, after many, many months say, despite our good times and easy conversations, despite my attraction, I'm not into you.

Although I stayed, knowing full well the situation I was in and that it might not turn out the way I wanted, he also waited 8 months to end it. He had to have known all along. I think he tried for all the wrong resons.

I don't want to do that to anyone. It hurt a lot. It still does, just not every day like it did before. I would rather be alone and to pretend to be into someone for any reason.

And soon. There has been no progression beyond a quick hug at my car at the end of a date, which is great(!) because I don't want to jump into anything. I think that lesson finally soaked in. (I hope) But I have a feeling that in another date or two, he's gonna start maybe looking for kisses. and I just don't want to go there.

Simpler times

I miss the simpler times. When "dating" was easy.

When if you liked a boy and he liked you, you sat next to each other on the carpet during story time and that made him your boyfriend. There was no pressure from your friends to hook up, there was no first date anxiety or worry that he might kiss you because kissing was gross. There was no waiting by the phone to see if he would call because he didn't call. You weren't allowed to call anyone but Grandma or maybe the kid next door to come out and play.

And there was no "Let's just be friends" or "Sorry, I'm not into you" conversations because chances were, you'd forget each other existed over the summer or you'd be in different classes the next year.

And, no one asked, ever, why you are still single. Date #2 asked me that via text the other day. I told him it's because I haven't found a man who can put up with my snoring and super long toe nails. He asked how long and how loud...

I realize that this isn't a way to create a lasting relationship, and for goodness sake, it doesn't really work that way for adults, but I really do miss the simplicity of the concept.

Anyone want to bet on how long it takes me to get tired of dating this time? I'm thinking, not very long.

A Record? I really can't remember

Three dates in three days with three different men. YIPES!

I don't want to do that every week.

I've already mentioned date 1. Date two was nice. He's fun. Date 3, maybe there will be a second date, we shall see. He leaves Monday for Vegas on business for 3 months so to me, well, that's a long time. Oh wait, tomorrow is Monday. I don't do long distance.

No, that's not right. Date 1 was on Tuesday. but it still might be a record. I don't think I need to break it.

Now, where did I leave that knitting pattern? I want to finish those slippers.

shaking my head

I really need to quit posting when I am angry or upset or hurting.

or all of the above.

I hyperextended my hands at practice (again. it's been a few years...) tonight. yay.

Dove in.

I went on a date this evening.

Fear prevents me from writing more since I am so easily found.

But I dove in. And the water was warm.

Stellar!

I was catching up on the news on Friday morning when an article caught my eye. It was something about adults with ADHD and how it affects their lives. Even since I took my first internet "DO you have ADD" test, I have recognized the symptoms in myself. When my counselor, so many years ago, asked me if I thought I had it (after talking to me for about 10 seconds...) I told her that the internet says I do, but that I am hesitant to self diagnose.

Many of the symptoms are there though and have been. Reading through my childhood report cards is enough to show a classic case during a time when children were rarely diagnosed with the condition (as opposed to now when they are diagnosed all the time!) "Gina has trouble focusing" "Gina daydreams a lot" "Gina would be a great student if she would stay on task" Even now I have moments when I am focused and moments when I just let myself do things in the order that they happen. I walked into the living room yesterday to discover that I had gotten distracted from my task of winding the vacuum cord. It sat half finished in the middle of the floor.

This is not the point however. The article talked about some of the psychological issues that accompany the syndrome. Feelings of inadequacy, low self esteem, occasional depression.

Just when I was asking myself, "Dude! When did I get to be so damn needy??" there was an answer. I'm not saying that it IS the answer, I'm saying that now, when I'm feeling low or I'm getting all nutty because I haven't heard from my wife in a day (oh my goodness! is she mad at me? what did I do?), I can ask myself if I'm being valid or if I'm chemically funny. And maybe I will be able to need less and be normal. (they say this stuff can worsen with age and hormone fluctuations) I don't want meds, I have learned to deal with my difficulties but it never occurred to me that there may be a valid reason I go wacko every so often. Even if I try to hide it.

Meanwhile, I had a wonderful weekend! I skated a little on Friday night, and was able to reach the goal of 100 laps in 20 minutes on my first try (100 laps in 17.38 and I didn't even push! but I did get tired) I spent the day Saturday cleaning house and then Wifey, BIL, and Toxic came over. We watched movie and ate pizza, drank beer and hot buttered rum, ate cheesy poofs and hostess cupcakes... It was fantastic. Today I puttered about, went shopping (but didn't buy), made breakfast (not in that order) I can't remember when I had such a relaxing time. I am greatful for it.

It was a stellar weekend.

Just keep swimming...

I'm not sure where this week went. I didn't skate much, I know I went to work. I tried to spend some time at home, but here it is, Friday and I don't really remember Monday.

I think it's safe to say that things have been nuts. getting the warehouse ready to skate hasn't taken as much of my time as it has a few others, but I have been trying to pitch in when I can. It's the management part of things that has been wearing me out I think. Trying to come up with solutions that keep everyone happy. I know that's impossible. I feel caught in the middle. I finally snapped yesterday and told another board member that I needed her to stop. Because all of her input was making it that much more difficult and that I had been rendered into "an ineffective smiling asshole".

The visual made me laugh, but when I think of how often in the last week or so my only answer was to smile and bite my tongue, how often someone came to me with a wonderful idea and I had to tell them I can't make that kind of decision on my own, I want to scream. People who don't know me, and who don't know that this is not the way I like to operate. People who do know me and who are probably wondering what crawled up my ass. Why I can't give a strait answer, and what the hell is taking me so long.

Monday night I thought about walking away. handing it all over and letting someone else handle it. Someone who will ask for help and advice and who plays the game better than I do. Or maybe someone who isn't concerned about how everyone else feels and who won't allow anyone to make her feel bad about herself and the decisions she does make.

I think I just need to skate. Hard, long, until I'm worn out and stop having trouble sleeping because there's too much to think about. Till I'm dripping with sweat and bleeding on the rough concrete. It felt so good to roll last night. I didn't get enough of it. It won't make me think less, but it will make me feel better physically.

Maybe tomorrow.

I miss my house too. The puppy butt has spent too much time in his kennel this week. Did I count 17 hours for him in there on Monday? I know I was up for 21. Maybe more. I got to the point where I couldn't count the hours any more and I still couldn't sleep. Sending texts back and forth with a friend until I realized that I had to be up and ready for work in 5 hours and I had to at least pretend to sleep so I could function the next day. Then wishing I hadn't ended the conversation because I was wide awake and at least I was able to snooze a little in between the replies. That friend has been silent ever since. Which isn't strange, but it is. I'm trying not to think about it. Trying not to worry about it. Sadly, that is not in my nature. But I still have to stop it. I can't worry about that anymore.

Manic. I think that's the best way to describe it. But I can be Manic at home as long as I can focus at work.

How the hell do I think I can add dating if I can't even handle what I've got? Maybe trying is a mistake. (here we go again) Not that there's anyone asking, but how do I think I can add another person? Or is it the trying that makes me feel better about being single? Or is it all about breaking the cycle?

c wrote back the other day. his girlfriend moved in and they are happy and cozy and even though that was over a long time ago it still hurt. I can't decide if it's because she's parked where I used to park or if it's because he's managed to move on and find someone special and I keep failing. I'm happy for him. I would never begrudge someone their happiness.

I'm trying, I swear. I try to accept things the way they are. I try to make good choices. When I catch myself stuck on someone who isn't stuck on me, I try to move on. One might say I try too hard, but it's who I am. I try to go with the flow but sometimes, the flow stops and I can either tread water or swim a little. I guess right now I just can't tell if I'm swimming upstream or down.

Worn out

and it's only Monday.

I should really go to bed but I worry that I won't sleep through the night. Derby has me emotionally worn too with politics.

and I just realized that Chango was not in his kennel from 7:30 am to 9:30 pm today. No. He was in there from 4:30 am to 9:30 pm. he's a good boy though. But it solidified my vote on the dogs/no dogs question at the warehouse.

And I think that's all I have for now.

The beat goes on

Ah. A new year. But what has changed? Nothing. Everything. I've been working on a few things.

1. Me. I know that's not new. but there are a few things about which I have needed an attitude adjustment. And I am actively working on that. First step, I've started perusing the personals again. I can't keep wanting to be with someone who doesn't want to be with me. It's a bad habit. One I have wanted to stop for a very long time. This isn't the first time I haven't let go when I should, but I want to let go sooner than I have before. Somehow. I'm not good at this. It hurts. But I know it's healthy. And I am a better friend when I don't let attraction get in the way. And I made myself a promise that I wouldn't be "that" girl anymore after Hi5. You know, the one that is all neurotic and mopey (I hide it well) because people aren't behaving the way I want them to. Like I told Wifey, I deserve better than what I have been accepting as ok. Better than I have been allowing myself to be treated over the last few years. Not because I am anything special, but because I am human. Even though I like to pretend I'm not. And I do have feelings even though I like to pretend I don't. It's been 4 years since I have been in a "real" relationship. 5 since I felt secure in one. That's more than 1/3 of my adult life. I'm not ok with that. And the only way to change it is to get out there and look and go on dates and try. Waiting has never worked. I always end up heartbroken when whomever turns up with someone else. And no one has ever asked me to wait. So that's on me. The last person who told me he wasn't ready to be in a relationship is marrying the girl who became his girlfriend a month later in May. Although I was over him long ago, the situation will always hurt. It's not gonna be an easy wedding to attend.

2. We got a warehouse! Actually, it's an old grocery store. But it's awesome! We've been working day and night to get it ready for skating and such. It's scary. It's awesome. It's gonna be a lot of work. But worth it, I think.

3. I unpacked most of the craft room today! OMG! So many boxes! I still have some totes and a lot of organizing, but I am proud of myself for doing it. I know I will continue to find boxes that need unpacking but I also know that most of it is done and I can get started on the garage. Or maybe let Mandrew do it. He's been bugging me about it for months. LOL. Freak. Bless him for wanting to organize, I can't always do it on my own, I get overwhelmed easily. Most importantly, I'm putting my life physically in order; something I have neglected for awhile. I'm not sure where the motivation went, but I hope it lasts.

4. I signed up for a craft swap today. I haven't done one in a long time. Over a year, I think. Derby and work have pulled all of my extra energy away. I have allowed them to do this and it's time to balance my life. Find time for the other things I love.

Little changes. They feel good. Healing, progress, change. Whatever you want to call it I think it's good. Pray that the momentum continues and I don't get distracted.

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.