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.