And then he said, "I love you"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I could certainly say it more often.

Flew south for the holiday

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

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

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

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

Wisdom from the magic pirate head

I asked the magic pirate head today the following question:

"Will I meet a nice man to date?"

To which he answered,

"No Way, ARRG!"

So of course I had to ask,

"Will I meet a mean man to date"

And he said,

"Aye, Captain!"

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

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

A book

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

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

I delete my posts and remind myself to Need Less.

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

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

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

And yet. That same issue boomerangs back again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Little Miss Popular

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

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

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

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

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

Stupid girl.

Where did November go?

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

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

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

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

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

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

A conspiracy theory

I love my house. But enough about that.

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

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

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

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

Still crazy after all these years...

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

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

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

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

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

The waiting! The horrible, horrible waiting!

tap. tap.

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

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

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

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

Almost. But not quite. But also not his.

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

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

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

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

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

Where it's at

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

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

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

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

You should play World of Warcraft!

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

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

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

I have better things to do

I would rather be creating

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

I'm feeling crumbly

I know better.

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

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

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

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

Roller Derby...

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

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

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

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

I fear I have fucked myself with good intentions.

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

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

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

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

Tears every time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trying to put my behind in the past

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


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


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


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


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

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

Friday night though, Friday night things got weird again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I get to attend my house inspection today.

Currently

Currently, things are crazy.

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

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

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

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

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

I have the best damn dog ever

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

Confessions

I saw a movie last night that really hit home.

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

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

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

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

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

What am I going to use it for?

Where am I going to put it?

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

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

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

Walk away.

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

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

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

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

Oy! Still the same. Yet, different!

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

Yet.

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

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

One step at a time.

Selling my soul?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An unexpected metaphore

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was an unexpected gift though.

I finally realized that I am better off alone.

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

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

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

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

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

Better off alone.

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