whitenoise

2011-11-10T16:57:00.000Z

Holy crap!

Met with the trainer last night.... happy to report I hurt this morning! =oP

We did a full body workout, and I didn't even have to use one of the machines with the generic dude on it. I have been working out everyday since last Tuesday, and I haven't felt like I actually have been working out until last night.

IT

WAS

AWESOME!

She showed me the Free Motion machines which is so much better than generic dude machines. There's no adjusting seat heights or the other various levers to make the ginormous machine fit my 5'3" frame. This means I get to go from one move, seamlessly to the next.

Well, as seamlessly as my "grace" allows. I only almost tipped over a couple of times.

We went through the full body workout twice. On the second time we got to the squats, and she had given me a free weight to hold while I was doing them, as I expressed I really needed to work on my very minimal minimums since I do not want another injury, even ugly runners knee to pop back up again.

I asked what weight she had given me the first time through, and she said "It was a 10lb weight, it was too light wasn't it?"

"Well, it didn't really make it hard." and as soon as I uttered those words I knew I was in trouble.

"Here, do this." She said as she held a 25lb weight over her head as she did the squats.

"ah...ok... I might tip over."

"That's why we'll do it above a bench and you can sit and then go back up if you need to."

It was glorious! Tough but fun!

She looked at me doing the squats this time smirked and said "you know, I haven't known you very long, but it's apparent you like to push yourself... this is going to be fun."

"Yeah, I do. That's how I ended up with the broken foot and 10 month recovery process."

"Well, we're definitely not going to do that again, and if your foot hurts AT ALL you need to promise to let me know immediately and we will work out another way to work the same muscle."

We did a couple more moves.

"Ya know, you have a high pain tolerance but you giggle when you hit your threshold, when it hurts."

"um...that transparent huh?"

"It's just a nice change. Most people complain when I give them exercises to do, and you push yourself, and are open to trying them. It's fun."

"It's AWESOME! I finally feel like I'm working out. Like I'm doing something."

"Well good."

"Ah.... you're gonna make me look like Kara Goucher right?" and at that we both laughed.

I went downstairs to change after the workout, finally feeling a bit like my oldself.... well a lot more of my old self, but re-assured by the thought I can reach my goal of dropping 20lbs of fat and adding some lean muscle by February.

This is good. I'll be running in December, until then, 10 min on elliptical, 20-30 min either biking or swimming after....

Trainers are good.

I actually even enjoyed it, but nothing close to running.....

I did enjoy it enough though to be able to continue to do it even after I've got the ok to run my little heart out.

Life's good. Keep at it, never give up, and when you feel like it, come here and pour your heart out, cuz this is one great spot for support! Thank you all!

I'm gonna look like Kara Goucher ya know..... ;o)

hahahahahahaahahhaha!

the mysterious machines

2011-11-09T21:37:00.000Z

Finally back at the gym.... the physical therapist gave me the go-ahead to do the elliptical for 10 minutes. Not a minute more no matter how good it might feel.

So... for a week I've been going to the gym doing my 10 glorious minutes on the elliptical and then wondering my way over to the ever intimidating weights area.

Sheepishly.

Very very very sheepishly...

I have a water bottle which I use not only for hydration but it gives me a smooth way to check out how to work the weird weight lifting apparatus.

So I casually stroll over and to my relief see that they have signs above each row that lets me know this row of machines will work your arms, this one your shoulders, this your legs...etc.

I start at the first machine in the row... nonchalantly unscrew the top off my water bottle and slowly take a drink all the while, reading the instructions lest I look like an idiot who doesn't know what they're doing.. for some reason I always feel pressure to get out of the way of the muscle peeps who obviously know exactly what they are doing and have no time to wait for you to either use the machine or read how to do it.

Do you know there are machines that don't have any instructions? I mean really... well they do have the warning sign the one that if you don't use the machine correctly you'll injure yourself, and I'm just coming off of an injury so that's like kryptonite and I avoid it at all costs, and walk away wondering if that one machine might hold the key to getting me in shape and now I will try and try in vain all because I've skipped it because it didn't have instructions.

Oh and what's with the generic dude images that are illustrations of how to do the exercise? Would it really hurt to put eyeballs on there so I don't use up all of my water on one machine trying to figure out if the dude is facing forward or backward?

ahem....

My little drinking water trick has worked pretty well except when it comes to the machines where I'm just beyond weak.

You know.. where you put the weight on like 40lbs and you think oh yeah no prob.... lift your arms up get ready to push, and it doesn't move. Not one little millimeter. So you move it to 20, thinking that should do the trick...

And push...

... and it moves... at bit but it's not going any farther..

OK FINE 10lbs....

And.....

I can do 3!

Holy crap. I R Weak.

There are six rows of machines... each night I do 3 rows... then the next the other three...

How come there are different machines that pretty much do the same thing? But yet there are some that once you actually start them you realize it is a tiny bit different, but you feel it a lot differently then the one you just did that was almost exactly like that? I mean why? Why would you put machines in a row, thinking they are maybe two in a row so more than one person can do the exercise at one time, so you skip it, and then one day you actually try it and realize it's different so then you start doing all of the machines in the row, only to realize that no, I was right, there are actually some that are two in a row, and why are there shoulder ones in the arm section that are the same as the ones in the leg section, and shouldn't they follow the signs?

So, I decided to actually bite the bullet and hire a trainer.

Maybe I'll unlock the secrets of the weight lifting area.... don't worry I'll actually share my knowledge.

Doing what I believe is right. Definitely Not Easy

2011-10-19T17:04:00.000Z

I'm not sure how to even start this.

It's funny, the thing I need to write about, that I think people need to know about is proving to be the hardest to write.

Why?

Well, I guess because first of all it was horrifying.

And second of all there are some out there (“friends” of this person) that will say it's an exaggeration, that's their opinion. This is mine. It's the truth. The UGLY truth. And I guess that's why it's so important that people know about it.

Well, here goes... My record of what happened.

One horribly hot weekend crap went down.

You could blame it on the weather.

You could blame it on emotions out of control. Or as I was told "On actors being dramatic, and you know this man is very dramatic."

Hell you could blame it on whatever you want, it doesn't change the facts. Or the illogical violent reaction that manifested that night.

I was talking to someone I had considered a friend once upon a time and disagreeing with his actions. I told him I thought he was treating an employee differently because of his relationship with her, and letting him know this employee had told me she has "his ear, and can get him to do anything she wants." Not raising my voice, but you know, being an adult about it, talking things out.

I was met with physical violence. With him hitting the the wall of our green room and shaking the metal steps that lead up to them so violently they bounced up and down off of the ground. He didn't know it, like most cowards and bullys he thought we were alone.

There were 3 people in the green room, which rocked a bit when he was shaking the steps. They heard him screaming at me and then the first thud.

They were sure that it was my head hitting the wall, "because that's how violent it sounded".

They tried to get outside, but when he was shaking the steps, the door jammed.

What was I doing during all of this?

Well I was trying to walk away as fast as possible. Which isn't very fast since I had an air cast on my foot. I was trying to get into our car.

He was still screaming "Fuck you! Get the fuck away from me, get the fuck out of here!"

Um, hello? You bat shit crazy man, I’m walking AWAY from you as you’re screaming at the top of your lungs throwing a violent tantrum.

"Grow up" was my response.

He was still coming after me fists clenched, screaming.

I walked past some of his friends on the way to the car, and one was screaming "Punch em! Punch em!"

Yep, he keeps great people around. Doesn't seem to matter what's on the inside, as long as you're young and beautiful on the outside. There are people that have worked with him for 19 years that he doesn't know... because they don't fall into his radar... I used to think that was a bunch of crap, until I opened my eyes and really watched things the last 3 years.

So she was screaming to “punch em”... and the "em" she was referring to was me and the man who ultimately stopped this person from getting a hold of me.

As I was walking away and he was continuing to come after me, his friend got in between us. He shoved her aside so hard she fell to the ground. (She has since denied she was actually shoved, even though there was a voice mail saying something to the effect “I wasn’t hit, I was shoved, but I’m fine.”)

She used to be a friend of mine as well. I hold no hard feelings against her. I feel bad of course. I don't understand how you could continue to support someone after witnessing what happened and actually being a casualty of it. But to each their own. Let go and move forward I guess.

It is my belief this person did not stop coming after me of his own free will... he was stopped by someone jumping up on a bench in between this person and I (as my back was still turned heading towards the car) and told him to "Knock it off!"

His friend then grabbed him and started pulling him back and he was still screaming "Get her the fuck out of here" .... at this time one of the people in the green room was out and standing on the steps. He grabbed the stairs and shook them again while the person from the green room was standing on them.

"He looked right through me, and was so focused on you, it was like an animal tracking his prey." the person on the steps told me later.

I reported this incident to the lawyers that work for that company that following Tuesday morning.

I was going to call the police because of the violence he demonstrated. I didn’t, out of some weird sense of “we used to be friends” syndrome.

I fully believe that if he wasn't stopped by a man he wouldn't have stopped until he beat the crap out of me. I had to continue to work 3 more weekends knowing I would see him out there.

It seems like he doesn't think he did anything wrong. He went to dinner that night with more of his "friends".

I went home and called the people involved to make sure they were ok.

It took me awhile to admit to myself that I was afraid, I kept telling myself I was just angry. I knew deep down inside if I admitted fear what would happen. I've been down that road before with an abusive boyfriend.

I finally admitted it that monday evening, and it happened just like I knew it would... uncontrollable shaking, tears, and I jumped at any odd noise. Locking and triple checking things were locked. After all this person knows where I live.

I went to target and I caught myself looking over my shoulder constantly... I realized I was looking out for him.

I can't believe what transpired. He seemed out of control. As of right now he still holds the position he has had the last 7 years there. Even though he sent me a text not 15 minutes after he was threatening me to inform me he had resigned.

I didn't respond to the text, I didn't want anything to do with this person ever again. I still don't. But I thought to myself; Good, that’s exactly what you should do, resign.

We have mutual friends that say "Oh... just sit down and talk it out, it'll all be fine."

Really?

I mean really?

The dude tried to hit me. And if that wasn't his intent you sure as hell fooled me, the three people in the green room, one person across the way in another green room, the two men (whom I wish I knew how to contact) that were standing across the road by the booths who came running to see what all the commotion and screaming was about. His friend felt the need to get in-between us, why would you bother, if you didn’t think there was a physical threat? So yes. it’s my “perception” But you tell me if you would think any differently?

When I left my husband who threatened to hit me all of my friends supported that. Why is this different? I will never be in a room with this man ever again.

My partner in life, didn't want me to involve anyone in this situation because he considers himself friends of this mans wife and he didn’t want her to suffer because of her husbands actions. I told him "You know what? IF you would have done what he did, I would call you on your shit so fast and I would be done with you."

"I would NEVER do that." he said. (He is the most caring person I've met, always thinking of others, and trying to see all sides, and that's just what he was doing at this moment....he is very supportive don't worry)

"I know. That's why I'm with you, but do you see what I mean?"

"Yeah, I just don't want to hurt her."

“Nobody does” I echoed, and felt that familiar feeling grow.

Oh... that.... ugly, messed up guilt feeling.

I felt guilty. I felt guilty that the people that witnessed this and stood up for me might not be offered contracts again.

I felt guilty my partner might not be offered a contract again.

I felt guilty for the fear the people in the trailer must’ve felt when it was rocking and being hit.

I felt guilty for doing what I believe is the right thing.

For voicing what this person had done.

WHAT HE HAD DONE.

There was only one player in this.

One person that needs to own all of that guilt.

Do I think he ever will?

No.

Am I going to use all legal measures available to make sure he doesn't get to do this to anyone else? You bet your ass I am. Not because I don’t like him, or “just because” I’m afraid of him.. it’s bigger than that.

No one should ever feel as frightened, as I did. No one should ever fear bodily harm in their work place. EVER.

I've lost some people in my life because of this event. But all it has done is weeded out true friends from false. I also know that because this person has most of the control to the amount of money that people are paid out there, that there are those who are too afraid to speak out. They want to remain safe in what others have dubbed The Cult of Personality.

I get it.

I am not that person.

So, if I am not asked back, or if this person still holds the position he currently has, I will say goodbye to a chapter in my life, and that will be ok.

I have no regrets for the actions I have taken. The steps I have taken to make sure that this behavior is not accepted, is not ok, and hopefully won't happen to anyone else at his hands EVER.

I also am trying to be a good role model for my daughter who has dealt with bullys at her school.

You stand up for yourself. And for others. Period.

(So I’ve been told that all of this is my perception. That it wasn’t really his intent to cause physical harm to me.)

I ask you this then:

Why then would you shake metal steps violently, punch things, raise your clenched fists, throw a bench? (throwing the bench I did not see, but heard about later) If not to demonstrate, “Hey, see what damage I’m doing to this? Yeah, this could be you.”

Why would two people who were witnesses to this feel the need to get in between him and I?

It seems it was also their perception he was about to cause me physical harm.

I’m not sure what I am going to do at this point. I don’t agree with things the way they are. I don’t believe someone should be able to keep their job after demonstrating violence such as this.

I also am not the kind of person to just quietly disappear. This was wrong. This needs to be dealt with, and not with just a “Mr._______, what you did was wrong, don’t do that again.” (that blank isn't actually well technically a swear word... I guess maybe to me it is now)

I believe he will make life hell for me when/if I am in employment there again.

I guess I say this.

Bring it.

I’ve dealt with cowardly bullys like him before. I will do my job, and I will do it well and professionally just like always. I am not so fragile bullys like him can break me.

Am I afraid he will attempt retribution, or if I run into him while I am alone that he won’t try to threaten or react physically again?

Yes.

Will fear stop me from doing what's right?

No.

Purpose

2011-06-22T00:25:00.001Z

"Cat's should be kicked, put down, big deal, it's a cat." he stated as if it were a fact.

"Excuse me?"

"Cats. I mean really what's their purpose? They have no purpose, it's not like their human."

"Oh. Well in that case, What's your purpose?" I said smugly.

"ah... um... I. I have a purpose..."

Silence.

He starts to laugh as he sees things from a different perspective.

"That's what I thought."

Did I "win"?
Did I get what I was looking for?

Not entirely.
You see, I did want him to see that his logic was based purely in ego. Which he did indeed do.
But I'm always looking for the otherside... what others are seeing that I'm missing.

I secretly was holding my breath.
Waiting.
Hopeing.
Wishing.
Wondering if he was going to reveal this secret of "Purpose".

Nope.
Just as clueless as the rest of us.

I do know though, that when you are doing something in your life day in and day out that does not sit well with you, you are wasting it.

Now, this doesn't (at the present moment) do me much good, since the thing that has me wasting my life is the place I spend the majority of my days... and since I am not independently wealthy I can not "Just" quit. Can anybody really?

I have my answer. I just don't have the equation on how to get there.

Great.
I have always sucked at math.

This could be one hell of a journey out.
But.
I will find it.
I have to.

I have a 7 year old girl who can not be let down one more time.

Going the distance

2011-01-19T15:24:00.000Z

I did it.

I signed up for grandmas marathon June 18th.

Scared?

I'd being lying if I said no. Hell I'd be lying if I said just a little bit.

I've been running for about 2 years now. I started, to improve health. I was told I wouldn't be able to run because of knee issues when I was younger (teenage high school stuff) but I had a roommate 2 years ago, that is even more stubborn than I and she laughed, rolled her eyes and said "You can run. Everyone can run."

So I started.

And it was painful.

But I loved it.

And I hated it.

But I loved it.

I would sometimes dread the run in the first few months, but I always felt better after completing it. Not just physically, but mentally. I found myself in much better moods on the days I ran vs. the days I didn't.

So.... here we are almost 2 years later, and I did it. I signed up for the marathon. The farthest I have gone is a half marathon, and that was just for fun, not a race, just the long runs for fun on the weekend.

I started getting "runners knee" from not doing any sort of crosstraining. I mean, waste my time doing something other than running? ARE YOU SERIOUS?

Yes.

Very serious.

Went to an orthopedic doc (who's amazing) after calling a copule of places explaining what my symptoms were to the nurse on the other end of the line and being told I should definitely come in and get it looked at.

"ok" I would say. "On one condition, the doctor can't tell me to stop running."

The first 3 places I either got a laugh in disbelief or a scoff folowed by "It's probably what the doctor will tell you, there are plenty of other ways to exercise, running is really bad for you."

"Well then, that's not the doctor for me." I said as I hung up the phone.

Stubborn?

Yes. Yes I am.

Long story short. I was a runner, like many others with "no butt." My gluteus minimus was, well, minimal to say the least. I needed to crosstrain in order to keep running.

So, I am. I started "pre-training" for my marathon 3 weeks ago. I'm slow. But what's worse is I'm impatient. And I'm stubborn. Right. We've already covered that.

I'm not so afraid of being able to finish, but I want to do it in 4 hours or less. So I push.

Last night I think I bruised my sesamoids. I'm going to keep blogging about this adventure, mostly to have something to look back on when I'm done, and maybe to sort out some of the things in my head as I go.

Right now, everything I've read says to rest it.

I don't want to.

But I will. For 3-4 days and we'll see what happens.

Did I mention I'm stubborn?

And they come....

2010-10-14T17:32:00.000Z

Sitting at my desk at work.... feeling like hands are around my neck, and I'm suffocating.

YES. I know.

"You should be happy you have a job."

Fuck you I KNOW.

And I think that's what bothers me the most. Why can't I be like everyone else and just put in the hours, get my measly check go home and not have it affect me?

What the hell is wrong with me? Why do I feel like this?

Why is it, I feel like I'm suffocating?

I've worked a lot of jobs in my lifetime... starting at the age of 14. I've done production line work, and swore I would never do that for a living... one of the biggest reasons I went to college. I knew I needed more. I need to feel like I'm doing something that's either making a difference or creating something.

It's like that song... where she talks about having to get the words out on paper because they're threatening the life they belong to. I'm slowly suffocating. I don't want this.

I am looking for a new job, I'm looking for a way out. I just don't see one. And I'm scratching at the coffin lid, screaming in silence that I'm buried here, alive...

What if it never comes? What if I'm stuck in a job that is slowly sucking my life away? How do I change my attitude about it? I do I change the physical feeling of being suffocated or nausea at the thought of being here?

I don't expect work to be fun all of the time. I don't expect to do things that are always things I want to do. But I do expect to not feel like this. I can't. I love to work hard. I love to play hard.

Right now?

Well now, I feel the odd sensation of my heart beating hard in my chest and my throat tightening and tears on my cheeks. I can't find my way out. And I don't know what to do to pass the time.

And before you lecture me.... I know that work is called work for reason, I know that I'm not entitled to anything, I know that in this economy I should be thankful I'm employed at all.... I KNOW IT. And maybe that's why I'm struggling so much... I'm fighting hard to change my attitude, my perspective, I'm fighting to keep fighting... I'm getting tired.

Free Spirits and the Undies Vs. Mean Old Lady

2009-11-05T15:57:00.000Z

Originally posted: Monday, November 12, 2007

Free Spirits and the Undies Vs. Mean Old Lady
Current mood: silly

Cyd, her sistercousin and I had a great afternoon, that actually blended into the evening Sat.

We were just hanging out.. looking for undies and other girlie unmentionables while we were ambushed by the Mean Old Lady... possesor of the Bitchy Old Soul.... Hunter of Laughter and Killer of Free Spirits.

sounds dangerous I know... grab your blankies and read on fearless readers!!!

Cyd was on the phone with a friend, Reese was looking at something else and I was left to my own devices.. (maybe not a good thing) when I found these slipper boots that made me giggle.

I love things that make me giggle by just looking at them (that might explain some of my past dates.. ahem)

Anyway they were these really fuzzy furry slippers that came in pink, hot pink and cream.. and I thought they were hilarious, and wondered how many muppets had to die to make each pair.. so I promptly decided Cyd would have the answer... put them on and hopped over to where she was. (I had to hop because they were hooked together.. that’s for you boys that might not know that much about slipper shopping)

Well as I was hopping I was of course giggling which in turn made Cyd start to giggle, and then she saw the reason for my hopping which made her giggle even more, which of course (yep you guessed it) made me giggle more...and we all know how quiet my laugh is.. NOT

I hopped back to the muppet slipper display and saw that directly behind it was a table of undies. Well they happened to have stars on them the same color as my muppet slippers so I thought it would look really cute together. I put the undies on over my jeans and the muppet slippers and hopped back to Cyd, which produced more laughter.

This laughter alerted Mean Old Lady and sent her on the hunt to kill the source...
She came at us like a heat seeking missle and in her very best condescending voice exlaimed “You cannot do that out here! You need to stop it!”

I looked at her with a straight face and said “ok... I’m sorry”

Promptly took the panties off, while Cyd and I giggled some more, and decided to purchase the panites and muppet boots so we started digging through the pile looking for our sizes. We were bantering back and forth, she was relaying what just happened to us to her friend on the phone, which made us giggle even more at the stupidity of the situation.

Well.. I can only imagine our laughter was piercing the ear drums of Mean Old Lady because once again she made a bee line for us.

“I asked you not to do that out here!”

“Yes, you asked us once and we stopped. Now we are just laughing.” I said aggravated at this point.

“Well, the reason is, is that it stretches out the elastic.”

I looked up at her with the straightest face I could put on and said “Did you just call me FAT?!?!?”

Which of course sent Cyd into peels of laughter, and my straight face directly out the window.

Mean Old Lady tried to regain some control of the situation “I AM NOT finding this as funny as you girls are!”

Straight face back on... “OBVIOUSLY!”

Mean Old Lady recognized her bitchy old soul no match for our free spirits and walked away.

Free Spirits 1 Mean Old Lady 0

Bed 1... Nixie 1

2009-11-05T15:40:00.000Z

Bed 1... Nixie 1
Current mood: dorky

The saga of the elusive bed continues.....

I’m tired of sleeping on an air mattress. I have been sleeping (well not sleeping well) on it since the last week of September. Enough.

I decided after a few attempts to get my bed with others, that enough is enough I’m doing it myself. Well almost by myself.

I talked a co-worker into swinging by the old apt in Big Lake on her way home to help me lift them onto the top of my Elephant. While I was waiting for her I managed to get the box spring on by myself, and drag the mattress to the door ready and waiting.

I had one ratchet tie down thingy, and some rope.

It just happened to be one of the windiest days in a while.. yep, I’ve got GREAT timing.

We tied the mattresses to the elephant the best we could... have I mentioned I don’t do knots very well? I can horse tie, but that’s about it... so I horse tied the mattresses to the top of the elephant, cuz ya never know when you’re going to have to set the mattresses free if they fall down or start to spook for any reason. Whew. Good to know they won’t harm themselves in case that happens, cuz I can quickly set them free since I horse tied them!

Did you know that horse tying doesn’t necessarily keep things tight? I mean I think they loosen up a little... but I digress...

The 3 miles it took me to get to Target to buy more ratchet tie down thingys felt more like 30 miles. I moved my side mirrors to be able watch them fly away...er.. um.. keep and eye on them as they flopped and bounced and slid, but stayed on.

Made it to Targetto, bought 2 more really pretty hunter orange tie down ratchet type thingys and saw that they had those theft deterrent thick plastic tie things on them in the case, and thanked my lucky stars I noticed that before I got out to the elephant with boo and had to drag her back into the store to get a scissors to get them out.

Damn I’m smart.

Got boo to the elephant, got her in, told her it was important for her to stay in her seat while mama tried to secure the mattresses better as I started to take the ratchet tie down thingys out of their expensive packaging I saw two more of those theft deterrent things, swore under my breath as I got boo back out of her car seat and ran into the store (have I mentioned I was supposed to be meeting Gretta for some wings and fun?)

Finally got the ratchet tie down thingys completely out of the case and ran back out to the car and got boo in her car seat and told her it was important.... (yeah you get the picture, there’s a lot of repeating things as a parent.. or maybe it’s just as a Nixie?)

Boo was super amazing, or maybe it was just that it was another one of those times her mama was acting like a crazy person....

You see I have 4 ratchet tie down thingys that I bought almost 3 years ago when I moved... and I never used them, I took them out of the package and couldn’t get them to start ratchet-ing... yeah I know... I r smrt. But after using the one earlier, that was already started.. I saw how they worked and knew I could figure it out.

I started to put one on, threw it over the top of the elephant (not the ratchet end.. so don’t worry I didn’t break my window) and went to the other side to secure that end.. only it wouldn’t reach.

F*@%!

Ok.. back to the other side to make some slack... at which point I pulled on the tie down, it went flying (guess I didn’t secure it very well) and flew back at me, hit the van parked beside me, and somehow I lost the ratchet end that was on my side.

LOST IT.

It wasn’t under my elephant, it wasn’t under the van next to me, or under the car on the other side... it wasn’t in my elephant, it wasn’t ANYWHERE!

Yep... it’s amazing isn’t it?

At this point I’m thinking how in the hell does that happen?

So.. fighting back the frustration and trying not to teach my boo a whole bunch of words she really shouldn’t know... I decide well fuck, at least I have another one... but how the HELL does THAT HAPPEN???!!!

I start again with the other ratchet tie down thingy fighting back the voice in my head thats telling me I’m stranded, that’s it, I can’t do it, I‘m going to wreck my brand new mattress set, and probably kill somebody on the road in the process, and really feeling like a failure, fighting back tears of frustration...and it happens.

I hear “Would you like some help with that?’

“YES!”

So this amazing person, takes her baby to her car (parked next to mine) puts him in the car seat, and takes time to help me.

We got the first one on, and while I was climbing on top of my elephant I found the ratchet part of the other tied down that had tried to escape... HA !! BASTARD! Found you!!!! Thank god I didn’t say that out loud, I probably would’ve frightened off my help...

I thanked my helper, (another single mom) over and over and over, and she said, “Hey, I know what its like, and we can do this” and I knew by the tone in her voice she was talking about more than just my mattresses.

I tightened the shit out of the tie downs, and put two horizontally, and one vertically so I knew logically this mattress set wasn’t going anywhere.. so I should be able to chill right?

Not me. I fretted and watched, and fretted for about 20 miles, stopped got gas checked the situation, and finally trusted that they weren’t going anywhere.

Boo and I cheered when we saw the sign for Edina, and finally made it home.

The end?

Nope....

Cyd and I got the mattress into the house... (we moved it end over end, cuz dammit that’s one heavy mattress with not a handle to be found anywhere... Stupid design..)

Shoved, and pulled, and pushed, and laughed, and squeezed and FINALLY got the mattress upstairs.

Next the easy part...the box spring... much lighter, much easier to handle right?

Yes.

Well... until we got to the part where we shoved, and pulled and pushed, and laughed, and squee.... OH SHIT the box spring does not squeeze. OH... SHIT!!! NO!!!

So.. I slept on my mattress on the floor, defeated, while the box spring sat downstairs in the dining room mocking me.

***cut scene to nixie darkly lit, music building in the back ground and she says with her fist raised high in the air*****

“I swear, as god is my witness I’ll never go hungry again!”

wait.. that’s not it... oh who knows... I haven’t slept well since the last week of september ...

It’s the in the wind

2009-11-05T14:59:00.000Z

Originally posted: Tuesday, October 09, 2007

It’s the in the wind
Current mood: restless

I’m restless.

I feel like I’m in a hurry, yet with no particular destination.

Not a stressed feeling... more like energized, excited.

Looking forward with impatience.

I think it’s the time of year.
I love seeing the changes in the leaves, and even the chill in the air, (yes this freeze baby just said that.)

I don’t like the cold, but there’s something about “crisp” weather that makes me want to move.

I want to ride horse, go shopping for big cozy clothes, drink hot chocolate after playing outside with boo boo till her little cheeks get pink. I want to go to a far away pumpkin patch that takes all day to drive there and search for the perfect one, come home and carve the most goulish face boo will let me on it, and then roast the seeds....

Growing up we never had to go to a pumpkin patch, we just took a trip out to the garden.... I like going to the “patch”. It’s just so much more of an event, and adventure, and it seems with the weather, the harder wind blows, the harder I’m being pushed towards......

.....something........

restless

It reminds me of the movie Chocolat with Johnny Depp... “Once upon a time, there was a quiet little village in the French countryside, whose people believed in Tranquilité - Tranquility. If you lived in this village, you understood what was expected of you. You knew your place in the scheme of things. And if you happened to forget, someone would help remind you. In this village, if you saw something you weren’t supposed to see, you learned to look the other way. If perchance your hopes had been disappointed, you learned never to ask for more. So through good times and bad, famine and feast, the villagers held fast to their traditions. Until, one winter day, a sly wind blew in from the North... ................”

I grew up in a town like that.

I understood what was expected of me.

I knew my place.

and I couldn’t wait to get out

My North wind was graduation and college and a boy and the overwhelming feeling there’s more... and later I found myself in another town, in a different yet similar place with very similar expectations.

and again, I felt trapped

Now?

I don’t feel trapped.

I’m happy, I’m proud of myself and my daughter. Of the struggles that come with being a parent, hell.. of just being an adult. I like who I am, where I live, my friends, being single plus one, of the quality of work I do, of the work I’m capable of, of the acting I get to do, the experiences and lessons life has to offer.

“But still the clever north wind was not satisfied. It spoke to Vianne of towns yet to be visited, friends in need yet to be discovered, battles yet to be fought...

restless

I used to think there was something wrong with me.. that I was never satisfied, that I wasn’t happy with the “normal life” everyone else seemed to be.... but now I really think that if the “wind” didn’t push me forward, I think perhaps I would never become what I am capable of, I would have stopped back in that small town .......

>i/i<

Yep, I must be crazy.

Crazy about life and all that it holds, I want to see it all.........

“Soulmates”

2009-11-04T16:45:00.000Z

Originally posted: Friday, September 21, 2007

“Soulmates”
Current mood: contemplative
Category: Romance and Relationships

I’ve been asked a couple of times now what I meant when I said ...
“I believe in soulmates, but not in the traditional sense”

“Wha?” You say

Well, lemme tell you.

I used to believe in the “one” soulmate that was somehow magically made for you... your other half, your “split apart” your “lobster”

I met my first husband while walking into a bar and grill for happy hour with some girlfriends.

I was walking in, he was walking out.

As as we passed there was something about him that made me want to know more.... it was something that I couldn’t ignore... it was that strong....

And before all of you start thinking or start mumbling to yourselves things like... “Well yeah you thought he was hot, or it had been a while or it was lust etc.”.. let me just say that while I did think he was attractive, it wasn’t that. I had seen plenty o f attractive men but none had evoked this I must meet this person, he/she is supposed to be in my life one way or another, for a couple of minutes or maybe a lifetime, who knows... all I know is I must meet this person

So I got his attention, and we set up a date. We ended up getting married 2 years later.

If you would’ve asked me then I would have told you I met my one and only “soul mate”.

Now?

Well yes, he was someone that was supposed to be in my life, someone I have learned from, but he was not meant to be in my life forever.

I sometimes wonder if I had not believed in that kind of one and only soul mate when I met him... would I have stayed as long as I did in a very volatile, abusive relationship?

I love the idea of a one and only soul mate.

I also love the idea of unicorns.

You see I do believe we have soul mates around us.. those people that you click with automatically before you even strike up a conversation, or the first time you spend time together you are so comfortable around them.. energized and peaceful all at once.

Looking at relationships and friendships what I have come to believe is that I have soul mates in my life that I know will, at least in some capacity, be in my life forever. All of these relationships are friendships. A few men, but mostly women... women seem to want to control me less.

I know it’s my perspective (cuz really what else am I going to base a belief on?) but I have not seen very many “love” relationships that have stood the test of time and are still good relationships. I know of plenty that have fallen apart, plenty that are married and feel trapped or are so miserable to each other it seems they’ve forgotten their real life goal and decided there new one is “I’m gonna force this relationship to last no matter what, I don’t care how miserable she/he makes me or I them DAMMIT! I will not give up!”

I also know of a handful of “love” relationships that have lasted and should last and unless something drastic happens they will last.

The common thing in these relationships?

Love does not tie you to someone, it bonds you to them. It is not necessarily forever. It is a choice to continue to be together as long as you are adding to their life instead of subtracting from it. There is no fear that they will leave you for someone else, or that just because you love them they are somehow now your possession. It almost all of these strong relationships I see a solid mutually respectful friendship, first. A respect for that person that for some reason seems to get lost in a “love” relationship and replaced with a sense of owe-nership.. no that’s not a spelling error.

I mean it in the sense that it seems that once it becomes a “love” relationship there is a sense that if you give your love to someone that other person now somehow owes you something... their love back, their freedom to make choices you don’t agree with, their freedom to be away from you, to spend time with other people, to watch certain tv shows, music choices, to behave the way you want them to, and think like you do.

In “friendships” it doesn’t seem this “owe-nership” exists. You continue to see this person autonomous of yourself, and you respect and like that fact.... I have never had a friendship that has so many restrictive rules, and it seems most “love” relationships come with an abundance of them.

So do Soul mates exist?

Yep... if you allow them to keep their own soul instead of gripping onto it so tightly you choke it....

The images in my head

2009-11-04T16:38:00.002Z

Originally posted: Thursday, September 13, 2007

The images in my head
Current mood: restless

I think I’ve watched too many movies....although right now I can’t think of one that has the scene playing in my head.

I love storms.

I love thunder, the kind that shakes your soul, that cracks so loud that you’re sure something somewhere was just demolished.

I love warm rain, I used to walk for miles in the rain... it was almost as each drop that fell pushed me to walk farther, and the more rains soaked I became the more free I became.

Maybe it has something to do with following the rules. “Don’t go out in the rain, you’ll catch a cold.”

“Oh really? Do something I’m not supposed to? Ok! Let’s test that theory.”

The first drops always felt alien and cold... but as my clothes and hair became saturated I didn’t even notice them falling on me, just around me... like I became part of the rain.

I used to dream of kissing in the rain, passions taking over and making love as the thunder crashed.... bodies wet from not only the rain but sweat.

It’s funny how something that you feel you need to stay away from or out of (the rain) becomes so natural, so much a part of you that when it finally comes time to take off the wet clothes, that’s what feels most alien, and you want nothing more than to jump into more (rain)... a nice hot shower, to soak yourself some more......

He was watching me.

2009-11-04T16:37:00.000Z

Originally posted Tuesday, September 11, 2007

He was watching me.
Current mood: geeky

I walked into the bathroom, and I’m sure now that he was watching me then.

I didn’t know that as I pulled my shirt over my head, and slid my panties down that he was there, waiting.

I turned on the water, and made sure it was just the right temperature, steaming hot.... oh... I like hot showers.

I pulled back the curtain, and stepped into the stream of hot water and sighed as I felt it on my skin.

He was watching me then.

I turned around, and let the water fall on my head, soaking the unruly mass of hair into submission if only for a short while.

His eyes were still on me.

I washed my hair, and every inch of my body.

He watched me.

I dropped the soap.

We were eye to eyes.

I screamed and jump out of the shower wet and naked not quite sure what to do.

The little bastard was there the whole fucking time... watching me.. waiting to attack... if it wasn’t for the natural born clutz I am who know what would have happened?

I grabbed the conditioner bottle and squashed him...once again averting their clever little sneak attacks.

Spiders 0
Nixie somewhere in the 100’s

A 3 hour tour

2009-11-04T16:34:00.000Z

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

A 3 hour tour
Current mood: indescribable
Category: Romance and Relationships

Ummmm......yeah.......

A 3 hour phone call, gone no where.

Belch. Seriously? Yes... why yes yes I am serious!

Why would you stay on a phone call that long?

Well to understand something better.

Do you?

Actually I think I do.

Oh yeah Like what?

That fear is a bitch, and so is selfishness, and using the term “love” to your advantage. That honor is subjective to the person using the term, and apparently freedom to be who you are is not an option if you “love” someone... it means you give up “freedom”.

Is that what you believe?

Fuck no. I think that love is allowing that person to be themselves separate from you, supporting, wanting that person to be free, to live their life to the fullest, helping them do it, pushing them to move past the fear and onto the greatness, watching them grow and being by their side to be their shoulder when they need it, and be at an arms length when they need more room. I think that love means you don’t want to control another person, that you want them to choose their path, whatever that might be, and saying I will always be there, as long as I am adding to your life and taking away from it.I don’t think love means you need to choose it over something else... it’s given, it comes with no ties, but a bond. A bond of trust that no matter what you do, love remains. A bond of trust that leads you to grow and become less selfish and more giving, doing things that make you happy, and wanting to do things to make the other person happy, a fine balance that must be done without hurting or giving up yourself. Love doesn’t not mean completing another person, it means being complete all on your own, and sharing yourself with another, never “needing” that person, but wanting, choosing that person to be in your life, for who they are already and not what they can do for you.

Have you found love?

Yes, yes I have. I’ve found it. First within myself, because without loving myself I have no idea what it would mean to love, and to want to give love. I’ve found it with my boo, my family and my friends.

Yeah, I know... but what about “love”, ya know... the “companion, soul mate, partner” type love?

No. Not yet

Fly High Freebird.....

2009-11-04T16:31:00.000Z

Originally posted: Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Fly High Freebird.....
Current mood: contemplative
Category: Romance and Relationshihps

I’m tired.

And before I splatter my thoughts on this blank white box, I want you all to know I’m good. I’m me, I’m strong, I’m happy....but... I’m tired.

I love being my stubborn self, as independent as I can possibly be. I want to do it myself or at least try before I even think of asking anyone else to do it for me.

Things are different this year. There’s something I’ve never had to face before, and I thought it was going to be a lot easier than it’s turned out to be.

I’m tired of being the strong one.

I just want to lay my head on someone else’s shoulder for a short while, have them stroke my hair from my face and tell me every thing’s going to be all right. Hold me close, always be there for me to count on, knowing they can count on me right back. I want to give myself completely, share everything, and give them room to fly as they do the same for me in return... I want to journey through this life with a partner, and that’s new for me, and maybe the most frustrating part... not so clear.

I still would and am choosing to be single vs. being with someone that isn’t right, or being in love with the idea of being in love... thank god I have that figured out, at least. That’s why I was single for almost 3 years before my last relationship.... but in having that last relationship, I’ve found some new gremlins in the closet, they’re too little to be monsters, but they’re shitty none the less.

I had my moments of being lonely, but generally I enjoyed being by myself, and choosing to be with my friends or my boo vs. spending time “dating”. Most importantly I hadn’t found anyone I that I was willing to sacrifice my time with my boo or friends for.

Once comforting, high school girl giddiness inducing thoughts now only evoke, an ache I wasn’t aware of before.

You see, the relationships I have had in the past were nothing worth trying again for. I mean if that is what a relationship was there was no way in hell I want any part of it. Therefore, nothing really to miss, more of a relief when they were over, and something I had held onto long before I ever was willing to let go. (yep, there’s that stubborn streak).

I’m not sure, if the ending of this last one is the dodging of a bullet, or a flash of bliss that will always be kept just out of reach. Would I have been better off if I had never seen it, still believing something like that never existed? Seeing what I see now..........Did it really exist in the first place?

There are things now I see about him that most likely would’ve ended the relationship eventually anyway. Different paths, life choices, and things I may have seen through those lovely rose colored glasses. I’m not saying he was/is a bad person, on the contrary I have not had that close of a connection with anyone ever before... it’s like planting a seed, watching this amazing flower grow and ripping the plant from the roots, and damnit, now there’s a mess.

There’s a empty place that before was perfectly fine. That didn’t know there was anything else that could be added to it.

I am missing the connection. But am I really missing the person?

I didn’t believe there was someone like him before I met him, (the freedom and the space he gave me, the comfort level between us, the laughter, the ease of the relationship BUT... still only wanting me the way HE wanted me) and I’m betting the way the world works, there’s another someone somewhere down the road that will see me for who I am, and will not like most other men I’ve met before want to put me in a jar on that little display case on their shelf, and only take me down to play with me when they want to. Always trying to keep me in line. ha ha ha ha... yeah I know me "in line"

But what if there isn’t, and now you have that empty place, what now?

I’m a free spirit.

I will not be contained... and until I find someone that can fly with me, I prefer to soar the sky alone.

Smooth Operator

2009-11-04T16:08:00.000Z

Originally posted Friday, August 03, 2007

Smooth Operator
Current mood: giggly

I went to Caribou this morning... it’s a Friday morning ritual... 3 of us take turns in the office... today was my day.

Ok.. only two drinks today, one girl is not coming in I’m so on top of things I think to myself.

“Hi yeah, I’d like a Moosed Iced Chai, and a Northern LIghts cooler also Moosed, both large please.”

The nice young man repeats my order correctly, gives me my total and ends his sentence with the ever familiar “at your first window”

Huh.. there is only ONE window, he must be still half asleep, he should drink some of what he’s selling!

There were a few cars in front of me so I decide I should use my time wisely and made a call to the auto repair shop to try to set up an appointment for my poor little bug.

Yep...I’m doin’ good this morning... effecient!

It’s finally my turn, and I pull up hand the young man my card, he smiles and asks “Do you need a receipt?”

“Nope! I’m good thanks”

Suppressing a laugh and averting his eyes to the side he grabs the cooler and hands it to me.

“I think that’s a cooler, do you want to taste it to make sure?”

Thinking that’s a little odd because I actually ordered a cooler I obliged and said “Yep, that’s a cooler.”

“ahhh ok, I’m sorry” and he reaches for the drink back

“Huh?”

“Well, you ordered a hot drink right?”

“No, I ordered the Cooler and a Iced Chai”

“Oh!, I’m sorry just a second I’ll get that” he replied again, suppressing a laugh.

somebody must have told a good joke in there or is teasing him I think as I wait much more patiently than the stuffy business man behind me seems to be doing.

A couple of minutes later, another nice young man comes to the window bearing my Iced Chai, and hands it to me with cheeks slightly red and trying unsuccessfully to hide his smirk

What in the world is going on in there? Oh well at least they are having fun while they are at work!I think as I drive off.

I get to work drinks in hand, set them down and start to settle in... I reach up to take my sunglasses off, and then it all becomes very very clear.

This is what they were laughing at.

Yep, I’m so “together” this morning I was wearing TWO pairs of sunglasses as I confidently placed my order at Caribou.

“Butt Hole”

2009-11-04T16:01:00.000Z

Originally posted Wednesday, July 18, 2007 (when boo was 3)

“Butt Hole”
Current mood: amused

***In the car after the gym driving home*****

“Mama? Did you put it in my butt hole?”

Sheer shock and wild horrible thoughts running through my head..... where did she even hear that.... who said that..... what happened ......OH MY GOD!!!!!!

***BREATHE***

“What baby? What are you talking about it?”

“That thing, did you put it in my butt hole?”

Ok, this is not going anywhere.... random horrible thoughts still running through my head along with the humor of the situation, I mean really, what three year old talks about a butt hole?... OK FOCUS... figure out what she’s talking about AND THEN laugh hysterically when it’s all about nothing, she’s spent time with people you don’t know when she was with her dad, I’m sure they are great people nothing to worry about, nothing to worry about.... did I mention my horrible imagination?

****BREATHE*****

“Baby, I don’t know what you are asking honey, I don’t understand, can you tell me differently?”

“The number mama..... did you put it in my butt hole or somewhere else?”

“OH!!!!, the number from the gym?”

“Yeah mama, where did you put it?”

“I pinned it to your shirt, and yes I put it through the BUTTON hole” (when I sign in at the gym they give us matching laminated numbers to make sure the right parent goes home with the right kid.)

Laughing hysterically (see you just have to wait for it) and breathing normally again, heart rate coming down, the article or show “Kids say the Darndest Things” pops into my head.....boy do I have a doozy for you guys!

I learned....

2009-11-03T19:20:00.002Z

Originally posted Monday, July 16, 2007

I learned....
Current mood: happy

Last night when I got back from my parents house, I took care of a few things that I’ve been neglecting...

Like what Nixie?

Well, like the mosquito farm I seem to have been growing in the backyard inside boo boo’s pool.

DISGUSTING... all those squirming baby squitos.....I didn’t even want to touch it.

Plus the army of spiders that are in my backyard all around the pool and boo boo’s sandbox!

DAMMIT!

I stood there for awhile looking at the disgusting” farm” trying to figure out how to dump it, too heavy to lift.. I could just stand on the edge and let the water drain... but... um... ewww disgusting squirming baby squitos will then be on my feet and..........

No.

No.

NO!

OOOH! I’ll just put the hose in there and eventually it will siphon itself out..... right?

Hose in pool? CHECK! I should suck on it to get the siphoning started I think.

....For a second until I look at the hose, and picture myself sucking and then getting disgusting squirmy squito babies in my MOUTH and then in my TUMMY and.......!!!

NO!

All right, we’ll just let gravity do it’s work.

Off to attack the growing spider army that’s outside the foundation of the house.

It’s like they are building their forces, to eventually just eat through the house, I mean there are those funnel webs all around the foundation on the landscape rocks. Those little bastards are watching me.. I just know it. and at this thought I shudder.

Grabbed the chemicals off the shelf and started spraying like I was a cowboy in the old westerns my dad watches all of the time. Yes siree, shootin’ from the hip, wishin’ I had two guns. Pulling the trigger so fast my hand would cramp up and then I’d just become a southpaw shooter.

Pow pow pow, and then I’d get one of those little bastards in my sight, shoot it and laugh maniacally... “ha ha ha take that you little fucker!”

At which point I turn to my right and see my daughter watching me, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Mama?”

**giggle**

“Yes, baby?”

“Whatcha doin?”

“Killin’ spiders baby.”

“Why are you laughing mama?”

“Because it makes me happy baby” God, I must look like a crazy woman.

“Ok, get em mama! GET EM!” she shouts jumping around “There’s one... there’s another one!”

I sprayed and sprayed and sprayed, and went back to check the mosquito farm situation.

Nothing. Not moving, not siphoning nadda.

“Ugh!”

“MAMA! MAMA! There’s a spider on my sandbox! GET IT! GET IT!”

“You get it” hoping she would, I really don’t want to pass my arachnophobia to her.

Crap ok, ok.. “Hang on baby”

During the time I was figuring out what to do with the mosquito farm, she had seen 6 more spiders on or in her sand box.

BASTARDS!!! YOU WILL NOT GET MY BOO!!!

I grabbed the spray and sprayed around her sandbox since it the package said it was safe for kids and pets after the spray has dried.

Ok... mosquito farm.

Ew.

I ended up using one of her plastic chairs to squash the side down and let the water drain, until it got to the point where I needed to pick it up and dump it to get the rest out.

I was thinking how smart and resourceful I was because I had managed to empty the pool without getting squirmy wormy squito babies all over me.

I had dump the last couple of gallons out, so I tried to pick it up and over, but lacking in the muscle department I could only get it up half way (minds outta the gutter boys) and then I had to hold it up, walk around to the front and pull it the rest of the way over... all the way... and I felt the cool, slimy squirmy wormy squito baby water run over the top of my feet.

I must have put the hose back together in record time to wash the disgusting farm off my legs and feet.

Finished scrubbing the scum out of the pool and stored it upside down with a chair on it to keep it from blowing away, all the while repeating my mantra... “squito babies are not burrowing into your skin to infest your body, you will not wake up or dream of looking at your legs and see a squirming mass underneath the skin.....squito babies are not burrowing.......”

Anyone want my imagination for a while?

Didn’t think so.

OK... work done, let’s have some fun.

I grabbed the pliers and moved boo boo’s bike seat up cuz she’s grown so much she actually needs a new one, but this wil do for now.

And what did I learn?

I learned that I will spray for spiders inside AND outside on time to stop the army from building.

I learned that I will empty the pool out each time boo boo uses it, instead of thinking we’ll be right back in it tomorrow, the water won’t be warm enough if I dump it each time, must keep boo from hypothermia.... but squirmy wormy squito babies are a bigger threat

And most importantly and at least more intriguing?

I learned that my tongue is somehow involved in the process of using a pliers. I can not seem to turn a nut without sticking my tongue out and in the direction it’s turning.. I even tried not to.

Learning: to gain (a habit, mannerism, etc.) by experience, exposure to example, or the like; a

2009-11-03T15:25:00.000Z

Originally posted Thursday, June 28, 2007

Current mood: cheerful
Category: Life

I was asked to tell something about learning to be a mommy....

I didn’t have the “natural instincts” I never really wanted to have a baby, or at least I wasn’t sure if I did. I was an extremely great auntie and was satisfied with that. I always told my sisters that I wanted to be that eccentric aunt, the one that traveled all over the world and brought the kids back unique things from other cultures, one that they could laugh with, tell anything to, and always, always look forward to seeing, because they knew there would be exciting tales to be told.

Learning to be a mom.... well I think I kinda lost myself for awhile because I didn’t really know what being a “mom” meant.

Growing up I watched my mother and she didn’t have another life outside of being a mom and a housewife and in an unhappy marriage. Cleaning, cooking, doing work on the farm. She didn’t enjoy us, I don’t remember her playing with us, she was too busy, there was too much that needed to be done. I rarely remember her smiling, she wasn’t happy. That was her life. I didn’t want to become that.

I only had that one idea of what being a mom was, and maybe because of that idea I felt like after having boo I no longer existed. That I was secondary to boo, I could no longer do stuff I wanted to do, only things that I “had” to do.

“Mom” and “Linda” were like oil and water.

I fought hard against it. I hated it the first couple of months. I was alone. I found no joy in this tiny human being that was in my care. I found hard work and sleepless nights, days without showers because I when I put her down she would cry or want to nurse. When she cried it made me feel like a failure, I would look in the mirror at this “mom” I had become and I hated the way she looked. Postpartum marshmallow belly, unkempt hair, bags so large under my eyes I could’ve parked my volkswagen in them. I seemed to have aged 10 years in a couple of weeks.

My days and nights consisted of changing her, feeding her, burping her, there was no difference between them except for the sun and moon.

Maybe I had a harder time adjusting to it because of loosing so much blood after I delivered her, I was in the hospital for five days and then told I shouldn’t do much for two weeks to make sure I didn’t start bleeding again. I was so weak, and maybe the weakness of my body weakened my mind.

I didn’t feel confident in this new life. The thought of taking her out to the store to get what we needed scared me, I wasn’t sure exactly what I was afraid of, I just was. I was used to running into the store quick grabbing what I needed.

Now?

Well now I had this tiny person in tow.

Big deal?

It was to me.

Every time I put her in her car seat she cried. You wouldn’t believe the stares and judgements you get from people in public. The comments “If I wanted to hear a screaming baby, I be baby sitting.”

Really? Oh well then... I’ll stop pinching her right now so she’ll be quiet.

Shopping with a cart was a whole new experience to me, much less shopping with a cart and a baby. Pushing the cart down the aisles, baby crying, and then... then you notice the smell and the brown stain appearing on the side of her leg.

Great.

I start heading to the bathroom to change her and I get stopped by a clerk who says I can not take my cart into the bathroom, it’s a fire hazard.

I have to take boo out of the cart (still in the car seat) and dig out my diaper bag from the bottom of the cart underneath all of my items. Go into change her, realize I don’t have another outfit for her and this one has poop all over it.

Wait....I have one in the cart!

Put a diaper back on her put her back in the car seat, to go out and get the outfit out of the cart and decide to just pay for it later. (It used to bother me, the people that would open a bag of chips or put on new shoes and pay for them later)

I emerge from the bathroom, diaper bag over shoulder packed with extra everything except the badly needed outfit, baby in car seat carrier in the other hand crying again of course because she’s back in the car seat.

No cart.

Where the f@#% did the cart go?

I went up to a cashier and asked her if she knew where the cart that was sitting outside of the bathroom went.

Thoroughly annoyed snapping her bubble gum she says “How am I supposed to know? I’m working here.”

“My stuff, all the stuff, I was just about done, he said I couldn’t take it into the bathroom with me, I had to change her....”

“Like, I don’t know, ok? It probably got put back to be re-stocked, ya know, like a deserted cart?”

“But I just had to change her”

“Um. well... you can have another cart.”

And that little exchange, that little bump in the road was enough to make me cry right along with boo crying in her car seat.

I grabbed another cart, tears streaming down my face and started over.

I learned to cram even more things in a diaper bag after that. I also learned that if I was shopping and the cart was full and I was almost done shopping, she could wait to be changed, a little poop on the butt has never killed anyone.

Ahhh if I only knew then what I know now.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

2009-11-03T15:18:00.002Z

Originally posted Thursday, June 21, 2007

“I’m not afraid of you.”
Current mood: accomplished

These are the words I taught my daughter to say when something scared her, pretty much as soon as she was able to speak.

She would stand square, teetering just a little at the tender age of 18 months and point her tiny little finger at whatever she thought was scary, and in the biggest most authoritative voice she could make she would say “I nod fraid you!”

I wanted to teach her right away that she didn’t need rescuing. From anything. That whatever life threw at her she could stand her ground and make it through.

She also new that if it was too big to handle and she tried but couldn’t quite make it, I would be there to help her, but only if she tried on her own first.

I don’t want to pass on to her the thought that she isn’t capable. That she needs someone in her life to do certain things.

Too many times we’re told by someone that we can’t do something for any number of reasons they can think of, too many times we are shown that this is a “man’s” job or this is a “woman’s”. Yes, I believe it is easier for a man to lift heavy objects than it is a woman, but we don’t have to rely just upon our muscle.

Problem solve. Look at the situation differently. Can’t pick something up? Well then how about putting something under it to roll it, or slide it? I have almost always been able to move things somehow or another on my own if I really needed to. Even the heaviest of objects.

Spiders? My phobia... I deal.
And the more I deal the weaker fear gets. (or at least that’s what I keep telling myself....) :-p

I remember in high school I signed up for shop class instead of home economics because they were going to be teaching sewing. I already knew how to sew, at least the basics. I didn’t know how to change my oil in my car.

I talked to the shop teacher and he promised that that was one thing he would be covering, so I signed up.

We ended up taking apart and putting back together a Briggs and Straton lawn mower engine.

I was the first one to do it, and I did it correctly.

Never did learn how to change my oil in my own car.

I don’t know why I didn’t keep pressing to learn, but I stopped, and now I just pay someone else to do it, which works too I guess.

I don’t want to stop pressing forward for things I need or want to learn or do in my life.

Sometimes it seems as if I have, and the reason is because of fear.
Fear of failure, fear of being ridiculed, fear of losing what I’ve already worked hard to attain.

A situation or roadblock came up yesterday in something I’m trying to achieve, and instead of saying “Well, that’s it, I knew I didn’t have what they were looking for, I can’t do it differently” and giving in, I decided to push myself and look at it differently, try to move what needed moving a different way.

I took a chance, and today, well it paid off, I’m still moving forward, still mumbling my mantra

“I nod fraid you!”

It’s the night that looms large, threatening to swallow me whole

2009-11-03T15:12:00.002Z

Originally posted Wednesday, June 13, 2007

It’s the night that looms large, threatening to swallow me whole
Current mood: exhausted

I think some of the hardest moments of being a single mom, are night times.

The nights where bedtimes are a struggle, and there’s nothing you can do, but wait it out.

Sitting in the dark, listening to your child cry evokes certain emotions no one wants.

I dont’ know which ones come first actually, but they are heartache, frustration, anger, fear, resentment, and sometimes emptiness.

Heartache I’m pretty sure most of you get. No one ever wants to hear someone they love cry. The struggle comes from knowing that you’ve done everything you’re supposed to for the “bedtime routine” knowing that she’s not lacking... she’s gone potty, she’s got her water, she’s been read a book, given hugs and kisses and tucked in.

If she is acting, she’s a grammy award winner hands down. The pathetic sobs and occasional “mama I want you” actually feel like they are somehow directly connected to my heart...

Frustration comes from knowing that you’ve done everything, she’s not lacking and still she’s crying. There’s nothing you can do but wait it out. And the sobs seem to echo off the walls, bouncing in your thoughts wondering if she might possibly be really sad about something, wondering if I’m letting her down, not consoling her if she hurts.

Anger comes into play pretty quickly after that. Knowing that she does know how to manipulate, knowing that if she cries there’s a chance I might come back in her room, and she gets what she wants. I hate manipulation. I hate how loud her cries seem, and worse I hate how they feel. I hate not having anyone to distract me from the situation or just sit here with me, beside me, telling me I’m doing the right thing, it’s all going to be ok.

Fear starts to show itself, when the anger pushes you so far that you’re afraid you will act out of anger. Yell too harshly for the crime, shut the door to her room and leave her in her own fear of being isolated with god knows what monsters she sees in the shadows. Fear that you’re failing as a parent.

Resentment... oh that ugly word. I will never resent having her ever, I resent that I can’t just go for a walk, that I’m chained to the house, I resent not knowing what to do, not being confident in my parenting, not having anyone to do this with me....that......and well.....you can’t give children sleeping pills!!!!!!

Emptiness is what I feel after I’ve had those ugly thoughts. How can you be angry at that tiny little being? She’s not really trying to drive me nuts, she’s just doing her job as a 3 year old. The screams and sobs have tugged at my heart, closed off my throat, and I want to cry. I want to talk to another adult, and I feel alone. I think this is about the only time I ever feel lonely as a single mom. And it feels big enough to swallow me whole.

And just when you think you can’t take it anymore, that you’re just about ready to start crying with her...there it is... finally..... through sobs... a smooth rhythm starting... the rhythm of her breath as she finally sleeps from pure exhaustion.

I peek into her room, so very quietly, afraid my own breath will start the madness over again, to see her angelic little face, lips parted and in a pout, hair plastered to her forehead from sweat and tears, and all I want to do is take back every horrible thought I had, pick her up in my arms and never let her go.

Instead, I tuck her back in, kiss her very gently on her head and whisper, I love you, I will always love you no matter what.

Spider Chronicles

2009-11-03T14:57:00.000Z

Tuesday, July 12, 2005
dah dant... dah dant.. dah dah dah dah dant (Jaws theme)

I had a ginormous stalker spider chasing me last night....(very phobic) it was crazy huge, and I swear, it was the size of a mouse...well including the legs!

had just put the boo to bed, got a glass o water, and sat down on the couch, lights off, tv on, book on my lap... and out of the corner of my eye I see this HUGE “thing” run across the floor. And I could tell by the way it moved, it was my arch nemisis... GINORMOUS SPIDER! Now, I knew I had to “get” it because if I didn’t I wouldn’t sleep. (they are tricky little creatures, they wait till you’re sleeping to “get” you, it must have thought I wouldn’t see it’s ginormous body speeding across the floor.. but HAH! I did)

I took a deep breath, scanned the room for a weapon, and spied one of Ellas wooden puzzles... now this means I’m going to have to get close to the thing, which I’m really not happy about, but it must be done...I moved slowly towards it, shaking the whole way, slapped the wooden puzzle board down on it hard... held my breath as I picked it up and the freakin thing was still alive!!!! CRAZY MUTANT GINORMOUS SPIDER!!!!

So I took the corner of the WOODEN puzzle and slammed it down on it fast, and missed.. and was about to pass out (because of the holding the breath thing) and did it again, and again, and again screaming DIE! .....I must have looked like some mad women in a crazy b movie..... anyway.. when I finally stopped and looked.. there were no spider reamains to be found... which means IT’S STILL ALIVE AND STALKING ME, laughing at me, calling all it’s little freaky spider friends to come watch this crazy lady!

I jumped on the couch (not the cushin part but the back of it to get a better view, incase he was calling his friends to attack me from behind)

Think, think, think I said to myself..I gotta find it, or I won’t sleep... oh and thank god ella wasn’t awake to see her mother acting like some possessed murderer! Ok.. hairspray would get it! SHIT... I don’t have hairspray... damn it.. why can’t I be more of a girl!!!! ????? .... ok.... um.. starch! UM NO... what in the world would I have to starch?????? Damn, why can’t I dress more professional?........ok.......OOOOHHH OOOOH WAIT!!!!!! I picked up a can of RAID the other day cuz it was on SALE, even though I hate those chemicals... I HAVE RAID!!! Thank GOD I am neurotic!!!!!! :-D

So.... I got the can o chemicals.... gathered some “gusto” and started cautiously moving boo’s toys out of the way... positive that at any moment the ginormous spider was going to jump out from under one of them and attack! I had just about moved all of them, and as I was pulling the basket away from the wall......there it was... laughing at me! And I aimed, held my breath, and squeezed the trigger (on the raid can silly) and sprayed... HA! I GOT IT! AND THEN........

It started crawling towards me as if to get me with it’s last dying breath... so I squeezed the trigger again.. and held it until there was a large white circle of chemical on my carpet... with a large squrimy mutant spider in the middle, and didn’t stop until it stopped moving......

And that my friend.. was a night in the life of a single mama scared of spiders.......

Spider Army part 2 “WAR”

Originally posted Friday, September 02, 2005

War

We all know from my infamous GINORMOUOS SPIDER story that myself and the arachnoids don’t get along.
You see they insist on tracking me down and terrorizing me, and I, well... I guess I repeatedly just about pee my pants everytime I see one.

I moved from the apartment with the GINORMOUS MUTANT SPIDERS into a new apartment hoping to rid myself of the spider army once and for all.

Well....Not so much.

The place I moved into is an older house in which I rent out the bottom (main level) 3BR apartment. Great character in this place.. it has the dark thick kick boards and archways that are usually found in older homes. And it is close to the lake, I can look out my living room window and see the lake, it’s a great view!

Uh... huh... I know.. lake, older house... and I should be expecting spiders right?
My response?

“Hi... have we met? My name is Linda.. yes, yes I do like my world.. would you like to come in?”

Well anyway, I have lived in the new place for about 2 weeks now, and have seen at least 3 spiders. They are at least all of a different variety, so I can safely(?) assume that it is not the spider army from the old apartment. I think.

The first spider encounter in the new place went rather smoothly.. (my mom was with me and I calmly called her over to rescue me from hideous large spder) and she said “Oh Linda... it’s just a little spider, squash it!”

Now I’m 35... you would think she would know that the previous 31 years of telling me that exact phrase has not really worked and that it probably NEVER WILL.

The second spder encounter happend later one night... (tricky bastards.. always waiting for the dimly lit hours.) I had just purchased a fabolous desk for my office/3rd bedroom and successfully loaded it into and out of my VW Bug (no small feat, small bug) and put my boo to bed, and started the task of assembling desk... with hutch.. and shelves... oh yeah, I’m a master carpenter now... sans penis. I knew that a penis wasn’t a necessary tool for construction!!!! Nothing can stop me now!

I was screwing the right hutch part onto the base of the desk and saw something black and bug like out of the corner of my eye. I was concentrating on the task at hand (putting the desk together with no power tools, just a regular screwdriver, makes for long work)

As I was turning the last screw in, my brain started to turn as well and kicked into “OH SHIT! IS THAT A SPIDER?” mode.... so I froze, took a breath, and slowly turned my head towards the black legged thing in question..... OH SHIT!!!!! IT IS A SPIDER! (Freakin things... new I was concentrating on the desk.. it probably been watching waitng to attack for a while)
I frantically scanned the room for something close by to kill it with ( my mom would have just slapped the thing with her bare hand..... Mommy?)

I couldn’t move too far away because it was on the move.. and I didn’t want to lose sight of it. You know... the keep an eye on your enemy thing.

There was nothing in reach so I realized I was going to have to use what I had in my hand... my screwdriver. Small surface area with which to make contact, HUGE room for the possiblity of missing the freakin thing. Well... I had no choice so I pulled my hand back, held my breath and brought the screwdriver handle down on it... kind of. I must have hit some part of it, it dropped to the floor and stayed there, we had a staring contest for about a minute and it didn’t move so I must have killed it..... ...........or did I?

I went back to work on the desk. I had to get behind it to attach the corner shelf part and realized that I was by the corpse of the spider... or at least I should have been F*@%ER! He was only playing dead Damn I hate those tricky bastards! Now I don’t know where it is, but I’m trying to convince myself that I wounded it mortally and it made it back to it’s little spidey friends and told them with it’s last audible breath, and showed them that if you mess with the new occupant you will die!

Well that must not have worked.

This morning I woke up.

They sent the freakin four star general!

This spider, this BIGGER THAN GINORMOUS, FOUR STAR GENERAL SPIDER was directly above me on the ceiling.

I wanted to pretend I was dreaming or more correctly having a nightmare... but no... no... the F*@%King thing was real.. staring at me with all of it’s beady freaky eyes... each leg ready to pounce on me from any direction (they have eight you know) OR... maybe the F*@%King thing was waiting until I yawned and was going to kill me by suicide? Jumping into my mouth so I choked to death. (did you know you sallow 8 spiders a year?) SHIT!

I slowly moved out of bed, fully convinced this is was it. The spider was going to win.

When I got out from under him, I moved as quickly as I could and pleaded with my brain to wake the fuck up, and remember where the RAID was.... UNDER THE SINK!!! YAY!!! Not still lost in the sea of boxes that have yet to be unpacked.

I cautiously entered the bedroom, Raid can raised high, trigger finger ready.

Now how the hell am I going to get this thing... he has chosen his battle position well. If I spray him he will jump on me from above. I must get on the bed off to one side.. AH HA! He’s hoping I will slip and fall off of my satin comforter! BASTARD! I know how they think!

I carefully got on the bed and sprayed... knowing full well that I wouldn’t have the pleasure of watching the General die, because he would jump down and run away before I could get him completely covered in the foamy pile of chemical he so badly deserved. And I sprayed, and he did..... he jump down, and crawled away.. and I continued to spray in all the crevices close by until I was breathing in Raid... ok.. not good, Raid for spider, not Linda. Um... I felt a little ill. But I knew that the if the General made it back to the Spider Army Lair that there would be hell to pay, so I sprayed around the doors and the windows and went into the office and sprayed there just incase that little tattle telling bastard spider that summoned the General in the first place was still alive.. and I sprayed saying my mantra.. die mutherf*@%er DIE!

Oh it’s on now.....
I am stopping at the store on my way home and I’m purchasing bug bombs.. it’s a 3 day weekend.. no one’s going to be there except the Spider Army.. and they will DIE!!!!!!!!

Oh... and just for all you people whom the spiders have tricked into thinking they are harmless.. here is a prime example.. this spider dude has a website.. on spiders.. he’s been missing since 1999... HELLO? THE SPIDERS GOT HIM!!!!
http://www.hobospider.org/

It’s about the boo

2009-10-24T04:44:00.001Z

Originally posted summer of 2007

It’s about the boo
Current mood: calm

I am going to my parents cabin this weekend.

You could say it was by choice, and I could disagree, but the reality of the situation is that it is in fact my choice.

You see although I know it won’t be fun for me necessarily I know that my daughter will enjoy her time with her gramma and papa, and that is the reason I choose to go.

Yes there are other things I would rather be doing, but it’s not always about me, sometimes I need to do what is great for my daughter and inevitably when I do that I seem to learn something about myself in the process.

I plan on bringing my laptop, a book, and a positive outlook, all though right now it doesn’t sound too positive huh?

Maybe this my own little pep talk to myself... I seem to do that a lot, being the only adult in the house right now while boo is in the tub, who else am I going to talk to?

My parents are aging, they will not be around forever, and they will not always be active. It is not my right to take the time that they are here, alert and active away from my daughter just because I would prefer to go out with my friends, or go dancing or take boo to the zoo etc.

And granted as I’ve said before they are not always that healthy to be around, but last weekend I had my voice with them, and I will continue to do so. When they are too much to be around because they are lost in their on little world, I will pack up and leave early. That simple.

I cherished my time with my grandma. In fact she is the most awesome person I have ever met in my entire life. She is boo’s namesake.

I remember sitting in her lap when I was a child, a very small child and knowing without a doubt that she loved me, no matter what I did. Almost all of my cherished childhood memories involve her or my grandpa. It helped shape who I am today, and I am so thankful for the time I had with them.

I learned so many things from them, about life, about people, about myself. My grandma Ella gave me unconditional love, respect, and hope for my future. She never criticized, or blamed and was always genuinely interested in my life. In fact if it wasn’t for her I dont’ think I would have had much physical or emotional affection in my life growing up.

She would find humor in situations that needed it, and taught me how to laugh at myself, how to pick myself up when I was feeling low without blaming others or myself and just looking at a situation differently. She voiced how she thought my father or mother was behaving and that it was not my fault.

I love her and miss her more than I could ever communicate in words, still to this day.

And my grandpa taught me how to build things... he was a tinker, he worked and repaired and built anything that was needed. I remember him working out in the garage and instead of shooing us away (my sister and I) he would have us “help” him. I remember the first thing I ever built was a giant “A”. He was working with wood, I don’t remember what he was building or repairing, but he gave me some wood scraps, a hammer and some nails I must’ve decided an “A” was somehow badly needed. He didn’t stop there, he taught me how to be proud of what I did, and to follow through with things. Just coming up with the idea, and putting it together wasn’t enough I had to see it through, finish it. I had to make sure it was smooth, sanded, and then I had to paint it. I remember I picked this bright, bright green color, and when I was done he never said why didn’t you build something useful, or pick a more common color, or let me get off by not following through to the end.

I think grandparents have a different level of patience, than parents do, and why wouldn’t they? They’ve been through this before.

My wish is that my daughter creates memories with her grandparents like I did with mine.

In order for that to happen I need to be able to give them the time to be together.

And seriously, it’s not hurting me to give up a weekend here and there, for a lifetime of memories for my boo.

Be who you are nothing more nothing less

2009-10-24T04:26:00.001Z

originally posted Monday, June 11, 2007

Be who you are nothing more nothing less
Current mood: contemplative
Category: Romance and Relationships

If somebody would have told me that I would be single at the age of 37 I would’ve believed them.

If somebody would’ve told me that I would be single at the age of 37 plus one, I would’ve argued with them that there was no way that would ever happen to me. I would never let that happen to me. I would simply choose differently.

I was 20 what the hell did I know about life?

Single...

Single plus one....

You hear of people enjoying being single, dating, no responsibilities, loving life, living free and easy.

Ahhhh.... but single plus one is a whole different story.

Single plus one takes all of those things, and changes it drastically. To the point that you wonder what direction your life is going in, if you are forever doomed to be alone, with this bundle of joy, which I think should be more accurately coined bundle of work, but totally worth it... but I digress...

How did I get here then you may be asking yourself.

Life.

Life happens. You can have it all planned out, and more often than not it doesn’t turn out that way.

I could go into stories about my childhood and why I made the choices I did, but I’m not sure that really gets us anywhere. The fact is, this is my life, these are the choices I have made, and this is my journey. It’s like everyone else’s in the fact that their are ups and downs, fear, loss, happiness. It’s not like everyone else’s because I am doing this on my own, finding myself, trying to be a role model for my daughter, and fighting societies view of what it means to be a single mother. Let me tell you, there almost always seems to be this fear of a single mother that is strong, determined to be the best do the best for her family that puts herself and her child first. Most people I meet want to know why I’m single, and more importantly why I’m not looking for a man.

Oh dear lord... a man... now what would I do with one of those?

The reason I am single is because I am not willing to settle. I want someone to walk with me through this life. I don’t want a daddy, or another child, I am not a possession, or arm candy. I am trying to make it on my own with my daughter and myself, focusing on that vs. trying to find a “man” to come riding up on his proverbial white horse and “save” me.

I don’t need saving.

My daughter doesn’t need a new daddy. She has one. Granted he’s not the best father in the world, and I’m hoping his future performance as a father is better than his past, but he is her father.

Dating... Dating used to be something that was easy, fun and a great way to meet new people and spend time with them, and maybe eventually meet that someone who sees you as an equal, a partner and finds you so amazing that they choose to walk through life with you.

I have single girlfriends, some are completely single nothing to tie them down (as we all were at one time or another) and some are single, but have major responsibilities i.e., children, jobs, aging parents etc.

I don’t think that women are more or less attractive based on where they are in their life.

I think it’s about who they are and knowing who they are and whether or not they choose to move forward or remain stagnant. Or rely on someone else to make them happy.

I’ve been challenged lately by the thought that all men are looking for that perfect 20 something girl with no strings, an open future and no baggage. And because of this, I will never find someone, and never find happiness.

Sometimes it’s easy to get sucked into that idea.

But for those that know me well they know most of the time I don’t really care.

You see I have a goal for myself. It might not seem like that big of a deal to most of you, but to me, it’s huge.

I want to be independent. I want to be financially independent. I want to be able to choose who I spend time with based on the person they are, and if we are headed in the same direction or not. Not driven by some other possibly subconscious reason.

Most of the time I am not “looking for” my next relationship. I am trying to figure out how to make my future better for me, and my boo. How I can own my own home, even after the realtor tells me “It takes two incomes, there’s not many people... “single moms”... who can buy a home on their own”

Why the hell not?

I think that if I can concentrate on improving myself, my situation, I can do it.

I refuse to accept that the only happily ever after in this world involves two people meeting falling in love and living happily ever after.

I think that is ridiculous actually.

I think that too many people rush into a relationship or concentrate on finding one that they miss most of their life. Always looking forward to that one particular destination.

I accept that my happily ever after means living my life with grace, compassion, understanding, honesty, and love.

Love in all of it’s forms.

This doesn’t make my happily ever after less than what seems to be accepted.

Actually I think it might make more sense.

I have been in relationships, horrible, wrong relationships, because I thought I should be in one. I was supposed to be in one and if I wasn’t, there was something wrong with me, somehow I was less than.

I was talking to a co-worker of mine about why so many relationships fail. How can people go from loving one another so much to in some cases wishing that person gone... even dead.

How does that happen?

Maybe it’s because we feel so rushed to get to that destination, to our happily ever after, that we see only what we choose to in one another. And most of the time it pertains to romantic relationships almost exclusively. I mean think about it.

I meet someone whom I have no romantic interest in, because they are the same sex or opposite (depending on whichever side of the fence you’re on) and this person seems great. I make plans, start hanging out, or chatting more often. The relationship, the friendship moves forward if this person treats me with respect, honor, trust, and genuine care for each other’s feelings.

If this new friend does something, or says something I don’t agree with, treats me or my other friends with disrespect I call them out on it. I don’t put up with it.

In romantic relationships that I’ve either been in or been on the outside looking in, the “bad” behavior is either overlooked or explained away or sure to be changed in the near future.

Inevitably the relationship fails, but not after it’s gone on much longer than it would have if it was a non romantic relationship.

Stop rushing.

Stop racing some invisible clock.

Stop trying to impress.

Be who you are, nothing more nothing less.

If I don’t know who I am and are concentrating more on who is going to love me, find me worthy, I need to stop. Stop and find worth in myself.

Make my own happily ever after.

People will make the journey with me, some the whole way, and others only for a short time.

As long as I have found myself, know myself, and am true to myself no one will be able to change my story.

No one can take away my Happily Ever After.

Perception... taught by pint sized professor....

2009-10-24T04:19:00.001Z

originally posted Sunday, June 10, 2007

Perception... taught by pint sized professor....
Current mood: grateful

I have the best little girl in the world.

Sometimes I forget she’s only three.

I went to the airport today to pick up my nephew, the “unaccompanied minor”.

We all know how directionally challenged I can be, and I joked with Mo on my way into the airport about remembering where I parked my car.

“Write it down” she said as we hung up with a giggle.

His flight got in at 2pm, which meant boo and I needed to get to the airport an hour early just like we would if we were taking a trip seeing as how we had to go through, check-in, get “boarding passes” for both of us, go through security to meet my nephew at the gate and sign for him, sorta like a fedex package, or the exchange of a prisoner, which of course I found humours but I was dreading the thought of this because I had to do this with boo. How was she going to be? Was she going to throw a tantrum, cry?..... ugh....it would be so much easier without her.

Determined to not have another parking ramp incident I parked on the edge of the ramp, as not to venture too far into the dark recesses for fear of never returning again.

Boo and I made our way into the building with ease, and started to stand in line for check-in.

Long line... ugh... this is not going to go well, it would be so much simpiler without boo.

Hey.....wait, I’m not actually checking bags, I don’t need to stand here, just go up to the person available while everyone else is actually checking their bags.... damn, I’m so smart sometimes!

Success! Skipped a long line, got our fake boarding passes, and proceeded to our second long line to go through security.

As we waited boo burned off her excess energy that seems all too common in those small in stature by spinning like a ballerina, and singing.

I find her amusing most times, but I nervously glanced around to make sure she wasn’t getting on anyone’s nerves.

Hmm... I’ve always wondered what it would be like to take a trip with her, I’ve told myself so many times that because I have her, I’m limited in what I can do.. trapped.. and yet so far this doesn’t seem so difficult do

I feel a tug on my pants “Mama, I want to fly on a plane” and I’m back to the moment

“We will baby, someday you and I will fly together, we’ll go on a trip ok?” and for the first time I actually believed it.

Everytime I have those moments I feel a little lighter, a little stronger, a little less trapped.

And at that I caught my breath.

There it is. I thought it.

again

It always comes back to that word.

That feeling.

The feeling that dug it’s home deep inside me the day I read the positive result on the home pregnancy test like a worm burrows into an apple to devour what it can and leave the rest to rot.

It’s days like today that I learn.

It’s days like today that I learn because I am ready to be present in the moment, and accept, truly accept, the pint sized professor that has thankfully graced my life with her presence.

Being single plus one is mostly greeted with that look of pity.

Along with averted eyes, and that noise

“tsk...tsk... that poor girl, if only she wouldn’t have made such a mistake her life would be so full of possiblities. No man is going to want her now, she’s damaged goods, she comes with baggage, who will ever want to raise someone elses bratty kid... She’ll never go anywhere, she’s given herself such limited choices now...tsk... tsk...such a shame...tsk.. tsk...”

And then that feeling has found it’s food source, and digs it’s nest a little deeper inside your head....tsk.. tsk... trapped.

But then there are days like today.

When I realize the only one stopping me from doing anything in my life is ME. The only cage that surrounds me is the one I’ve built.

Not my boo.

Not the responsiblity of having boo.

Not the “burden” of having boo.

Not all of the time she needs, that I have to give, because she is my boo.

My daughter handled herself better today at the age of 3 than most grown ups I know, myself included.

As we went through security, she marveld at everything that was happening around her, she greeted people with smiles, and made them laugh out loud while standing... waiting... standing... stressing... looking at their watches... sighing heavily... they all stopped, to watch my boo.

Full of life, full of smiles, full of laughter.

And I let go and played with her.

We made it to the gate, and watched the giant airplanes come and go, and all were greeted with that same wonder and excitement. She found money on the ground, a simple thing, pennies, and as I watched her pick it up, try to put it in her tiny jeans pocket only to drop it and try it again without anger or frustration but determination, I smiled and looked up only to see more people watching her, smiling.

When boo had successfully placed her pennies in her pocket we found my nephew and he was greeted by boo running and jumping in his arms yelling “My Casey!! My Casey!!! Mama it’s my Casey!!!”

I signed for him and we were off to get his luggage. Not bad, so far this is not bad at all boo and I could actually do this.

I looked at my watch. Not bad. We’ve been here an hour, and all we have to do is get the luggage and be on our way.

We got to baggage claim and on the way boo championed the dreaded escaltor monster. I like to let her try things on her own, find her own path, her own way of doing things. She would stop dead at the start and wait, find her timing, hold her breath and take that step. She did it alone with only an occaissonal helping hand from mama to steady her when she lost her balance.

Carousel 10.

There we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And watched the bags go round and round as boo cheered Casey on....

“Get it Casey Get it!!! You can do it Casey!!! Get it!!! Get it!!!”

Only there was no suitcase to be found.

The airline had lost his luggage.

Ok... another line, she’s going to get out of hand pretty soon, because I’m starting to get tired of standing around waiting, she’s got to be ready to come unglued soon. And this is why I can’t do this, can’t travel, things like this happen, I’ll have to wait until she’s older.

We stood in the lost luggage line for what seemed an eternity, and as the grown ups grumbled and bitched and complained and got angry....there was boo....She started “catching” the unclaimed luggage still on the carousel with a lanard Casey had. Then she moved onto making faces at herself in the shiny chrome of the poles that they use to rope off areas. And I looked around to see people watching her, smiling.

We found out there was another flight coming in about 45 minutes from Chicago,which his luggage might be on and I decided we should gamble it. Hang out, grab something to eat since it was now 3:30 none of us had eaten since early this morning.

Another line.

Another chance for boo to get out of hand.

To struggle with.

Only she didn’t.

She lightend the mood by singing about what she was going to eat. Nothings better than a made up song about sandwhichs in a refridgerator with no door, and cupcakes on the top shelf.

After we ate, we headed back to the baggage claim to wait some more. We’d been at the airport waiting for over 3 hours.

And boo hit her limit.

She didn’t throw a tantrum, she didn’t whine, or cry, she just started “acting out” if you will. Doing raspberrys directly at my face, things she knows will get her in trouble.

Instead of thinking “Oh great, this would be so much easier without her here”

I treated her with the respect she deserved and the kindness she had shared with me the entire day, she had given me the gift of perception all day.

Viewing things differently.

It was high time I returned the favor.

There was an open area a few feet away from the carousel we were waiting at and I told Casey I was going to let her run off some of that energy, and we did.

She ran from wall to post imitating which ever animal I named, and we laughed at the silliness and the releif it gave both of us. No standing in line waiting... we were running in a jungle as tigers, howling like coyotes, growling like bears, and making our moments together.

Granted people that past us thought we were completely nuts, well at least me... but it didn’t matter.

And there I was.....Single plus one.

Complete.

Free.

Learning about life from my “burden”

As we laughed and turned around there was Casey holding his suitcase high above his head triumphant, and we cheered him on.

“Yay Casey! You did it!!!” Boo giggles as she claps excitedly.

You did it

You

My little professor.

You did it.

I think I’m beginning to see the that the door is open on my bird cage, it’s up to me to decide when I walk through.

Now if I can just find that damn car.........

(it only took me 20 minutes this time)

As I finish writing this at my parents house, boo climbs beside me on my chair and whispers in my ear...

“Mama... I want to go home and do private time in my room”

Mr. Sandman bring me a dream.....

2009-10-24T04:07:00.001Z

Originally posted Monday, March 26, 2007

Mr. Sandman bring me a dream.....
Current mood: NOT SLEEPING

Can’t sleep.

Sandman’s been here, my eyes feel like they are full of it... he forgot to bring the sleep part.. the rat bastard.

Why is it that when you can’t sleep, it’s usually when you’re overly exhausted? And there’s no end in sight? I suppose I can sleep in on Saturday morning cuz I won’t have the boo, but really how much do you want to bet that when Saturday morning rolls around, I’ll wake up at 6:30am?

Oh... and seriously... why are clothes for women either Junior sizes and fashion... or Misses sizes and FRUMPY???? I mean where’s the in between? I really don’t think anyone should be wearing a terri cloth jumpsuit past the age of 12.... and yet I really don’t want to wear polyester “mom” clothes either. .... there’s your random midnight thought....

Work... oh yeah let’s ramble about work a little bit huh? I will be tired tomorrow because I will only have slept a couple of hours and then I will rush out the door, drop boo off and daycare only to rush into my office, sit down turn on the computer, and waste time... seriously overstaffed, and not enough work... yep, I do know if the wrong person reads this it could mean trouble, but it’s the truth, and for the small amount of work that has come my way, I’ve been able to win awards... so it’s not my fault... I’m efficient and good at what I do... that is when I get to do it.....anyone have any good leads on a Graphic Artist opening anywhere?

Did you ever take a journalism class in college? You know the assignments where you just go in and write for an hour without stopping? Sometimes you’d be given a subject and other times you would just have to put pen to paper and never pick it up and if you couldn’t think of what to say you had to write “I can’t think of anything to say” I was just thinking that if Butch ever had that class I bet he would never have to write I can’t think of anything to say.... and if Peggy Larson had that class her professor would’ve have had to pass out at least once a day after reading her writing because there are no punctuation marks to let you breathe, but I love her writing.... oh and if fitz had that class he would write “I don’t fucking know what the fuck to write” and if Daniel had the class.. well shit.... the teacher would probably have to pry the pen and paper away from him......

So, my daughter masterbates... A LOT..... yep... she’s three... and when she’s older I hope she never sees this blog.... but damn... that’s crazy! I know it’s all perfectly normal and all, and I always just tell her to do it in private like in the bathroom or her bedroom and she does.... but the other morning I happend to walk by her room and she was just lying there, walked by again and she was rubbin one out and I ignored it, did some stuff, 45 mn later and we had to get going to a party and she was still workin on it!!! I had to go interrupt her!!! I mean I was ok with the very rare 5 min deal here and there ... but seriously 45 min? She got out of bed hair all tousled, cheeks all rosy, and staggerd to the bathroom..... I’m in trouble.

Yep... still not tired.

WOOO HOOOO!!! Oh goody, now my eyes are blurry, I bet yours are too... well quit reading then... I’m writing cuz I can’t sleep, what the hell are you doing reading this boring shit?

What other personal information can I divulge to the masses?

I hate boogers. They gross me out. I mean really... I gag when I see them, and if a kid (other than boo when she was really small and even then I gagged sometimes) has boogers I gag... it’s just a reflex... seriously there are worse things out there, but no, I gag at boogers.

If you’ve never gotten a message from Laslo you’re missin out... he leaves the best messages EVER...so far, he’s been my mom, my vagina (twice) and some random wrong number caller.... it’s gotten to the point where I see it’s him calling and I don’t want to pick up cuz I want another message.

Yep this is the stream of thought.. no pauses... not thinking what should I write about next it just pops in and out... OH! In and Out burgers!!! I want one!!!

That reminds me of a party I went to in AZ one time.. it was at Fat Bastards House... Really.... this dude had some cash, his house was amazing the food was amazing.. he actually had every room in his house (besides the bedrooms and the bathrooms) set up with different types of foods... like the kitchen was all appetizers, the dining room was all desserts, the living room was all salads.. etc... outside by the pool was this ice sculpture that had a “slide” that you’d pour your shot of liquer from the top to the bottom where a glass was to cool your drink... anyway.... I just happend to show up at this dudes house with a friend of a friend... so basically I didn’t know anyone there... and I was asking who was hosting the party and they pointed to this man who looked EXACTLY like Fat Bastard from the Austin Powers movies... EXACTLY! He didn’t have the accent though which was good because as it was I couldn’t look him in the face and talk to him without giggling... yep I’m mature.....

Sleeping yet?

No.

Why not?

Cuz God is punishing me cuz I don’t believe in him.... or I didn’t visualize myself sleeping enough I guess.... fuck!

Da do run run da do run run.... I’m hot, my laptop gets really hot.. so now, I’m sleepy, hot and sweaty... that’s a lovely picture huh?

All right.. my fingers are tired and before I divulge my masterbation techniques, I’m closing this thing......

If I’m not online by 8:00am someone call me, it means I’ve probably just fallen asleep.....

So....We’re White.

2009-10-24T03:59:00.000Z

Originally posted Wednesday, March 21, 2007

So....We’re White.
Current mood: embarrassed
Category: Life

I was running some errands at our local (hicksville) Target.....

Actuallly it’s pretty exciting, they just opened a new SuperTarget about 5miles or so from my house in the neighboring hicksville village.

Oh the excitement... hold back... I know.

So boo and I were checking out the goods, playing, trying on sunglasses, laughing, and generally having a good time.

I wanted to find a new swimsuit, so I grabbed 3 different ones to try on. Each was greeted with
“Ewwww.... mama... “ “You have two underwears on, mama, ewwww one’s in your butt” As her little hands were trying to reach for my thong undies and remove them from their proper place as I frantically turned in circles, cuz really? Who wants their childs hands in their butt crack?.... but I digress......

After the swimsuit fiasco... we went to the grocery side of the store to pick up a few things we needed and the emphatically added.. “COOKIES!!” to the list.

As I was pushing my little darling boo in the cart (I was halfway holding her, halfway pushing her because seconds earlier she was running through the store not looking where she was going and ran straight into a bar for displaying jewlery and it smacked her right below her eye, she was being brave and trying not to cry, but it already was a red bump) and I was singing made up songs to comfort her.... and all of a sudden....

“Mama! Mama! There’s a BLACK MAN!!”

Now boo will keep repeating the same thing over and over until you acknowledge her, so I replied yes honey.. but he’s just a man.

“NO!!!!!”
“Mama he’s a
BLACK MAN!!!”

“Yes sweetie, but everyone’s different, he’s just a man”

Screaming at a volume like she’s about to meet her favorite Cartoon hero, she grabs my face, turns my head and screeches
“BUT MAMA L-O-O-K!!!! Mama why is he so BLACK!!!??”

I turned to this poor man, and his girlfriend and expressed my apologies, and tried to explain that we don’t get out much, and since we live in hicksville there’s not much ethnic diversity.

His girlfriend laughed and said she understood and it was no big deal... but he didn’t look so cool with it.

Which I’m pretty sure had something to do with my darling boo in the background all the while I was talking to them was still saying.....”Mama... LOOK at him.... Mama he is SO black!... Mama he’s REALLY DARK... mama.... that’s a black man...” which at this point had started to have a sing-song quality about it. And the song crescendoed with “MAMA WHY IS HE SO BLACK?”

To which, This RED mama replied with the only thing she could think of
“Why are you so white?”

Which did create the desired slience for about 2 seconds.

I heard a slight echo and laugh from said black man’s girlfriend... and then...

Boo looked at me with disbelief and a touch of disgust and said
“I’m not white, my SHIRT is white......but mama.... (pointing again) THAT’S A BLACK MAN!”

So I said my apologies again, and quickly pushed her off in another direction trying to explain people come in all shapes, sizes AND colors...

and of course

we ran into the same poor man about three more times (well actually came “close” to him and by that I mean at least 20 feet away) and each time he was greeted with

“MAMA THERE HE IS AGAIN! THAT BLACK MAN!!!!”

I want a pony

2009-10-24T03:51:00.000Z

Current mood: giggly

Yep.

A Pony.

Well not really.....actually a horse.... because a pony would be too small for me.

an arabian horse.

I used to have an arabian horse.. well not really... I didn’t own it I just borrowed it, and it wasn’t really an arabian.. well not completely arabian it was part quarter horse...

Alfie was his name-O...

well not really... his real name was Al Fury which really suited him much better because when I was putting the saddle on him his whole body would quiver because he was ready to R-U-N

He would do anything for me.... well not really... I mean he couldn’t do the dishes or anything but if I asked/wanted him to jump anything he physically could he would. No hesitation.

Ahhh...

I want a pony. (and by that I mean horse.)

Transferring it all

2009-01-26T03:09:00.002Z

I will be moving my blogs I had on my previous myspace page here.

I had a request for some of them, so that's it, the answer is yes, I have posted this somewhere once before. I will post the original date they were posted on at the bottom of each.

Thanks for the request, it actually makes me happy that what I wrote will be of use to someone else!

Sitting in my No-where land.....

2008-12-30T19:43:00.002Z

I just spent 5 days at my parents place over Christmas.

It's weird ya know.

My mother has lived in the same area for most of her life, save when she spent a year or two in England when my father was stationed over there in the Army.

I am not sure if I feel isolated when I'm down there because of the actual fact that I AM isolated (ha ha just wait there's more) or because of the isolation I put myself into while I was actually growing up there.

Does my body, mind go on auto pilot once I get there?

It seems as I make the three hour trek, the closer I get to my childhood home, the farther away "I" go.

By the time I'm greeted at the door with the usual obligatory hug I'm not sure if I'm anything more than robotic.

I find it interesting though, the outward appearance of the landscape reflects my emotions.

I see no beauty there.

It's the prairie, desolate and wind whipped, speckled with deserted family farms broken and decaying.

You can see for miles.

When I was a small child, either I didn't notice, or it was filled with much more life...

I enjoyed running like a wild child in the groves of our family farm, making paths as I ran barefoot through the trees, hiding in my own little universe. I remember when I had ran the path so many times after a rain that it became hard, and smooth, and felt cool beneath my bare feet.

My sister and I would take our horses and ride through the trees pretending we were lost on a deserted island, or we were Indians, building forts with fallen branches, and building fires and "cooking" with an old discarded can or anything else we could find in the woods.

We lived by a lake and would take our horses swimming, laughing and living and happy in our own make believe world.

I'm not sure when I woke, and it seems my memories become less vivid with each passing year. This alone does not concern me.

I can no longer switch to that girl, running down the damp path in the woods, hair flowing behind, tangles filled with dirt and leaves, pretending --no BELIEVING-- she was on an island, connected wholly to everything around her. Confident in herself, every move made, wide eyed at every new "discovery".

I watch boo play, easily, confidently, without hesitation, enter that land of make-believe.

I have actually sat down to play with her, expecting to cross over to that land just as easily as I did long ago, and found I have somehow, somewhere misplaced that key.

Was there a key?

Was there a door?

I have lost my footing on the path, and it is filled with sharp rocks and twigs that sting as I try to find my way.

All grown up, I am starting to think, to believe that I need to find that key, because that key, that place where I was sure of every move I made, no matter the outcome, is the key to my peace, my happiness, my happily ever after.

I know it's here somewhere.....

Raw

2008-11-07T17:45:00.003Z

I feel it.

I feel the physical pain in my heart, yet nothing's touching it.

I feel the hands around my throat, gripping tighter, squeezing, I'm gasping for air and I'm fighting the urge to reach up and tear them away.

There are no hands there.

What makes today so much different?

Why is it that most days I can handle the shitty job that I hate, that I go to everyday, and yet still struggle to pay the bills? I can handle boo's dad being an ass, and not even get too jealous that his life hasn't really changed, yet I am fighting for her too now. I'm fighting, and have lost a lot of my freedom, and most days I can see that she has given me so much more than I feel like I have lost right now. Most days she is my sunshine, my ray of light, but today it's like another anchor thrown on top of me to drag me down while I already struggle to keep my head above the waves.

Why is it that today I feel like I'm not going to ever find that way out?

That there's something to find a way out of?

Why is it that today I hate.

I hate more than anything else? It's clouded my vision, and has my sensibilities hostage.

I am screaming, you just can't hear me.

2008-09-03T14:30:00.002Z

boo goes to school

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Where?

2008-08-25T17:37:00.002Z

I don't know.

You go first.

You have to be ok if I choose not to follow.

Let go?

I'm afraid.

I need that dream again, you know, the one where I can fly.

Terrifying and beautiful all at once.

Lump

2008-08-04T20:03:00.002Z

"How am I supposed to do it?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to do it?" she says as she feels her cheeks redden.

"I go over and over and over it again and I just don't know how I'm supposed to do it. And what makes me feel worse is that I know there are women in much worse situations than I."

The lump in her throat seems to find it's food source in this thought and burrows itself in.

"I work, I work full time and get more than minimum wage. I watch what I spend, and still come up short."

The lump is feeding and filling itself like a wood tick that has gorged itself gray and is ready to pop.

"I don't want to rely on him or anyone else, and yet, here I sit, a couple of months without Child Support, and I'm broke, beyond broke.... and him? Well he's living life without worrying about providing for a little girl, knowing school is starting soon, she will need supplies, yet he lives without the fear of not being able to stay afloat."

And with that flash of anger, she has given the lump dessert, it is now fat and happy and she can no longer seem to breathe.

Does anyone else find this disturbing?

2008-07-30T20:45:00.002Z

Holy Craziness BATMAN!!!!

In short.. we have a middle aged man dressed as batman patrolling neighborhood parks seeking out children to keep them off of drugs, because GOD or a "voice" told him to.

Seriously?

If I was a child I think that might scare me into DOING drugs!

The who? The what? Where?

2008-07-30T16:11:00.003Z

I'm busy.

I'm tired, and have found myself with a loverly summertime cold, which I'm currently trying to kick out of my system by drinking the hottest water I can possibly swallow without having to treat myself for minor burns.

You see I research everything, because, well.. I'm a dork. And today I decided to research getting rid of cold as quickly as possible on a very reliable source. GOOGLE of course! Hey at least I'm not trying the rub chicken grease on my chest and pour goose oil in my ear method, I'm just drinking extremely hot water because it's supposed to kill the bacteria that's in your sinus/respiratory system and it kinda makes sense, except for the fact I'm drinking it and not inhaling it.. because.. well then I'd have a whole other problem LIKE DROWNING...so why not try it!

I am working in Burnsville now (same company, just the specialty publications, so I'm designing magazines, and the oh so thrilling chamber directories and maps every once and awhile. The work is ok. I'm still hoping for better. Actually I'm doing more than hoping.

It's hard to believe I will be Antonia again in just a few short weeks.
Not sure how I feel about that. There's something missing this year, and I don't know exactly what that is, other than I'm not as excited as I usually am this time of year, but it could just be the other crap that's going on in my life eating up that focus.

I feel the Northwind blowing.......

Well, what would you do?

2008-06-23T17:12:00.008Z

href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_i9jp6ItUmFA/SF_bIbNYmyI/AAAAAAAAAHk/M5PoDjVenmY/s1600-h/Boo.jpg">

What?

Oh.

When driving down the hwy, looking at a very long ride, because it's late in the day heading back into the Twin Cities Metro area and there's tons of traffic?

Me too...see....

Makes my heart hurt... but this is a fabulous idea

2008-06-10T20:06:00.002Z

Plant extra vegetables in your garden and donate to your local food shelf!!!

Here's the story that ran in our paper

2008-06-04T02:32:00.000Z

cyd trying to remember what she needs for the art show

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Lesbians?

2008-06-03T19:37:00.005Z

So... our neighbors think Cyd and I are a couple.

I have no idea where they would come up with that. I mean we're just two girls who are renting the same house. We do everyday normal things, and what I mean by that is...it's not like we've made out in front of them or anything..

Cyd and I decided to spend the night in.

Ya know... just hang out at home and watch a movie... like normal people.

Except of course we watch movies on my computer that I download from Itunes..

...in the bedroom.

...in our beds

... which are side by side in the same room (Cyd's scared of mice and I'm scared of spiders, don't ask, it just works)

....with a great bottle of wine

.... and candle light

.... and cheese, crackers and strawberries,

....and chocolate

Ya know... like normalpeople.

So we have our movie night all set up, and are in tank tops and undies, and the doorbell rings.

We look at each other with the "Should we actually answer the door" face.

"Oh Shit! That's the neighbor, he borrowed some ground ginger before you got home, he's probably returning it!"

"Oh great! They already think we're a couple, now the house is candle lit, we're both upstairs which I'm sure they saw and heard through the open window, and I'm hurrying to get clothes back on before I answer the door!" Cyd says through laughter while jumping on one leg struggling to get her jeans back on.

Of course this makes me laugh, and we all know, my laugh is not a quiet one, as she heads off downstairs to collect the borrowed spice.

And then I hear.... in a very over exaggerated casual voice... which actually made it sound more like I'm guilty, of everything you might be thinking about me right now, completely guilty... "HI! I was just downstairs doing laundry!"

Now, since I was upstairs still in bed snickering at her high pitched attempt at being casual, I didn't hear what was said in return.... but I started laughing again, I just couldn't help it.

Cyd returns upstairs talking loudly so I can hear her from downstairs and over the noise of the fan... "Oh my God! It had to be the little boy! He was stillout there, he waited the whole time it took to get my clothes back on!"

To which I replied by pointing at the open window and tears of laughter. By the horrified look on Cyds face she just realized he probably just heard that.

Which of course makes me laugh harder, and start having to catch my breath through it all, and I start repeating over and over "Oh god... (heavy breathing) OH GOD!! Oh my god.. oh... OH.... GOD!!!!!"

Which in turn makes Cyd say "Oh God!!! OH. MY. GOD." also through laughter so hard the laugh part is not coming out it's just silent... big breath... and the words... "Oh MY GOD!"

So... like I said....Ya know... just hanging out at home and watching a movie... like normal people.

Where would they come up with that idea?

Damn.. one of is going to have to start dating again!

It's the rain I think...

2008-06-02T23:38:00.003Z

I'm thinking about you again.

The way you touch me.

I can't stop thinking about you in fact.
I can't stop thinking about your touch.

I see your hands, as they move across my body, and my memory senses the touch as my body reacts.

You.

You with the touch I crave, the look that melts me, the laughter that frees me.

You with the lips I want to taste, the arms I long to wrap around me, with the soul that embraces my own.

You.

Are not here.

Yet, here, is where I am.

Waiting.

Most of the time, the waiting is not difficult, I will not settle for an imitation.

But today?

Today... every cell in my body seems to remember you.

You, who I have not met here...yet.

At my parents....in the middle of no where....

2008-06-01T00:38:00.001Z

It's more important than you think, you could change someone's life.

2008-05-30T13:53:00.005Z

This is a TShirt design I just did for Cyd's Art Show.. which is June 4th

Cyd works for a level 4 school... What does this mean?

Well it means she works with really... I mean really naughty kids... the ones that are on their last chance before jail time or coming back from jail time, and finishing their education.

These kids don't want to learn.... well that's not true.. these kids have been told they are nothing, by their parents, previous teachers, peers, life.

Cyd reached them... she's even writing a book about how she's reached the ones no one else seems to be able to.

She has these kids doing art, they've worked with the culinary and woodshop classes to make mosaic coffee tables, coasters and wall pieces. Culinary is preparing food for the show.

These kids have put their blood, sweat, tears and even sometimes anger into pieces of broken glass, wood, paint and journals to come through the otherside of accomplishment and healing.

If you have time on Wednesday evening June 4th 2008, PLEASE show these kids some support... there's a silent auction for the art pieces they've made, and I've been told they are beautiful...the auction prices start at material cost....

email me for more information if you're interested in attending!
or follow this link to the story

Bren Road Student Art Show

It's ok, I'm praying.

2008-05-28T15:29:00.002Z

I drive from Edina to Elk River 5 days a week....it's an ok drive because I'm mostly going against traffic.

I feel bad cruising down the highway at 80mph while the poor saps driving into the Mpls area are almost at a standstill.

I see a lot of things while driving... most are your typical cell phone users not paying attention (myself included on this sometimes) that speed up, go slow, swerve here and there. Some are a little more odd... the pet owners that have dogs and cats everywhere in their vehicles... how you drive with fido lying across your arms is beyond me... once I saw a woman with a bird on her head. Seriously. All I kept thinking was I wonder if she just walks around with bird poop on her head or makes sure she checks herself in the mirror every time she gets out of the car?

Today?

Well today I saw a man praying.

He was driving down 94 heading west, hands folded in prayer with heel of his hands on the middle part of the steering wheel, and his finger tips on the top... eyes half closed... praying...

I'm not religious, but I found myself praying just a little too....

"Jesus Christ! Seriously?! I hope that dude doesn't kill someone, maybe that's what he's praying for after he prays for enough money or whatever he thinks is worth praying for while speeding down the highway at 80mph with his hands barely on the steering wheel!"

Free Fallin'

2008-05-20T14:12:00.004Z

My first weekend back from my vacation, stressing a bit about money, about boo starting kindergarten this fall, about boo lying and acting out by hitting her friends when she’s angry...something I’d expect from a 2 year old but not an almost 5 year old... (wondering where I dropped the ball?). Stressing about things that I need to get done to move forward in my life to stop stressing about money... just to stop stressing.....I was a bit on overload, on the verge of feeling overwhelmed, that there’s just not enough time to get everything done. A little like the scene in a thriller where the girl has fallen on the edge of a cliff and she’s hanging on by some small straggle of a root that somehow as tiny as it is, has enough strength to keep her from plunging to her death.

Thankful for my little root...the tiny things in life, that keep me holding on... even letting go, to see where the free fall takes me....

Back to Reality

2008-05-14T14:58:00.002Z

I'm home, got back around 3:30 yesterday, it was fabulous, and perfect, and fabulous.... now I'm trying to wrap my brain around normal life again... it seems to be sputtering, refusing the transition.

I MISS MY BOO!!!! I can't wait to see her, but I have to, I have to wait until I'm done with work tonight at 4..... I MISS MY BOO!!!! I just want to squish her and squeeze her and kiss her and never let her go!

All work and no play....

2008-05-08T14:58:00.002Z

My eyes are blurry.

I've been working non stop, learning non stop it's awesome...but...

It's time to stop!!

I'm going to Vegas tomorrow. As of 2pm I will be somewhere fabulous in Vegas, liquid happy in hand.

I need the break.

Now if I could just get the mobile blogging figured out, I could post shiny happy pictures of my fabu trip here... *Le Sigh*

My Thank You

2008-05-02T13:13:00.004Z

Here's my Thank You to The Dude...

It's how I felt walking out of his office Wed....

I was originally designing it to be the cover of a Thank You Card that I was going to print out and hand write a thank you, but he beat me to it... I got home yesterday and there was a thank you from HIM in my email!!!

Sweet Inspiration!

2008-05-01T19:42:00.002Z

The meeting with The Dude was fantastical!!!

Thank you all for your support and words of encouragement.

I am super stoked, slightly overwhelmed, amazed, happy, and looking through those rose colored glasses I love so much to the hopefully very near future.

I have it.

I had it.

I just forgot that I did.

It's amazing how much better life feels when I actually take a trip through that cage door.

I hope you find the courage to go through yours...

... back to work for me.. I've got a shit-ton of stuff to do, but I've been given a great opportunity here, depending on the work I put into it, is the success that's attainable....

I iz a bizzy gurl.....

“Over-preparation is the foe of inspiration”

2008-04-29T20:51:00.002Z

So.. I should be leaving work in about 10min... to promptly run home and try the new USB cable I bought at lunch, since the new one I bought last night and plugged into my shiny new tech toys didn't work.....*Le sigh*

Cyd called... she's going to the Duplex.

MMmmmmm the duplex.

Can I bring boo? Do they have wifi? Boo's diggin on Barbie.com right now...

NO! No no.... Nix... go home plug in the printer to the 'puter, print your shit.. you meet The Dude tomorrow night

BUT! BUT!.... but..... butt..... I want to..... awwwww.. SHIT! FINE!
I'll go home, print my stuff and THEN go to the Duplex, have a glass o wine, and fret about meeting The Dude tomorrow.

Umm... not exactly what I had in mind but, it should work, I guess... you do realize this is called sabotaging yourself right?

Awww.... it'll be fine. What's that saying I like?....“Over-preparation is the foe of inspiration”

Yeah and who said that?

Napoleon Bonaparte.

Riiiight.

Shit.

Who knew?

2008-04-28T20:48:00.002Z

Wow, You're a Jack Russell Terrier!

Jack Russell Terrier

The Artist

You, my friend, are an artiste! Fuelled by a hounding sense of creativity and an untameable desire to express yourself, you see the world through rose-colored glasses one day and then wrestle the curtains closed and turn off the lights so you can ponder life the next. Your dog-eared journal is filled with brilliant ideas about rescuing the universe, yet you have trouble training your noggin on any one of them for any significant amount of time. Your originality occasionally manifests itself as performance art, and you love showing off your amazing athletic abilities in front of an audience. When it comes to taking on the leader of the pack, you’re not afraid to sink your teeth in - and won't loosen your grip until you've gotten your point across.

Fear

2008-04-28T19:11:00.002Z

I'm wondering if I received a little extra helping of this emotion?

You see I think I've kept myself from doing things in my life because of fear.

Fear that I will screw it up for boo.
Fear that I will lose boo.
Fear that I am not good enough.
Fear that I will fail.

I have been given an opportunity on Wednesday to meet with someone to advance my career as a graphic artist, and guess what?

Yep, scared shit-less.

Scared that he's going to laugh me right out of his office in fact. You see it's not that I think I'm lacking in the talent department really... I mean I'm good, I win awards, but I still sometimes don't believe that I'm good, and for some reason I've just managed to fool the people I work with into believing that I'm worthy of the awards I've won.

I'm also feeling a little fear from the fact that I don't know flash or dreamweaver, and I've really only done print ads for YEARS... I'm talking boring, bang your head on your desk, shove 10lbs. of shit in a 2lb bag, L7 print ads... with an occasional "do whatever you want" thrown in. (which are the ones I usually win the awards for)....

ooooh...

but....

to even think about having that cage door opened..... will I have the guts to fly out? Or will I sit there afraid to fly?

I don't have my portfolio ready. Probably because I don't have the "right" stuff to put into it... just the boring print ads.....I know one thing for sure... if I don't change my thinking right this instant, I won't fly... I'll sit here.... I'll sit here until my brain turns to mush, my ass looks even more like my chair every day, and boo and I never own our own home because I don't make enough money to do it, and her dad can continue to call us up saying he's going to cut the child support and throw me into that "Oh fuck, how are we going to make it now" mode...

Get off your ass Nix, it's time to move.

Beware the Penis Snatcher!

2008-04-23T14:22:00.002Z

Boyz... there's a Penis Snatcher on the loose in the Congo!

By Joe Bavier Tue Apr 22, 1:24 PM ET See the whole story on yahoo.com

KINSHASA (Reuters) - Police in Congo have arrested 13 suspected sorcerers accused of using black magic to steal or shrink men's penises after a wave of panic and attempted lynchings triggered by the alleged witchcraft.

"It's real. Just yesterday here, there was a man who was a victim. We saw. What was left was tiny," said 29-year-old Alain Kalala, who sells phone credits near a Kinshasa police station.

"I'm tempted to say it's one huge joke," Oleko said.

"But when you try to tell the victims that their penises are still there, they tell you that it's become tiny or that they've become impotent. To that I tell them, 'How do you know if you haven't gone home and tried it'," he said.

You don't need to change a thing about you babe, from where I sit you're one of a kind.

2008-04-22T14:45:00.004Z

I don't know.

I don't know the answer to your question.

I don't even know the answer to mine.

But I do know that when I look at life as a destination, an end, a "I'm supposed to be here at this point in my life, and this point at another point" I am utterly disappointed.

I find it strange that I have to keep reminding myself that life is a journey, it's not a destination.

I know it's not.

But then I forget...

The perfect job will not make me happier.
The perfect weight/body image will not make me happier (I've been bigger than I am and smaller than I am and have never been completely satisfied)
The perfect relationship will not make me happier.

There is not a point in life that you can just sit and not move forward. There will never be a time where something won't come up that you have to "deal" with. There will never be a time where I have everything I'm supposed to and life will be magically easy.

Life is about living, not existing.

It's about the moments...all of them.

If you are constantly wishing it was different, you're constantly missing out on what's right in front of you.

I'm exactly where I'm "supposed" to be.
I can't make more time than I have, and the time that I have I refuse to wish I was doing something else with.

It's strange how just that way of thinking can change how I feel about myself and life itself. Peaceful, content, happy.

Here's hoping you find yourself living whatever moment you're in.

Ahhhh.. Memories....

2008-04-18T20:23:00.002Z

The Water Cooler: The Unexplained

Peggy I love you and I hope you are doing fabulously.

I will miss the shennanigans this year! :-(

"Learn 5 Sexy Tips".....

2008-04-18T17:20:00.006Z

...read the headline of the internet ad, posted above the tiny red bikini clad almost anorexic model.
Her face not pictured, just neck to mid-thigh.. you know... the Important parts of YOU.

Really? Let me guess... probably something about quick weight loss, a tiny black dress, moisturizing tips, sex tips to please your man, make-up, hair products, make your lips look fuller, make your ass look smaller, liposuction, botox, blah blah blah blah blah!

I've got 5 Sexy Tips for you....and none of them involve purchasing anything.

1. Be Smart... have a brain... engage people with your conversation...even if they obviously can't stop staring at your tits.... any witty intellectual girl would bring their obvious distraction into the conversation.. whilst using it as a test.

What? you say...

Yes.. it's simple... without changing your inflection or rhythym of your speech, just interject the worlds "tits" into your conversation..like... say you were talking about your work... and just let it slip... end it with a "So... what' do you think abou-t-it-s?" Ya know... kinda slurred together... and see if you get a reaction... good fun! (or maybe it's just me..)

Seriously though... be smart...stop buying everything they are telling you... cuz they are only telling you you're not good enough just so you'll BUY their shit.
Stop being so concerned about how you look. Stop buying everything they are telling you... cuz they are only telling you you're not good enough just so you'll BUY their shit.

2. Be Strong....mentally and physically. Stop trying to please everyone else and please yourself. Keep learning, whatever it is... a new hobby, a new book, a new theory...THINK for YOURSELF. Stand up for what you believe is right.
Take time to eat right and exercise if that's your thing. I'm not saying kill yourself to be a super model, this is not about how you look. I am saying don't be so weak you can't go out for a walk or a swim and enjoy the sun... don't be so out of shape that it will stop you from doing things you used to do, or that you want to do.

When my body feels strong, my mind feels strong.

3. Be Independent....have your own flippin life... don't automatically drop your friends or your "me" time, or your hobbies just because Mr/Mrs wonderful came into your life. No one person can be everything to another person.

There is nothing less sexy than needy.
"If you go out with your friends well then whatever shall I do?" utters the tiny red bikini clad almost anorexic model who has bought into the media's idea of sexy....

...and Mr Wonderful thinks... "um.. I don't know what the hell did you do before I came along?" and contemplates what makes you interesting in the first place.....

4. Be Adventurous... keep living... try new things... growing.. moving forward, you'll always have something interesting to talk about. And I don't mean you have to go sky diving.
Go out... go to a new restaurant, go to a new park, go to a new club, listen to new music, read something that's not on the best seller list.. you get the idea.

5. Be Confident... no matter what or who you are. That also means don't try to be something you are not, there is no confidence in wishing you were someone else... NONE. Love who you are, love what makes you unique, hell love your shape... it's yours, yours alone.. I'm no where near perfect, but no one else looks like me either.

There.

5 Sexy Tips from me. that YOU already new, but accidentally forgot about because of all of the brainwashing ads that you've seen. Stop believing them, start looking in the mirror, you've already got what they're selling... you don't need it.

That'll be $500, I accept pay-pal.

2008-04-17T14:04:00.002Z

I'm stuck.

Between waking and dreaming, doing neither.

I think it has a lot to do with being stuck at my desk for 8 hours a day with very minimal work coming through, it's brain numbing, and what's worse is I'm not good at busy work.

I can't fake it.

Maybe I just don't want to fake it.

I want to do something....anything... well not anything... but you get my drift.

I'm just not good at it.

I'm not good at sitting to begin with, but sitting and not having anything to actually do, well... that makes for a very pissy nixie.

So... people.... what do you do with a Pissy Nixie?

"Johnny?.... It's June.....I think I'm ready."

2008-04-14T19:43:00.004Z

I find it interesting really.

This magic this phrase "Point of View"....or..."Perspective" seems to have.

"It's all in your perspective" s/he says arrogantly

What does that really mean?

That it's ok as long as if from your POV it was harmless, and no one got hurt, but from someone else's POV, they see that someone did get hurt and they are telling you it's you...yet from your POV you don't seem hurt, or injured or any less of anything really, actually maybe even a little happier, that is, until "they" tell you about their POV.

Head swimming yet? Cuz really we could go 'round and round again, with any subject...

P.O.V.

I think it should be more "People Of Vanity" or "Perpetual Oscillating Vacillation" vs. Point of View.

Because really doesn't it all come down to a judgment call then?

Or manipulation?

Here's a famous POV....

Clinton admitted that he lied to the American people and that he had had "inappropriate intimate contact" with Lewinsky. .........."I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Miss Lewinsky" in a nationally televised White House news conference. The line later became famous for its technical truthfulness but deceptive nature, based on one's definition of "sexual relations."

"ones definition" = POV

All this blathering is a result of too much time, and really not understanding the way most people think, or choose to live by seemingly getting joy and building their egos by cutting down others while hiding behind the fact that it's from "my point of view."

Guess what? Your Point of View, is your OPINION it holds no higher ground than anyone else's.... get over it.

Belch... someone bring me some funny.

and he said....

2008-04-10T17:18:00.001Z

You don't need to change
A thing about you babe
I'm telling you from where I sit
You're one of a kind

Relationships I dont know why
They never work out and they make you cry
But the guy that says goodbye to you
is out of his mind

I've been down and I need your help
I've been feelin' sorry for myself
Don't hesitate to boost my confidence

Well I've been lost and I need direction
I could use a little love protection
What you say honey come to my defense

I stand up for you if it's what you need
And I can take a punch, I don't mind to bleed
As long as afterwards you feel bad for me

You give me all of your attention
I've got deep desire and it needs quenching
I that's pretty lame for you to see

well enough about me and more about you
Because that'd be the gentlemanly thing to do
I hope you like your men sweet and nice

I thought I was done with telling you
But I ain't nearly halfway through
I've got a few more things Id like to say to you

You dont need to change
A thing about you babe
I'm telling you from where I sit
You're one of a kind

Relationships I dont know why
They never work out and they make you cry
But the guy that says goodbye to you
is out of his mind, his mind

You always did kinda drive me crazy
And it pissed me off cuz I let it phase me
But I never wanted my time with you to end

Now I'm back in town for a day or two
Mostly I came back just to see you
And even now, I dont want to go

You dont need to change
A thing about you babe
I'm telling you from where I sit
You're one of a kind

Relationships I dont know why
They never work out and they make you cry
But the guy that says goodbye to you
is out of his mind

Stories for the insomniac Boyz and Gurlz

2008-04-10T08:21:00.000Z

It's 2:49 am and I've been awake now since a little after 1am.

I have been sick for 2.5 weeks... and just starting to feel better this evening, so what's my prize? Well a sleepless night of course!

UGH!

So what do you do when you can't sleep?

I decided I'd hop online since I really haven't been since monday.. oh yeah... I'm making all sorts of sense aren't I? Wooo hoooo.... wow... I'd really stop reading if I were you because it's NOT going to get any more entertaining from here on out.. I"m really just writing to hopefully maybe get some thoughts outta my head.. ya know.. kinda like that song... whatever it's called... ya know....
"2 AM and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, its no longer
inside of me, threatening the life they belong to
And i feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to"

I know that you'll use them however you want to..... I know that you'll use them however you want to.... *sigh*

Why are people so vindictive?

I'm not getting my thoughts out... fuck this sucks.. I have to get some sleep!!! Good lord... send me a pink pony with sparkly wings that poops sleeping pills so I can close my eyes and stop dreaming while I'm awake.... are you nuts? really? I wanna lay my head down and hear your heartbeat...

Whoo are you? WhooOOOOH!

Blarbby blarrbby blarbby blarb... I've got a loverly bunch of cocaNUTS doo doo doot dadodooooooooo.....

I suppose I could masturbate, I hear that's supposed to help you sleep... hmmmm.... I'm thinking of Guin right now.... Once upon a time, in the land of extreme sadness I was crippled by my tears and the loverly angel Guin was consoling me... she said "When you can't stop crying, masturbate." I wonder if that works for when you can't shut your brain off too?

See I don't think so...

"um.. excuse me Mr/Mrs. Universe? I'd really like to be sleeping right now, and I do know that when I have been in a relationship before and not sleeping, I tire myself out....well my partner AND myself out... ahem... but anyway... could you stop being so freaking cruel and leave me wide awake in the middle of the night with no "exercise" partner????!!!!

I am officially pissed off at you right now! Sticking my tongue out and all.. stopping my foot.. hands firmly on hips..... HURRRRRMPH!!!!!

AWwww... fuck fuck fuckity fuck!..... I picked up that saying while back stage for Black Comedy... I played Mrs. Furnival. It was a great role... good play... great ensemble cast thing.... but we would be backstage and always try to break each other right before our entrances on stage.. (I know uber professional) anyway... I mooned Tom, and he broke a little, not a lot, but behind me I hear in an exasperated whisper.. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck... from the stage manager... and I immediately thought OH SHIT... I've pissed off the Stage Manager... Not a good thing, because really they are the shit... they have your back, they have your props, they have your cues... yep not a good thing.... but luckily she thought I was funny, she was fuck fuck fuckity fucking the fact that her flashlight just died..... and that boys and girls is the story of fuck fuck fuckity fuck.... which brings me to the Jehovahs (however the fuck you spell that) witness that used to sit next to me at work (she's retired now) but she was uber religious of course, and well, let's face it, I'm not.... AND I swear.... AND I take the Lords name in vain.... (whatever that means) Well I used to say every once in a while under my breath the old "fuck fuck fuckity fuck" and she'd sit quietly and the most she'd ever do would be to sigh heavily... you know passive agressiveness at it's finest.

Well one day she had the idea of making a swear jar... every time you swore you had to put money in the jar, and of course I refused to play... or pay....

She decided she would pay for me.... I found this out one loverly afternoon while working, and something happened that I deemed necessary cause for a swear word and not 2 seconds later .... SMACK! Cold Metal hits me right on the forehead!!!!!

Yep... this good christian women was pelting me with quarters!!!!!

And that boys and girls is why you should always swear if you are in need of quarters for the soda machine, as I often find myself.... ahh... but now she's gone and I have to go to the soda machine and try to stick my crumpled up dollar bills in the changer thingy on the soda machine.... I don't know who invented that little piss me off and make my eyes bleed contraption, but thank you for adding to the frustration in offices, hospitals, and auto repair shops everywhere!!!!!

They should just put a midget in there instead, they can make change even if the dollar bill is crumpled.... (oh calm down... it's fucking 3:14 in the goddamn morning, I am NOT capable of being PC)

Hello... Mr./Ms. Univerise? I"M still awake!!!!

awwww... fuck fuck fuckity fuck!

This isn't working, I think I'll try Guin's advice.

2008-04-04T18:33:00.002Z

Do you ever find yourself thinking negatively... then saying to yourself...

"Self. That's enough of that shit, it's time to focus on the positive, cuz there's a lot of it."

.... only to find yourself less than 5 minutes later still obsessing on the obsession that doesn't even have enough of an effect on your life to be worthy of obsession status.. yet there you are... you and self... having it out... and god dammit I feel a little like Peter Pan chasing my shadow only it's even more elusive...the negative thoughts..... the negative me.

BASTAGE!!!!

It's too hard for me. (This is part 2 of "Hands")

2008-04-02T15:09:00.004Z

There we were, crying, hugging each other, while the other kids stared, pointed and snickered.

I was in the seventh grade, geeky, unsure of myself, constantly fighting with my alcoholic father, one moment feeling sorry for my mother, the next disgusted for her lack of self respect.

The one constant in my life, the one person that was near that I knew loved me unconditionally and showed it was just diagnosed with cancer. My mom, being more the child than the mother, just heard the news at the hospital where Ma had just gotten out of a surgery to remove a hernia that had bothered her for years. She drove immediately to my school and walked in crying uncontrollably and found me by my locker.

"She's just full of cancer Linda" she managed through sobs.

As I put my arms around her to console her, I felt the air leave my chest, and the fear take root.

"What?" I said barley audible.

"She's full of cancer, she's dying. She's going to die." She said loudly through tears and the snot running down her face.

I felt helpless. I felt smaller than I ever thought possible, I wanted to turn inside out and disappear, leave when she left, the one person I knew that loved me could not leave me... what would I do? Who would want me? Who would be there for me? Who would CARE about me?... my thoughts raced through my mind coming faster, spinning, I wanted to run.

The sound of snickering brought me back.

I looked around, I saw the laughing faces, the rolling eyes.... and I cried. I cried with my mom and let the hot tears sting my cheeks without moving to wipe them away. I had to get out of here, I had to get my mom out of here.

She never complained you know.

She went through a couple of years of chemo, but did not complain. Not through the vomiting, the hair loss, the massive weight loss, nothing.

We never painted our nails anymore.

I spent more time at her house than my own, mostly to escape my father. She knew it, and always tried to let me know that he was the bastard, it wasn't me. We would talk about everything, and nothing, and sometimes just sit together in silence, or like any typical teen I would veg out at the movies on TV.

One summer day she was at the kitchen table sewing. I walked in, and there she was, hands deformed by arthritis, her body brittle and small, ravaged by the ever present cancer, and she was grasping the cloth the best she could ripping out the seems she had just sewn in, as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Ma?... can I help you?"

"I just can't get it right, my hands don't work right anymore."

"Ma?.. can I help you?"

"No.. I need to do this. It has to get done."

"You're making more dish towels? You don't have to make those, we don't need anymore, or we can buy some."

She was sobbing softly now "I have to get these done I have to do it."

She wouldn't let me help her, and I was angry that she wouldn't just stop, I couldn't understand why she wouldn't just stop doing it, there was no reason for it.

She was moved to a nursing home later that year, and I visited only a handful of times.

It was too hard for me. It was too hard to see her like that, I wanted to remember her lively, silly, joking, laughing with me... not that hollowed out shell lying in pain on the nursing home bed. The last time I visited her I told her I got a great part in the one act play.

Me.

It was too hard for me.

She died there, while I was out celebrating Easter with my new escape, my new person I thought would love me my boyfriend whom I latched onto with everything I had.

It was too hard for me.

Years later, as I was at my wedding shower and the last gift was passed to me to open, I read the card.

"To Linda"
-"Love always, Ma"

As I tore open the wrapping paper I saw the dish towels that she had pushed herself to finish....she worked through the pain in her hands and body..... and my tears fell.... and I thought with regret, and shame, and pain that it was too hard for me.

I love you Ma.... Miss Ella Sophia Peterson... I am so sorry.

Hands

2008-04-01T19:45:00.002Z

It's her hands that I remember the most.

Not because her eyes didn't shine with the love she felt for me, or her smile wasn't warm and contagious, because they were, but it's her hands that after all of this time that I remember the most.

The fingernails always painted. A ritual she shared with my sister and I. It was a treat, and I can still smell the strong scent of polish as I see the memory in my minds eye. We'd sit at the small table in the tiny mid-west farm house that felt more like home than my own. She'd let us pick out a color and try to paint our own but was always there with help if we needed it. I was always fascinated by the ease in which she managed the brush spreading the color only on the nail and not the actual finger. To this day, I still think of her every time I paint my nails. In fact, now that I think about it I often find that when I feel lonely or aching for something I can't seem to name, I am often driven to find a new color at the local target.

I wonder... am I hoping that the as the new bright color spreads across my nail, hope and comfort will soon follow?

She wore rings you know.

A ring on almost every finger and she never took them off. It wasn't because she didn't wish to change them, but for the most part they had become part of her in more ways than one. In her old age, she became burdened with arthritis, and her knuckles became swollen and deformed and even though you could spin the rings round and round her weathered fingers you could not get them past her painful knuckles.

I would sit on her lap, and she would rest her hands in my lap her arms around me, and I was content for as long as she'd have me there. I would play with her hands, study the wrinkles and the lines, inspect with awe the gaudy giant rings and beg her to let me try them on. I remember pulling on the weathered skin, wondering why it was so "loose" I could squeeze it together to form a raised line on the back of her hand, and watch as it very slowly went back to it's normal shape.

"Ma? Why is your skin so loose? Look what I can do with it."

"Ahh." she'd grumble. "I'm old."

And it hit me.

It hit me with a force so hard it seemed I would never be able to catch another breath for as long as I lived. I was suffocating.

Some day she would not be here.

Some day I would be without her.

Some day I would not have her to love me, who's arms would comfort me then?

2006-06-29T20:51:00.000Z

Chronicles.... "Denial"

2006-06-08T20:52:00.000Z

Denial

Im not sure why, and right now Im wondering if its passed down from generation to generation or if it is fact nurture. But guilt and denial run rampant in the women in our family.

Im thinking it might be a little bit of both.

I have lived seeking confidence in how others view me, and paralyzed by the fear that somehow I am not good enough and unfortunately I think Ive learned this from my mother.

As a child I watched her be humiliated by my alcoholic father. He not only cheated on her but was verbally and physically abusive towards her. I dont think that this is an excuse for living my life a certain way, or continuing to make bad choices, but I do think that in the area of learning what relationships are or are supposed to be, I started at a slight disadvantage.

When things started to get to the point where I couldnt ignore them anymore with Edrick, I didnt even think of standing up for myself and telling him to fuck off. Instead I wondered what was wrong with me, why I wasnt good enough.

I remember being out with him at a restaurant or walking down the street, and he would brazenly gawk at other women. When Id ask him what he was looking at hed make up this ridiculous story about how he had done some really bad things when he lived by New Ulm, and people were out for him, so he needed to watch his back.
I said Oh theyre sending out attractive females to hurt you?
He replied through anger Theyre going to send people that wouldnt make me suspect them
(or some other bullshit like that).

He told me a story about one of his best friends, who was a girl, from his early teen years. She had a crush on one of the popular kids in school and eventually got to go on a date with this kid. After the date, the popular kid ridiculed her to the point of depression.

A few days later Edrick found the girl in the woods where they used to hang out.
She had locked herself into an abandoned car and set it on fire, killing herself.

Edrick and his best friend hatched a plan to make this guy pay for what he had done. He was a known drug user so they grabbed him one night and gave him an overdose of heroin. The authorities ruled it an accidental overdose, and essentially they got away with murder.

......Now you may be asking yourself what the hell I was thinking because obviously I didnt run away from him right then and there.

I dont know.

Looking back I remember thinking this has got to be a bullshit story. But why would anyone say anything like that? Trying to make himself seem bigger than life I suppose. Why did I stick around someone who would lie like that?

That sad part of the truth of this, is as bad as it was for him to lie, and as transparent as his lies were, I refused to see past them. I didnt want to think I had run from one bad situation directly into another, especially how shamefully I left the first one.

I didnt want to think that this person I had such a strong connection with could be as crappy as he was showing me he was. I wanted to believe that he was as wonderful as the connection or chemistry between us made me feel.

Basically I was looking outside of myself for my happiness, seeing only what I wanted to. I had an idea in my head of how he was, and damn it, he wasnt going to be this liar, this cheat that he was showing me he was... I wasnt going to see that and no one could make me.

But I did see.

I did feel.

And when I sat in silence with myself, I heard my screams.

I deserve better,

I am better,

and still I stifled it.

We were on again off again for another year. When I could no longer ignore who he was, when I had people telling me to my face that he was cheating, when I was ashamed to be around my friends, and the cast for the show I was in, I found myself once again looking at the face of the monsters within.

Chronicles.... "When We Met"

2006-06-07T19:50:00.000Z

When we met

I met him at the first rehearsal for “The Rocky Horror Show” I had gotten the lead and he was to play “Rocky”.

I was unimpressed the first time I saw him, I actually thought he looked a little like a monkey, and was too loud, trying too hard. But.... there was something about him. Something that made me want to know more, yet at the same time, there was this knowing, this feeling that he was.... well, wrong.

My first thoughts during that first rehearsal were that he was a player (which he turned out to be) insecure (which I still believe he is, and I felt bad for him) and immature.

Despite all of this, there was this “electricity” between us, this chemistry that everyone else around us felt and commented on.

I was at the end of a failing 7 year abusive marriage. I was depressed, and theatre was my life line, it was the only reason I had for getting up each morning. I had been in 7 productions in the last year, trying to hold onto my passion for life, trying to run from the monsters within. I didn’t know it then, but I was running toward them at the speed of light.

Everyone thought Edrick and I were an item before anything had actually happened, I loved the idea of it. Being around him was like being energized, seeing things for the first time again. He made me feel like I was the most beautiful, amazing woman in the world.

I cheated on my husband with Edrick one night after rehearsal. He called me the next day and my husband answered the phone. I couldn’t believe it. I was sick to my stomach. I couldn’t believe this was my life. I was cheating. I wasn’t happy, the counseling had failed, the abuse had continued, and I had found another way out. Edrick.

I am not proud of how I exited that marriage. Yes he was abusive, yes he was cheating too (which I only came to find out about after I left), but that doesn’t make it ok for me to do what I did, and I am deeply sorry for how I finally left. That said, I do not regret leaving, I should’ve left long before I actually did.

I told my husband I had met someone else, packed my two suitcases and left (for the 3rd and final time). I was too ashamed to stay at my friends, and already addicted to Edrick. I moved in with him and his roommate until I found a job and an apartment.

This was at the end of October, by the middle of November he proposed (to which I thought he had to be joking) and by the end of November Edrick was sleeping with his ex J., telling me they were just friends. I knew in my heart he was cheating, but I didn’t want to believe it. Or maybe I thought I deserved it for how I left my husband.

There were plenty of signs, if I would have only actually looked, and been willing to see.

He said J. couldn’t know about me “because it would hurt her too much”
He could explain anything away, or rather I let him.

I listened to everything he told me, and wanted to believe him.

I found another place to live but still stayed with him most of the time, or he stayed at my new place.
We eventually moved into a house together, and things got worse.

He was cheating on 3 of us; me, J and another girl “T”, and who knows how many others.

T. and I eventually became friends, and still are to this day. I have been ashamed to be around T for a very long time. And I didn’t realize that was why I was avoiding her. But in the last year I looked at the situation, quieted myself, and realized I was embarrassed that I was still involved with him.

She was strong, wasn’t fooled by his lies, and had enough self respect to tell him to get bent when he treated her shitty, and when she found out what he was telling me, while he was sleeping with her.

I wanted to be her for that moment. For as much as I talked big about how I was going to dump him and never ever go back when we had our little talk and found out the lies he was telling both of us, I didn’t. I went back, felt shitty every time I saw him, but did it anyway. I’m still not sure why. That part I have not figured out yet, and I need to.

I think I’m getting closer to that every day.

Preface to "The Chronicles I wish were of Narnia!"

2006-06-06T15:56:00.000Z

I believe life puts before us things that if we work on will make us stronger better people.

I believe that we have or feel instant connections with certain people because of this. That said, sometimes there are people that you seek out that you want to journey this life with, and others are put before you to challenge you, to discover something about yourself or your life, and move on. The catch is, to me, sometimes you can’t tell the difference, but you can tell the connection. I also believe that if you don’t get things worked out, and struggle your way through it you will continue to meet the same type of person over and over until you have succeeded in the area you need to.

I believe there is a lesson put before me in Eric, the ex before him and the ex before him, etc. You see they all are very similar in nature. They are not here for me to say what’s wrong with them, but to see what is truly within me.

My best friend and I were talking one day about what I liked so much about the guys I’ve dated. One of my responses was “I love when they can look at you and make you feel like you are the best/prettiest/most amazing person in the world”

She promptly responded with “Hmm... yeah, I don’t get that, because I do that for myself”

I was floored, I had an “Oprah Ah Ha Moment” if you will.

I mean really... why did I look to others for that? I will never find that in someone else, it’s within me. I want to make sure I raise boo with that confidence, that strength, and so far so good. She looked at me this morning and said the best thing I have ever heard her say. We were talking about what she wanted to do with her hair this morning, I had aksed if she wanted her hair a certain way “like faiths” and she said... “No mama, I wanna look like ME!”

I believe the connection that I felt for Eric is more about me than it is about who he is as a person. I am at fault for letting him treat me the way he did, and for taking him back each time he treated me like shit. The first time was his bad, the following times were because of my lack of confidence in myself, my non-existant (at the time) sense of being the person I truly am. I see who he is as a person, and I don’t like him. I didn’t act on that, but the feeling of this connection with him, I thought it meant we were supposed to be together. I have grown a lot since I met him 6 years ago, I have surrounded myself with strong, caring, amazing individuals, who I am blessed to be able to call friends.

I am writing these “Chronicles” as more of a release for myself. And who knows maybe I will find something else in there that I’ve overlooked, and learn more about myself in the process. Please remember when you are reading these, (if you choose to :-P ) that it’s in the past, it may sound like the pain is new and fresh, but it’s my story... my release.

Harmony Park

2006-05-30T19:52:00.000Z

I had the most amazing weekend.

Camping at Harmony Park for the Big Wu Family Reunion.

I'll post more about it later, when I get more pics.

oh.

and.... "Clouds, are COOL!"

One night...

2006-05-11T02:00:00.000Z

There are some nights that are just too painful to think that you might just actually make it through them without going mental, and then, there are those nights that you can't believe it's 2 am and time to go home, cuz it feels like you just started out.

Cocky Bastard, and Nick the Dick
We saw these guys and I thought that the guy in the green shirt, must be a cocky bastard, But... cute. Mary decided she should explain this to him, and a couple of minutes later he walked up to me and introduced himself as "Cocky Bastard" to which I replied "Hi, I'm Judgemental Bitch"

"Um you bite what?"

This man, (otherwise known as Mary's Stalker) was extremely friendly, and was funny as hell when he was telling the story of the squirrel that broke into his apartment. But~ when he started to wonder outloud why not one girl he's given his phone number to in the last six months has returned his phone call, it started to get weird. Mary being the kind heart she is must have decided he needed to be saved, because she kept up the conversation, in which he started talking about biting.. you know... like vampires......

John Goodman's brother and the 3rd George Bush

Mr. John Goodman's brother is one smooooooth fellow. He tapped me on the shoulder as I was sitting next to him, with my back towards him at the bar and said "would you stop bumping into me" (I wasn't even close to him) He asked me what I did for a living, I told him I'm a graphic artist, and he insisted I was much to pretty, much better than that. So then he put his hand on my arm and said "Wow, you're strong"
And in my most serious voice I said, "Well, my secret's out, I'm actually a professional arm wrestler"
He was so impressed that later he had to introduce me to GWB the 3rd... who seems to be either sweating in odd spots or spills drinks frequently, or maybe he passed out to close to a urinal... ewwwww...

The awesome part is Cocky Bastard, and Nick the Dick turned out to be extremely cool guys, and I blame them for my pain......Seriously my cheeks hurt from laughing.

Why you may ask did I laugh so much?

We played such great games as show me your hottest look, which resulted in this:
Nick's sexy look

Bitch and the Bastard

The Bastard and the Dick

The Dick, the Bitch and the Bastard

It was a fun night, it was worth only getting a couple hours of sleep!

Mary and I, as always... good times

2006-03-16T02:21:00.000Z

2006-03-16T01:54:00.000Z

Tina

2006-03-16T01:39:00.000Z

I just have to say

2006-03-14T21:50:00.000Z

it sucks that when i sit on the toliet at work.....my feet don't touch the floor. (Newer toilet)

at home, (my apt.) no problem. (Older toilet)

SO.....

Are they trying to phase peeing out for short people?

2006-02-28T14:03:00.000Z

2006-02-28T13:54:00.000Z

What's the deal?

2006-02-21T14:56:00.000Z

As I sit at my desk in front of my computer and sip my coffee I have one of "those" moments.

Now you may ask yourself... "what do you mean by one of "those" moments?"

Well my dear friends... let me tell you.

I'm working, like normal, doing a boring small adjustment task, and I suppose I was thinking.... this is such a small task, surely I can do it and take a sip of coffee at the same time.

This my friends is where I was wrong.

It's almost like every once in a while your body decides to fuck with you just a little. You know, you're doing something you've done a million times before without problems, and most times with the grace of a ballerina... the ease of an olympic athelete... the confidence of a.. ah... ah .. confident person.

*ahem*
(obviously the power of speech is failing me as well)
*ahem*

Back to the point at hand...
I take a sip of my coffee (which by the way I did with as much success and confidence as any actress in a foldgers commercial) and as I'm taking the coffee cup away from my mouth something odd happens.... for some reason my brain has failed to tell my hand to tip the cup back to it's locked and upright position and coffee pours all the way from my boobs, the keyboard, and back to where I set my cup.

Clearly this is my body's joke of the day.
I wonder how long it plotted this.

Scientists discover new species of assassin spiders

2006-02-17T20:37:00.000Z

Oh yeah.. this is all I need!

This conjours images of the previously posted ( a july post) about spider army that follows me, cheering in praise... calling out to their colleague to come and assinate their arch nemisis poor little ol' ME!

I mean really think about it.... This spider assassin has managed to stay hidden, like GOOD assassins do for how many years?

HOLY CRAP!

Maybe they have been hidden, but the evil spider army has now summoned them and that's how they were found out!!!!

I'm gonna die.

Die a horrible death, assassinated by a freaky spider.

2006-02-17T02:29:00.000Z

2006-02-17T02:28:00.000Z

mmm.. sexy goodness

2006-02-16T14:52:00.000Z

Most days, I think I do all right in the looks department.

I'm not a girly girl in the sense that I have to wake up 2 hours before I have to leave in order to get my hair and make up just perfect. In fact I'm pretty much the opposite.

I have good intentions, I mean before I go to sleep I'll set the alarm for 45 minutes before I'm supposed to leave thinking I'll have time to do something with my hair, and perhaps put on some mascara. But it never fails... the alarm goes off, I wake up out of a dream I don't want to, look at the alarm clock in disgust, and listen to the oh too chipper DJ's talking about something I don't really care about.

Then comes the ritual conversation in my head.

"Ok, get up"

"No"

"yeah, come on... it's time to get up, if you get up now you can have a long hot shower, maybe even shave your legs."

"Oh fuck the shaving my legs...it's not like I'm having sex anytime soon"

"Oh now you did it... that's a depressing thought... yeah, stay in bed.. 5 more min"

"No really, I should get up, I should face the day with a positive attitude, if I get up now I could at least have a quick shower, and put some lotion on before I do make-up"

"Who cares about moist soft skin, it's not summer yet, and reallly, no sex.. remember?"

"Shit... ok.. 5 more minutes".....

"WAKE UP! it's been 15 minutes!"

"Crap"

Thus begins the day of rushing to the bathroom, quick shower, brush teeth, put neccessary hair concoction on hair so I don't look like a walking qu-tip, and if I'm lucky some mascara. Well.. maybe if the rest of the people I come in contact with are lucky, cuz really... I don't care. I've actually always been a little pissed that women are supposed to put on make-up to become more attractive. I mean, what the hell? If we're gonna play by the rules then in all fairness men should have to wear make-up too, their skin isn't perfect, maybe not eyeshadow and mascara but a little blemish control might come in handy.

But I digress....

Anyway.. the point of this little story is I got to work today, after a quick shower, and a little mascara, and thought to myself as I sat here waiting for work to come in that I could use a little lotion. I actually patted myself on the back a little for using time management skills. I mean really.. I got to sleep an extra 5 minutes, got my shower, got to work only 3 minutes late, and I have lotion in my desk, well it's not actually on my desk, it's sitting in a bottle on my desk... so as I wait for my work to come in I can take that time to moisturize, in case someday I might get some.

As I put lotion on my hands and still no work had appeared I thought "Oh, I should really moisturize my legs too" so I rolled up my jeans (YAY Flare jeans) and proceed to put lotion on.

Now this right here my friends is where I had an ephiphany.

As I looked down at my glow in the dark white hairy legs, my white sweat socks that go all the way up to my knee (it's cold out there folks) my black shoes... I started to laugh. I mean now this is some sexy goodness happening right here.

If you are brave click the picture for a closeup of the sexiness... but the poster is not responsible for any retna damage that may occur.

I think tomorrow I'll make a better attempt to get up when the alarm goes off.

2006-02-10T02:46:00.000Z

GOODBYE

2006-02-02T14:45:00.000Z

So dear friends.. it seems one of our be-loved has chosen to vacate... packin' up and movin' out....

Miss Jen Taylor is heading for New Orleans.
http://mrffriends.tripod.com/pages_people/taylor.html

Please join Orley and I as we host a little soiree n : a party of people assembled in the evening (usually at a private house) , or in this case a private place like the '90s? to say goodbye to our good friend Jen, THIS SATURDAY the 4th

We plan on meeting around 9pm upstairs for good times, drinks and laughter....

And why yes.. yes there IS a theme... Cajun.. New Orleans... like... think of it.. and wear what you will... I plan on attending in a cowboy hat and rain boots thank you very much!

I know this is short notice, but Miss Jen hasn't given us much time as she is leaving next week. So... please join us in sending her off with an amazing time and good memories!!

esssssss -----eeeeeeee------eexxxxxxxxxx!

2006-02-01T20:36:00.000Z

All right.

That's it.

I have been without the sex for far too long now.

Do you want to know how I know?

Weeelllll.. let me tell you.

I have a few things that have started to happen to me recently that can only be explained by lack of sex.. seriously there are no other logical explanations. It's like a whole new symptom checklist....

First.. it's not too much sex that makes you hard of hearing, it's the lack of. I swear to goddess that everytime someone says something I hear something completely different.

Hell no! you say?

Well for example... my co-worker says "Jesus Christ I fucking hate that guy"
and I HEAR "What's with this jiz cream?" not even remotely close... I know!
I have not listened to louder than normal music lately, nor been to a concert....it can only be attributed to my lack of sex.

Second... I was reading items for sale in the classifieds, and I thought it said "CALL Girl Barbie", but no folks... it was "C-a-l-i Barbie"

*whew... *

Granted somehow most Barbies look like call girls... or DO they? SHIT! maybe that's lack of sex too?

Two and a Half... CONFUSION.... THE LACK OF CONCENTRATION...

Third... Dreaming is something I fear. I used to have those strange dreams about flying or work, or scarey spiders... but now.... my GAWD! Now I wake up exhausted cuz I was having hot monkey sex all night long, and wake up to find it was only a dream, and wanting it more than ever!!! THIS IS DEFINITELY caused by lack of sex.

Fourth... even remotely attractive men are becoming greek gods....

Somebody stop me.. before I succumb completely to this.

2006-01-30T21:55:00.000Z

I am.

I ache.

I dream.

I wake.

I ....

The games we play

2006-01-24T21:34:00.000Z

I went out by myself this last Saturday night, which is not unlike me really.

In fact I like to go out alone.

I get to do whatever strikes my fancy at the moment.. the way I prefer to live life, and right now being the sole parent of a two year old, going out for a couple of hours on a Saturday night is about as good as it gets.

I started off, just rambling.. bumming.. checked out a couple of stores...yes.. shopping
Now, for those of you who don't know me.. shopping has never been my thing. But let me tell you, to do it sans child is something to savor.. so I did.. and enjoyed it for about an hour. That's it.

and then I thought I should go to a movie

I drove to the theatre, and I am not exaggerating, I could not find a parking space.. not one! It's not that I was being lazy and didn't want to walk.. I seriously could not find a spot!

FINE! I'll guess I'm supposed to do something else..

So I headed off to the bar in town that "resembles" an irish pub, and had some great food, sat at the bar, enjoying my yummy supper and grey goose dirty martini... (yes folks, I can drink 'em at the bar, just don't ask me to make ONE at home.. see previous post on martinis)

The bartender couldn't seem to get over the fact that I was there alone.

I really don't see what the big deal was. It just must be how people view things. One of my favorite things to do when I'm at a new place is to "get lost".. just wander off by myself and see what happens. FREEDOM....

Anyway.

I ended up meeting a group of guys that were HI-Larious.. and joined them at their table and had great conversations and a couple of bottington pints...

I gave my number to one of the guys.. it's always good to have friends, and meet people.. and he was kinda cute...but he's called 5 times since I met him on Saturday night.....

that's a little much

Ahhh... well... the drawbacks.. are far and few between I guess...still wouldn't trade the night.

Restless

2006-01-23T16:27:00.000Z

not bee in a jar restless, cuz I'm exhausted.. but

... restless....

what's missing?

what am I needing to pay attention to, or running from?

....restless...

um...?

2006-01-20T19:23:00.000Z

I will regret posting this in the morning

2006-01-20T09:01:00.000Z

1:30 am.. the people I rent from who live upstairs decide it's a good time to start some remodeling work.

2 am.. still working... me not sleeping ... so I get online.

Ex.. who's in Iraq starts IMing me, scratch that, I started by telling him I got his laptop to his father, so he wouldn't have an excuse to call me.

I'm frustrated... that I even play into his shit, but I had nothing better to do at 3 am.......mostly just tired, and it's a little amusing to my closests friends.. but I'm too tired to figure that out, and the how you cut things stuff.. so sorry. just scroll on by it's just a lame IM conv. between a very tired chick and her ex. AND I was being a snot... this is not how adults should talk... but I've tried that route with him, now it's just... well... the following:

Linda says: (2:05:36 AM) i gave your laptop to your parents

Ebbs says: (2:05:55 AM) HI!!!

Ebbs says: (2:06:10 AM) thanks... my dad is going to use it when he drives down to AZ

Ebbs says: (2:06:14 AM) how are you doing?

Linda says: (2:06:30 AM) that's what he said, as he asked for thepower supply...

Linda says: (2:06:37 AM) tired

Ebbs says: (2:07:09 AM) I bet... its like 2 in the morning there isn't it?

Linda says: (2:07:16 AM) yes

Ebbs says: (2:08:27 AM) so whats new/

Linda says: (2:09:05 AM) nothing......i thought you didn't get internet where you are at now

Ebbs says: (2:09:39 AM) not in my room. but we have it now at the flight line and its raining so we cannot fly

Ebbs says: (2:09:42 AM) so here I sit

Linda says: (2:10:15 AM) oh

Ebbs says: (2:10:43 AM) I am working on getting us internet at our rooms though

Ebbs says: (2:10:58 AM) how is our baby doing?

Linda says: (2:11:10 AM) she is fine

Linda says: (2:12:53 AM)
why do you have to word it that way... I mean, why can't you just ask how ella is? Is it to get a rise out of me? Cuz really so far in her life,the only time she's been "our" baby is when you wanted to actually be a part of her life, other than that, you couldn't find much time for her... it just really pisses me off and makes me sick to my stomach

Ebbs says: (2:15:05 AM) well I am sorry... I am not trying to get a rise out of you.

Ebbs says: (2:17:32 AM) And when did I now want her a part of my life?

Linda says: (2:17:53 AM) ?

Ebbs says: (2:18:21 AM) sorry... when did I not want her a part of my life?

Linda says: (2:20:26 AM)
when we were together you never had any time for her, and when we split you would have to "find out what's going on yet" before you would make plans to see her on the weekend, and you didn't make much of an effort to see her during the week... you never called to ask to spend time with her.. I always called to see if you wanted to...to which you replied with the above statement

Linda says: (2:20:47 AM) I mean really, I'm not going into all of this again... you know what you've done/or haven't done

Linda says: (2:20:58 AM) I just wanted an answer to the question

Ebbs says: (2:24:33 AM) Linda... you wanted me out and I had to start from scratch... find a place, get set up, then I had to sell my stuff and beg jobs off Fred to make ends meet. It wasn't like I was avoiding her or not wanting to

Ebbs says: (2:25:20 AM) look... it is in the past... I, nor you can change it.

Linda says: (2:25:22 AM) whatever Eric... you were trying to find out what your friends were doing on the weekends..

Ebbs says: (2:25:47 AM) friends... like who?

Linda says: (2:25:50 AM) fuck.... you didn't want to be with her on halloween, cuz "you didn't know what was going on yet"

Linda says: (2:25:55 AM) whatever eric

Ebbs says: (2:26:14 AM) no... that one you where right on

Linda says: (2:26:21 AM) who knows... maybe some new online lifestyle dates you were making? I dont' really fucking care

Ebbs says: (2:26:38 AM) good... then let it go

Ebbs says: (2:26:54 AM) because I have

Linda says: (2:26:54 AM) just for once for fucking once admit the truth

Ebbs says: (2:27:02 AM) becasue I want to move on

Ebbs says: (2:27:12 AM) because I want an us

Linda says: (2:27:14 AM) and stop pouring on the "our" baby shit

Ebbs says: (2:27:23 AM) because you are worth it

Linda says: (2:27:39 AM) Yes I am worth it, but you aren't.

Ebbs says: (2:27:50 AM) wow

Linda says: (2:28:15 AM) You don't deserve me... you've used up your chances and treated me like shit... out of chances.. move on

Ebbs says: (2:28:57 AM) didnt know marrage came with a set number of chances... was that in our wedding vows? I dont think it was..

Ebbs says: (2:29:05 AM) I know forever no matter what was

Linda says: (2:29:09 AM) oh hell no

Linda says: (2:29:18 AM) we are not going through this again

Ebbs says: (2:29:24 AM) look linda, its like this

Ebbs says: (2:29:51 AM) things have to change

Linda says: (2:30:10 AM) LIAR... = broken relationship

Linda says: (2:30:32 AM) I'm going to bed

Ebbs says: (2:30:35 AM) and broken relationship = work on it

Linda says: (2:30:59 AM) NO. Not when you repeatedly do the same shit over and over again...

Linda says: (2:31:02 AM) NO.

Ebbs says: (2:31:15 AM) that is why things have to change.

Linda says: (2:31:20 AM) You just don't get it do you?

Ebbs says: (2:31:29 AM) and there is no way for me to show you that till I get home

Linda says: (2:31:32 AM) yeah, you have to change for Ella

Ebbs says: (2:32:19 AM) quite frankly linda YOU dont get it.... Yes I am the reason we have problems, and I have to be the one that changes to fix it.

Linda says: (2:32:22 AM) there is no relationship between us, save for we are both ellas parents which means we need to be cival to each other, and do what's best for her

Ebbs says: (2:32:54 AM) right... which on the best end of the scale is work out our problems someday

Linda says: (2:33:02 AM) it's 2:30am I can't spell

Linda says: (2:33:41 AM) work out our problems so we are not fighting around her.

Ebbs says: (2:33:51 AM) yep

Linda says: (2:33:53 AM) there will never be a relationship other than that between you and I

Ebbs says: (2:34:21 AM) not with that attiude... and I understand fully why you have it.

Linda says: (2:34:33 AM) OMG! What world do you live in?

Ebbs says: (2:35:17 AM) the same one you live in

Linda says: (2:35:24 AM) um.. no.

Ebbs says: (2:35:41 AM) have you read the invitation lately?

Linda says: (2:36:15 AM) ?

Ebbs says: (2:36:29 AM) it doesnt interst me....

Ebbs says: (2:36:55 AM) I have been carrying it with me for the majority of the deployment...

Linda says: (2:36:56 AM) yes actually I have... YOU don't interest me.

Ebbs says: (2:37:05 AM) LOL

Linda says: (2:37:13 AM) You are a pathological liar

Ebbs says: (2:38:07 AM) yes I am... and I have been working on that and fighting it

Ebbs says: (2:39:22 AM) so I have been carrying it around for the better part of the deployment and reading it from time to time

Linda says: (2:39:47 AM) super, I'm going to bed

Ebbs says: (2:40:08 AM) and since I have been promoted I have been spending the marjority of my off time alone

Linda says: (2:40:42 AM) cuz no one wants to be around a pathological liar

Ebbs says: (2:40:49 AM) LOL nope

Ebbs says: (2:40:54 AM) nice dig though

Linda says: (2:41:03 AM) thanks, I try

Ebbs says: (2:41:52 AM) but anyway. I have to keep the professional from the private and I cannot do that by hanging around with the jr. soldiers

Linda says: (2:42:41 AM) wow, that's a step.. your friends of choice are usually the teens

Linda says: (2:42:53 AM) easier to influence

Ebbs says: (2:43:29 AM) so the part that says I want to know if you will stand in the cneter of the fire with me and not shrink back... I am sorry I didn't do that for you

Ebbs says: (2:44:03 AM) so whats up? what happend that you need to rip on me?

Linda says: (2:44:09 AM) um.....right

Linda says: (2:44:45 AM) all the asshole things you've done to me, and I rip on you and you have to ask why?

Linda says: (2:44:47 AM) Really?

Ebbs says: (2:44:52 AM) well... you only contact me when you want something or need someone to kick... so what is wrong?

Linda says: (2:45:40 AM) you wanted me to give your laptop to your dad... I just told you it's done...

Ebbs says: (2:46:11 AM) oh... ok. Well I am here to talk... I need to run to a meeting right now though...

Linda says: (2:46:18 AM) then you pissed me off with the "our" thing, and it's almost 3am, need more?

Linda says: (2:46:24 AM) goodbye

The story of a girl

2006-01-19T15:27:00.000Z

Once upon a time there was a girl who loved making people laugh.

She would try anything, push the limits, just to make someone smile. Because when she did, she found that she in turn would smile.. Everywhere. And it was good, the best feeling in the world.

She grew up in a small midwest town where people are conservative, and seemed only to see themselves and their immediate surroundings. She detested this. It frustrated her to no end. How in the world can people think that this is all there is to life? How can people be born, raised and die in the same small town? That's certainly NOT living, she thought to herself. I will NEVER die here.

She lived on a farm on the outskirts of a town with a population of approximately 800 people. 4 miles out. At times this seemed like light years away, and at others it wasn't far enough.

After school she was responsible for chores, the feeding and watering horses mostly. And as she would do these chores her 7 year old mind would wander. She would think of the comedians she had watched on late night TV, and think.. I could do that.. I mean, really they just take some normal aspect of life and look at the odd ways people deal with or complete tasks, or why they even take them on. So she would talk to the horses.. and when she couldn't think of anything clever to say, she would sing to them. She would stay out in the horse pasture until dark most nights, dreaming of what amazing things she would accomplish in her life in some exotic place.. someplace far way from the constant fighting of her parents.

As she grew into her pre-teen years, the town seemed to grow smaller.

She hated it more with each passing year, and yet, in the same breath, knew she would be completely different if she was growing up in a larger city. She felt restless, she wanted to move, to travel, to try things that good girls wouldn't dream of. She knew for certain if she were in a bigger city, she wouldn't make it past the age of 15.

Art for Silent Auction

2006-01-10T19:41:00.000Z

Bedtime story from a 2 year old

2006-01-07T21:16:00.000Z

These three audio posts are of my boo, telling me her bedtime story. Start at the bottom and work your way up.

2006-01-07T02:56:00.000Z

2006-01-07T02:51:00.000Z

What's your take?

2006-01-06T20:02:00.000Z

I just went for a walk, and we walk by our small town theatre, and I saw the poster for the movie Hostel.
I came back looked it up on the net, cuz I hadn't heard of it yet.. and I like scary movies.

http://www.apple.com/trailers/lions_gate/hostel/large.html

Couldn't tell much from the trailer, but it started a big debate at work.

"Oh great now they're giving these sick bastards more ideas!"

"No, the sick bastards already have these ideas."

"Oh I'm sure not all of them.. movies like that just give people more ideas, and more want to do those things"

Now.. I believe that if a person is a killer, they will probably already have thought of these things and worse (I haven't seen the movie, I'm guessing) and if you're an average person, who likes scary movies.. this movie or any other horror flick is not going to MAKE you kill/torture anyone.

It's the same old argument anytime a movie like this pushes the envelope.

I do believe we get less and less sensitive to violent things that we should be outraged by, but I don't think it makes anyone think that it's ok to do.

But then I remember this....
I had a friend who took a class in which they showed crime scenes, and then showed hardcore porn images...ya know.. the snuff films... the crime scenes had mimicked the porn flicks. And yes, the porn films were made before the crimes were committed.

I think if you're going to get upset by it, don't watch it.
But if you believe what was taught in my friends college course... then everyone should be upset by this and anyother horror flick of this type.

I'm not sure where I stand. I'm not against horror flicks.. as I said above I like them.
The facts that were taught in my friends class make me sick to my stomach, but in my heart of hearts I believe that the person(s) who committed those crimes would have committed the rape/murder without the snuff films.. probably just in another sick violent way.

Thoughts?

FW:

2005-12-12T00:59:00.000Z

Something for your spare time

2005-12-09T15:27:00.000Z

http://www.spiritcaller.net/gaybar.htm

This one just made me giggle!

http://www.spiritcaller.net/lotion.htm

This one Orley turned me onto.. the song... here's the video for it!
Ms. Orley beware.. it's movie clips.

I've just been informed.....

2005-12-08T21:51:00.000Z

... that my "man picker is broke"

words of wisdom people are spewed forth in this world with reckless abandon!

must fix "man picker"

... is there a man picker fixer?

Hummmm....

Mood:amused
Music:Kings of Conveinence ~ Leaning against the wall

I'm so angry

2005-12-08T15:55:00.002Z

I don't know why really, it's not like it new information that I've just discovered... well, kinda new, but not "new"

Boo's dad cheats, thus we are no longer together, well it's not really THAT simple but yeah.

Anyway I was going to sell the laptop he was using that I paid for and before I did that I wanted to get all the old pics and stuff off of there, and I told the tech person to see if they could decode some of his IM's just incase there was any juicy info I could get for future use if push came to shove with parental issues.

He is the most insane person! here's just a little bit of ONE of his conversations from a chic he met on a dating site (yes folks WHILE we were married!)

WARNING VERY LONG... but somewhat amusing.. especially to those of you who know him

SHIT I can't get the textedit doc to show in here!!!!

Basics.. he's telling this woman he's an international man of mystery.. james bond like... that he has two houses (apts.) and is getting his masters degree... (he's never even started college!)

ANYWAY.. Orley I emailed it to you.. anyone want it.. that knows me/him.. I'll gladly share!!! :-P

2005-12-02T14:06:00.000Z

In chicago

2005-12-02T13:59:00.000Z

Breakfast in chicago

Wild Beastie

2005-11-22T16:44:00.000Z

In some cultures people put small houses at the end of their property that resemble their house.

This is to deter evil spirits from posessing them.

I wish I would have put one out on Sunday.

My usually silly, sweet, munchkin came running at me teeth barred, lips pulled back in a snarl, hands curled up by her face like little claws and eyes wild...

You see I took the phone back from her to talk to my mom, after she wasn't responding to her anymore.

Apparently the 5 times I asked her if she was done talking to gramma wasn't good enough, and didn't give her enough time to make up her mind.

So if it's not too late for some of you... Put the replica of your house out NOW!

Please I beg of you... before it's too late!

AHHHHHHHHHH it's B-A-C-K!!!... .. quick......
save yourselves........
Oh god, no!!!
No...................................

current mood: mischievous
current music: Michael Franti & Spearhead- What I be