So, she's staying through at least the health crisis and recovery. We've been able to have some honest conversations about what this means, and how we can better communicate and, most importantly, how we can get out of each other's hair. Back in the day, when I lived with Momma, we lived in her house, which is about 5000 square feet. I pretty much had an apartment to myself in the basement. This made it much easier to enjoy each other's company, and to get away when we needed to.
Now, we're in my 1500 square foot apartment, and while that sounds PLENTY big, there's really not a lot of living space. So for almost a week, we've been under each other's foot, and it's been tricky.
Tomorrow we're going to buy furniture for my guest room, so I can have my room back, and she can have her own space.
Different (yet related) topic:
My cat has apparently been using said guest bedroom for his personal place to be ill. I just spent about an hour cleaning up about 15 different places where he's been sick. There's a product called Spot Shot which works like a gem for such messes. Any of you with pets, children, or an inability to hold a drink upright should really buy this stuff. You only need a paper towel to clean up the mess.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
Permission
So after telling the boy, end over end, that I write about him, I'm now allowed to refer to him by name. I still don't want to, because I like this version better, plus, I am endlessly jealous, and don't want anyone else to hunt him down.
In the boy part, he sent me this link tonight: Dionaea House. I've read through it, but not closely. My thoughts are mostly Blair Witch, and also, WHAT?
And that's one of the many reasons that I adore him. He gives me intrigue, and interest, and makes me laugh harder than anyone else.
I also had to confess tonight to Momma that I write about her. She gave me the death glare (damn, she's good at that) and told me that once it's posted, it can never be taken down. Then she got over it, and realized that her daughter just does what she does.
Also, thank you, Wade, for allowing me to talk about you.
Yea? Or bad? How many repercussions have you had for writing?
In the boy part, he sent me this link tonight: Dionaea House. I've read through it, but not closely. My thoughts are mostly Blair Witch, and also, WHAT?
And that's one of the many reasons that I adore him. He gives me intrigue, and interest, and makes me laugh harder than anyone else.
I also had to confess tonight to Momma that I write about her. She gave me the death glare (damn, she's good at that) and told me that once it's posted, it can never be taken down. Then she got over it, and realized that her daughter just does what she does.
Also, thank you, Wade, for allowing me to talk about you.
Yea? Or bad? How many repercussions have you had for writing?
Thursday, August 28, 2008
I Blame Dooce, Or My Addiction To Reading Her Site
Remember how much time I spent worrying about too honest on this little experiment of mine? Apparently I shot that right down.
I was just reading the most current page of el Blogo, and I saw that I've been writing about things that are much more personal about my life. And as I entitled, I blame Dooce.
When I find a blog I like, I read it from beginning to end. The downside of my most recent reading obsession is that she's been blogging for about 7 years. This gives me a whole lot to catch up on. One of my favorite things about her site is just how open she is about her life, her thoughts, her silliness. So, after reading her site for a couple of weeks now, I guess it's rubbed off.
Normally, I mention the boy and the intricacies that are my life in cryptic terms (Hi, G!). Now, I find that I just need to ramble to y'all and that's what I do.
Golly, I look forward to the repercussions.
I was just reading the most current page of el Blogo, and I saw that I've been writing about things that are much more personal about my life. And as I entitled, I blame Dooce.
When I find a blog I like, I read it from beginning to end. The downside of my most recent reading obsession is that she's been blogging for about 7 years. This gives me a whole lot to catch up on. One of my favorite things about her site is just how open she is about her life, her thoughts, her silliness. So, after reading her site for a couple of weeks now, I guess it's rubbed off.
Normally, I mention the boy and the intricacies that are my life in cryptic terms (Hi, G!). Now, I find that I just need to ramble to y'all and that's what I do.
Golly, I look forward to the repercussions.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
So, I'm Probably Evil And Self-Absorbed...
It's been 24 hours with Momma staying here. We've had a nice time; last night we stayed up late, talking and watching Hillary on the DNC. The whole point (for Momma) was watching for the mayoral results here. Mine was, well, Hillary. The most interesting part was that she got so distracted by Hillary's speech that she failed to notice that there will be a mayoral runoff here. Go, Hillary!
Today I had to go to the parents' house to pick up a few things that Momma had forgotten. My dad mentioned that he had picked up Momma's dry cleaning, and while I thought of that as I did a version of Supermarket Sweep through the house while my friend kept my dad occupied outside the house, I didn't pick it up. The reason I didn't is because Momma told me she planned to stay until the weekend, and then see what happens.
So I get home and I tell Momma about the dry cleaning. She says that she wishes that I had grabbed her dry cleaning, because she's got nothing to wear to work next week.
NEXT WEEK!!! She's planning on staying through next week? Umm. Uh-oh. OK. WHAT?
I love that she's feeling strong enough to leave her husband (ick) of almost 47 years. It's not been terrible all the time, but it's been bad for a long time. I've wanted her to leave (see below). I'm proud of her feeling like she has control of her own destiny.
Herein lies the problem. HER destiny, not mine. So now I've got my mother as an apparently perma-roommate? Her little comments about how she thinks I have no life hurt, but, at the same time, are not my issue; I can tell they're about her need to control, since she's had none for years.
But I already miss my privacy, my time on the phone with friends, my TV choices, and my bed. I wonder what will happen. I'm certain that if this goes on for (oh, God) a few weeks, it won't end well. I don't want to be the reason she feels like she has to go back to my dad.
Is this the split between parent and child that happens to most everyone else when they're like, in their 20s?
P.S. - I can already see the dichotomy regarding my mother living in my house.
Just over 24 hours, and I'm already praying for some solution? Hence, the title of this post.
Today I had to go to the parents' house to pick up a few things that Momma had forgotten. My dad mentioned that he had picked up Momma's dry cleaning, and while I thought of that as I did a version of Supermarket Sweep through the house while my friend kept my dad occupied outside the house, I didn't pick it up. The reason I didn't is because Momma told me she planned to stay until the weekend, and then see what happens.
So I get home and I tell Momma about the dry cleaning. She says that she wishes that I had grabbed her dry cleaning, because she's got nothing to wear to work next week.
NEXT WEEK!!! She's planning on staying through next week? Umm. Uh-oh. OK. WHAT?
I love that she's feeling strong enough to leave her husband (ick) of almost 47 years. It's not been terrible all the time, but it's been bad for a long time. I've wanted her to leave (see below). I'm proud of her feeling like she has control of her own destiny.
Herein lies the problem. HER destiny, not mine. So now I've got my mother as an apparently perma-roommate? Her little comments about how she thinks I have no life hurt, but, at the same time, are not my issue; I can tell they're about her need to control, since she's had none for years.
But I already miss my privacy, my time on the phone with friends, my TV choices, and my bed. I wonder what will happen. I'm certain that if this goes on for (oh, God) a few weeks, it won't end well. I don't want to be the reason she feels like she has to go back to my dad.
Is this the split between parent and child that happens to most everyone else when they're like, in their 20s?
P.S. - I can already see the dichotomy regarding my mother living in my house.
Just over 24 hours, and I'm already praying for some solution? Hence, the title of this post.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Remember That Tuesday A While Back? This One's Better
Tonight I was chattering with Wade, and my Momma beeped in. I answered, and she said, "Mr. Wonderful just told me to leave. Can you come get me?"
Of course I can. I went to get my Momma, and so now she's staying with me for a few days to consider her options. This is an interesting development. In the spirit of honesty, I've wanted her to divorce my dad since I figured out what a true bastard he is - somewhere around 14. (Yes, I'm slow sometimes.) I'm happy for her choice, if only to take the time to decide what she needs.
Next, I emailed the boy to ask him to call me. I had to call him on the way to Momma's to ask him not to call me until I've got this sorted, and even better, to let me call him. Just now, I checked my email, and he wrote me about the problems in his world. They're worse than mine. I am not going to talk about them because they're not my problems to discuss, plus, my thoughts on them could be used as evidence later.
Regardless, let's just go back to that fact that I really, really, violently hate Tuesdays.
Of course I can. I went to get my Momma, and so now she's staying with me for a few days to consider her options. This is an interesting development. In the spirit of honesty, I've wanted her to divorce my dad since I figured out what a true bastard he is - somewhere around 14. (Yes, I'm slow sometimes.) I'm happy for her choice, if only to take the time to decide what she needs.
Next, I emailed the boy to ask him to call me. I had to call him on the way to Momma's to ask him not to call me until I've got this sorted, and even better, to let me call him. Just now, I checked my email, and he wrote me about the problems in his world. They're worse than mine. I am not going to talk about them because they're not my problems to discuss, plus, my thoughts on them could be used as evidence later.
Regardless, let's just go back to that fact that I really, really, violently hate Tuesdays.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Conversations About Food
The boy is epicurious. Well, both an epicurean and a gourmet. I, however, have the tastebuds of an Applebee's. I do enjoy learning about different foods, and different cooking techniques, from him. Still, there are times when he seems a little over the top and proud of what he makes.
(The part about salmon "parts" in his Eggs Benedict kinda did me in.)
So, we've finally come to a resolution. He can talk in his terms, and when it's too much, I can say, "Casserole". I was raised endlessly Mid-Western, and as much as I love my Momma, I've probably chipped more than one tooth on her food. He then pointed out, "That'll never get old."
No, baby, no it won't. Remember to never tell me what I'm eating until it's ingested.
(The part about salmon "parts" in his Eggs Benedict kinda did me in.)
So, we've finally come to a resolution. He can talk in his terms, and when it's too much, I can say, "Casserole". I was raised endlessly Mid-Western, and as much as I love my Momma, I've probably chipped more than one tooth on her food. He then pointed out, "That'll never get old."
No, baby, no it won't. Remember to never tell me what I'm eating until it's ingested.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Goodbye, Street Cred
For your amusement and my eternal shame, I will list for you the songs that appear on my WinAmp, without lying... (This does not mean I will listen to these songs, however. A girl's got her pride.)
1. One Night In Bangkok, Murray Head. And I love him more because he's brothers with Giles. What a talented family!
2. Girl U Want, Devo. Thank goodness! Feeling better about WinAmp's love for me.
3. A Wish Away, Wonder Stuff. Rollins hates them, but I did come of age in the early 90s, so what can I do? I remember learning about this song and band when I still lived in California, when 120 Minutes was required viewing. OK, so maybe not the early 90s, but the late 80s, but saying that makes me feel old.
4. Just Be A Man About It, Toni Braxton. This one requires a mood. Also, I totally went through a Toni Braxton phase, and this song was the beginning of the end. I liked the song, but I was moving on. (Skipped)
5. Gabba Gabba Hey, The Ramones. I'm really waiting for WinAmp to curse me and laugh at me. So far, so good.
6. Carondelet, Ruby. Not one of my favorites songs by Ruby, but I ripped the entire CD, so it's bound to show up sometime. (Skipped)
7. It's All Coming Back To Me Now, Celine Dion. Ah, yes, there's the pain. In the spirit of total honesty, given the right mood (and enough liquor), I still like it. (Not skipped, but turned the volume very low)
8. When Worlds Collide, Powerman 5000. Shut up, it was the 90s. Or the 00s? Can't remember. Also, I'm thanking my swiss cheese memory. Wanna bang heads with me? Neither do my upstairs neighbors, but I've put them through worse.
9. Simple Kind Of Life, No Doubt. I don't have a lot of memories associated with this song. It's also not a terrible song, nor a terrible band. I rate it a C+.
10. No Ordinary Love, Sade. Touche, WinAmp.
Thanks for listening.
1. One Night In Bangkok, Murray Head. And I love him more because he's brothers with Giles. What a talented family!
2. Girl U Want, Devo. Thank goodness! Feeling better about WinAmp's love for me.
3. A Wish Away, Wonder Stuff. Rollins hates them, but I did come of age in the early 90s, so what can I do? I remember learning about this song and band when I still lived in California, when 120 Minutes was required viewing. OK, so maybe not the early 90s, but the late 80s, but saying that makes me feel old.
4. Just Be A Man About It, Toni Braxton. This one requires a mood. Also, I totally went through a Toni Braxton phase, and this song was the beginning of the end. I liked the song, but I was moving on. (Skipped)
5. Gabba Gabba Hey, The Ramones. I'm really waiting for WinAmp to curse me and laugh at me. So far, so good.
6. Carondelet, Ruby. Not one of my favorites songs by Ruby, but I ripped the entire CD, so it's bound to show up sometime. (Skipped)
7. It's All Coming Back To Me Now, Celine Dion. Ah, yes, there's the pain. In the spirit of total honesty, given the right mood (and enough liquor), I still like it. (Not skipped, but turned the volume very low)
8. When Worlds Collide, Powerman 5000. Shut up, it was the 90s. Or the 00s? Can't remember. Also, I'm thanking my swiss cheese memory. Wanna bang heads with me? Neither do my upstairs neighbors, but I've put them through worse.
9. Simple Kind Of Life, No Doubt. I don't have a lot of memories associated with this song. It's also not a terrible song, nor a terrible band. I rate it a C+.
10. No Ordinary Love, Sade. Touche, WinAmp.
Thanks for listening.
Friday, August 22, 2008
Life In Limbo
I try not to complain too much on this little blog, but I guess I just need to get this out.
Since 2004, my life has been in limbo. Yeah, I got my J.D. and all that, but I haven't worked. Not anything more than a summer legal job. I miss having an income, and I miss the power that comes with that.
I miss being able to dream about buying myself things again. I miss using my credit cards. I haven't used my own credit since 2004! I used to be able to get myself presents and know that I could pay off the debt. I miss buying presents for my Momma. I miss being able to give gifts to friends and family.
I mean, I bought my own diamond earrings. I bought Momma a gorgeous pearl ring. Now I have to ask her for rent money.
I really hope I passed the bar. I hope that once I do, I can find a decent job. Because once I do, I'm going to buy myself a diamond ring.
This is just exhausting. Thanks for listening.
Since 2004, my life has been in limbo. Yeah, I got my J.D. and all that, but I haven't worked. Not anything more than a summer legal job. I miss having an income, and I miss the power that comes with that.
I miss being able to dream about buying myself things again. I miss using my credit cards. I haven't used my own credit since 2004! I used to be able to get myself presents and know that I could pay off the debt. I miss buying presents for my Momma. I miss being able to give gifts to friends and family.
I mean, I bought my own diamond earrings. I bought Momma a gorgeous pearl ring. Now I have to ask her for rent money.
I really hope I passed the bar. I hope that once I do, I can find a decent job. Because once I do, I'm going to buy myself a diamond ring.
This is just exhausting. Thanks for listening.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Lazy, And This Time I Really Stole It
A- My Accent:
Depends. In Cleveland, I sounded Southern, back in Alabama, I sound Northern. But just get me to say 'oil' and you'll know the truth.
B- Bra size:
Really? None-ya.
C- Chore I hate:
All.
D- Dad's name:
George.
E- Essential make-up:
Lipstick.
F- Favorite perfume:
St. John.
G- Gold or Silver?
Silver. Preferably, platinum. And diamonds.
H- Hometown:
I was born in Winfield, IL, but I don't really consider anywhere my hometown.
I- Insomnia:
Sweet Christmas!
J- Job Title:
That's just mean.
K- Kids:
No, thank you. The idea of being pregnant gives me night terrors, and no child deserves what I would do.
L- Living Arrangements
Just me and my Biggs.
M- Mom's Birthplace:
Alpena, MI.
N- Number of Sexual Partners
And again, we go with none-ya.
O- Overnight Hospital Stays
None - yet. Oh, wait, for my own health? None. For other people? An occasion or two.
P- Phobia(s):
Bugs, enclosed spaces.
Q- Quote:
That changes so often, there's no point in naming just one. Although "I heart cookies" is a perennial favorite.
R- Remembering:
That I need to take clothes out of Fluffy, and reload it, and add another load to Bubbles.
S- Siblings:
1 brother, 1 sister.
T- Two people I love:
The boy and my Momma.
U- Unnatural hair colors I've worn:
Purple, red, black, blonde...about the only one I've not been is blue.
V- Vegetables I refuse to eat:
Rutabaga, brussel sprouts, cooked cabbage.
W- Worst habit:
Never going to tell!
X- X-rays I've had:
My feet, as I broke my ankles about every 20 minutes as a child.
Y- Yummy foods I make:
Lasagna, grilled cheese, chili.
Z- Zoos I've visited:
I've been to many, but I generally disagree with the idea of zoos.
Depends. In Cleveland, I sounded Southern, back in Alabama, I sound Northern. But just get me to say 'oil' and you'll know the truth.
B- Bra size:
Really? None-ya.
C- Chore I hate:
All.
D- Dad's name:
George.
E- Essential make-up:
Lipstick.
F- Favorite perfume:
St. John.
G- Gold or Silver?
Silver. Preferably, platinum. And diamonds.
H- Hometown:
I was born in Winfield, IL, but I don't really consider anywhere my hometown.
I- Insomnia:
Sweet Christmas!
J- Job Title:
That's just mean.
K- Kids:
No, thank you. The idea of being pregnant gives me night terrors, and no child deserves what I would do.
L- Living Arrangements
Just me and my Biggs.
M- Mom's Birthplace:
Alpena, MI.
N- Number of Sexual Partners
And again, we go with none-ya.
O- Overnight Hospital Stays
None - yet. Oh, wait, for my own health? None. For other people? An occasion or two.
P- Phobia(s):
Bugs, enclosed spaces.
Q- Quote:
That changes so often, there's no point in naming just one. Although "I heart cookies" is a perennial favorite.
R- Remembering:
That I need to take clothes out of Fluffy, and reload it, and add another load to Bubbles.
S- Siblings:
1 brother, 1 sister.
T- Two people I love:
The boy and my Momma.
U- Unnatural hair colors I've worn:
Purple, red, black, blonde...about the only one I've not been is blue.
V- Vegetables I refuse to eat:
Rutabaga, brussel sprouts, cooked cabbage.
W- Worst habit:
Never going to tell!
X- X-rays I've had:
My feet, as I broke my ankles about every 20 minutes as a child.
Y- Yummy foods I make:
Lasagna, grilled cheese, chili.
Z- Zoos I've visited:
I've been to many, but I generally disagree with the idea of zoos.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Music...Makes The People...Come Together...
For some reason, just about every boy I dated in the 90s and this decade were into indie rock. Indie rock in the sense of feedback and my bleeding ears. I was reminded of this while looking at a friend's Facebook page. He has listed, as one of the musicians he likes, The Melvins.
Man, I hate The Melvins. They are my kryptonite. For the record, I also hate Pavement, and many songs by The Pixies. Sue me.
I once got iced in at my then-boyfriend's house for like 3 or 4 days (only in Alabama can this happen) and staying with us were 2 of his good friends. All of whom loved indie rock. I thought I'd go insane. I did duck-walk to my car to get some of my own music, but the car was iced shut.
Later, to get my revenge on all this: Mariah Carey. She is the root of all evil for all those indie boys. But, the best part of this was, at least 2 changed their mind about her after I was done with them.
You're welcome, girls who now date/are married to those boys.
Man, I hate The Melvins. They are my kryptonite. For the record, I also hate Pavement, and many songs by The Pixies. Sue me.
I once got iced in at my then-boyfriend's house for like 3 or 4 days (only in Alabama can this happen) and staying with us were 2 of his good friends. All of whom loved indie rock. I thought I'd go insane. I did duck-walk to my car to get some of my own music, but the car was iced shut.
Later, to get my revenge on all this: Mariah Carey. She is the root of all evil for all those indie boys. But, the best part of this was, at least 2 changed their mind about her after I was done with them.
You're welcome, girls who now date/are married to those boys.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Endless Endings
I know that the terrible word is "closure". I know that it shouldn't matter once a relationship (dating or friends) is over. Yet, I can't seem to avoid trying to get a piece of that person. At one point, that person belonged to me. And in many of my relationships (regardless), the interaction ended badly, and I want to a) be able to get my peace, and b) hash it out.
Chances are, I will never get what I want. Yet I can't seem to not try for it anyhow, because of my endless need to be understood.
Case in point: I'm emailing back and forth with a guy I used to date. I don't want him anymore, any more than he wants me. But the end was kinda bad, and we both deserved what we got. Still, it's been a long time and I want to be OK with him again. I don't want to be actual "friends", but I do want to be friendly. It's hard because when I think about him, I go back into memory-land. I don't think I can get rid of the good memories of him.
Is this weird? Does anyone else do this? And to be honest, if this is weird, well, yeah. That's how I am.
Chances are, I will never get what I want. Yet I can't seem to not try for it anyhow, because of my endless need to be understood.
Case in point: I'm emailing back and forth with a guy I used to date. I don't want him anymore, any more than he wants me. But the end was kinda bad, and we both deserved what we got. Still, it's been a long time and I want to be OK with him again. I don't want to be actual "friends", but I do want to be friendly. It's hard because when I think about him, I go back into memory-land. I don't think I can get rid of the good memories of him.
Is this weird? Does anyone else do this? And to be honest, if this is weird, well, yeah. That's how I am.
A Quickie
Reason #117 why I adore my separated Work Husband:
Him: "Do you think Michael Phelps is hot?"
Me: "No, but he's got a great body."
Him: "Exactly. He's got a great body and a face to protect it."
Him: "Do you think Michael Phelps is hot?"
Me: "No, but he's got a great body."
Him: "Exactly. He's got a great body and a face to protect it."
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Yeah, I Got Nothin'
I know I haven't written since Friday, which is rare for me, but I just can't think of anything to talk about. Who knew that over time, blogging takes work? I do have stories I could tell, but this little experiment is about me and not about my friends and family, so telling their stories really isn't fair. Plus, I spend a lot of time in my head, which means that many of my thoughts are about situations thst most likely won't happen. I do try to predict the future. Unfortunately, I don't pay a lot of mind to whether I'm right, so I don't have a batting average for you. Sometimes I think I should write stuff down, and then revisit. Yeah, that won't happen, any more than becoming a health food addict will.
So, now, my excitement is that NIN is playing in Nashville on Halloween. Last time I saw them was, jeez! Wade would know. We went to a double-header in Hotlanta: First night was The Cure, next night was NIN. It was an amazing weekend. Plus, gift bags! Remember, girl? I am absolutely thrilled to go, and I bet the show will be even better because of the holiday. I've just got to find a willing victim to go with me. I don't think this is (Separated) Work Husband's cup of tea (he loves him some techno and easy listening - yeah, I still "married" him). But I'm sure I can strongarm someone into going with me. Just like I can strongarm someone into seeing Rollins with me next month.
For "I Got Nothin'", this wasn't too bad, right?
So, now, my excitement is that NIN is playing in Nashville on Halloween. Last time I saw them was, jeez! Wade would know. We went to a double-header in Hotlanta: First night was The Cure, next night was NIN. It was an amazing weekend. Plus, gift bags! Remember, girl? I am absolutely thrilled to go, and I bet the show will be even better because of the holiday. I've just got to find a willing victim to go with me. I don't think this is (Separated) Work Husband's cup of tea (he loves him some techno and easy listening - yeah, I still "married" him). But I'm sure I can strongarm someone into going with me. Just like I can strongarm someone into seeing Rollins with me next month.
For "I Got Nothin'", this wasn't too bad, right?
Friday, August 15, 2008
The Farewell...
Today was my last day at the bank. It was an easy day, made much easier by the fact that I haven't hidden the fact that I was surfing the interwebs since Tuesday - the day I found out I'd be "displaced". (Seriously, that's the term they use at the bank. What am I, a refugee? Wait, displaced person.) Definitely took the edge off.
I was doing good, until I emailed all the folks I've worked with over the past 5 months to say goodbye and good luck. I got a call from my boss' boss, and he thanked me for my work and gave good wishes, including an offer to hire me once the stock goes back up. I sweetly thanked him, and told him that once I'm an attorney, I was available for him as well. Then I got an email from one of Work Husband's originators, saying that God has a plan for everything. For some reason, this one got to me. I'm not a terribly religious person. But something about that gave me pause. I think it might be because he was taking my "displacement" a lot more seriously than I, and that I should take it more seriously. Anyway, it got me emotional.
I hugged Work Husband in his car (he would drive me to my car after work) and he refused to say goodbye. He said, "This isn't goodbye, this is see you later." I reminded him that we have tentitive plans to get together next weekend, and said I'd call him next week.
I know I'll miss him more than anything. I feel like I made a friend there. We'll see. Life often gets in the way.
But to end this on a more cheerful note...
And I have complete permission to post this story: He let me pick from where I wanted lunch, and I had a taste for McDonald's. (He HATES McDonald's.) So we went, and as he was getting my soda, he was looking at me instead of the worker, and the lid of my drink hit the top of his car. The Diet Coke went all over him. I couldn't laugh; he looked too upset. I told him he could blame me. He promised to absolutely blame me. On the way back to work, he finally started laughing, and we laughed all the way back, and all afternoon.
Seemed fitting. Not sure how, though.
I was doing good, until I emailed all the folks I've worked with over the past 5 months to say goodbye and good luck. I got a call from my boss' boss, and he thanked me for my work and gave good wishes, including an offer to hire me once the stock goes back up. I sweetly thanked him, and told him that once I'm an attorney, I was available for him as well. Then I got an email from one of Work Husband's originators, saying that God has a plan for everything. For some reason, this one got to me. I'm not a terribly religious person. But something about that gave me pause. I think it might be because he was taking my "displacement" a lot more seriously than I, and that I should take it more seriously. Anyway, it got me emotional.
I hugged Work Husband in his car (he would drive me to my car after work) and he refused to say goodbye. He said, "This isn't goodbye, this is see you later." I reminded him that we have tentitive plans to get together next weekend, and said I'd call him next week.
I know I'll miss him more than anything. I feel like I made a friend there. We'll see. Life often gets in the way.
But to end this on a more cheerful note...
And I have complete permission to post this story: He let me pick from where I wanted lunch, and I had a taste for McDonald's. (He HATES McDonald's.) So we went, and as he was getting my soda, he was looking at me instead of the worker, and the lid of my drink hit the top of his car. The Diet Coke went all over him. I couldn't laugh; he looked too upset. I told him he could blame me. He promised to absolutely blame me. On the way back to work, he finally started laughing, and we laughed all the way back, and all afternoon.
Seemed fitting. Not sure how, though.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Uh-Oh...
This, right now, is my latest obsession:
The Perfect Boy - The Cure
Best lyric: "If it was meant to be us, it was meant to be now".
Gorgeous, sad, and I will always love Robert Smith's voice.
PS - Sorry to do this twice in a row.
The Perfect Boy - The Cure
Best lyric: "If it was meant to be us, it was meant to be now".
Gorgeous, sad, and I will always love Robert Smith's voice.
PS - Sorry to do this twice in a row.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
When I Knew I Was Finally A Woman
There are rites of passage through which all must go. One of those is realizing that you're a real wo/man. This is my story...
My mother is quite possibly the most literate person east of the Mississippi. My folks have a 6-bedroom house (for the 2 of them; I better inherit that shit), of which at least 3 are pure libraries. You can't turn around without running into something else to read. I inherited this reading bug from her. (To her great sadness, I was the only one.) Seriously, as a kid, I would read cereal boxes over and over again at breakfast, just to get my fix.
As a result, she and I would play Scrabble. A lot. Because that's how we roll. Also, she generally hates board games, and also would not let me win at anything just 'cos I was little. She's not one to baby your sweet little ego. So, I learned to be an unbelievably sore loser, as how can any 15-year-old hope to compare with the queen of intellectual curiousity (as applied to literacy)?
But one day, my time finally came. I can't remember how old I was anymore. Most likely I was in my mid-to-late 20s, probably while I was working on degree number 3. (You collect whatever you collect, I collect college degrees.) On that fateful day, I finally beat my mother at Scrabble. And I didn't just beat her, I held her out the window by her ankles until she finally agreed that I was the master, and she was now only a redundant Teacher.
And that's how I became a woman.
My mother is quite possibly the most literate person east of the Mississippi. My folks have a 6-bedroom house (for the 2 of them; I better inherit that shit), of which at least 3 are pure libraries. You can't turn around without running into something else to read. I inherited this reading bug from her. (To her great sadness, I was the only one.) Seriously, as a kid, I would read cereal boxes over and over again at breakfast, just to get my fix.
As a result, she and I would play Scrabble. A lot. Because that's how we roll. Also, she generally hates board games, and also would not let me win at anything just 'cos I was little. She's not one to baby your sweet little ego. So, I learned to be an unbelievably sore loser, as how can any 15-year-old hope to compare with the queen of intellectual curiousity (as applied to literacy)?
But one day, my time finally came. I can't remember how old I was anymore. Most likely I was in my mid-to-late 20s, probably while I was working on degree number 3. (You collect whatever you collect, I collect college degrees.) On that fateful day, I finally beat my mother at Scrabble. And I didn't just beat her, I held her out the window by her ankles until she finally agreed that I was the master, and she was now only a redundant Teacher.
And that's how I became a woman.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
I Hate Tuesdays
OK, so here's the whole story:
Found out that I was going to lose my temp job at the bank. I kinda figured it was inevitable, considering that the bank is laying off people left and right, and who's easier to terminate than a temp? But it still stings, and since I've gotten so close to Work Husband, it bothers me more than I like to admit. He was sweet, though - when I told him we were getting a divorce, he told me that it was only a separation. Can you see why I'll miss him so?
Cut to later: I was in bed, it was about 10:45 or so. I figured I probably wouldn't be hearing from the boy, since we had talked every day over the weekend and we tend to take a break after such marathon phone calls. But, the phone rings, and I rush to answer it. He's telling me about his day and his future plans, and mentioned a dinner with some girl. I irrationally get jealous and just lay into him with such scorn and anger that it almost took me aback, too. He sounded so hurt and just said, "Talk tomorrow?" I told him that I wanted a break from him and just hung up the phone.
Today, under clearer light (and a sweet email he had sent that I didn't receive until I got to work), I realized that I don't want a break from him, and that I sounded so cruel. I sent him an email in apology. I haven't heard back. I don't know if I should call him tonight to try to explain. (I haven't told him I lost my job.) I don't want this to linger on. But I'm afraid to call. One, he might be really angry with me, and rightfully so, and two, I'm not sure I could take it if he doesn't answer his phone.
So, to recap: No job, possibly no boy.
I hate Tuesdays.
Found out that I was going to lose my temp job at the bank. I kinda figured it was inevitable, considering that the bank is laying off people left and right, and who's easier to terminate than a temp? But it still stings, and since I've gotten so close to Work Husband, it bothers me more than I like to admit. He was sweet, though - when I told him we were getting a divorce, he told me that it was only a separation. Can you see why I'll miss him so?
Cut to later: I was in bed, it was about 10:45 or so. I figured I probably wouldn't be hearing from the boy, since we had talked every day over the weekend and we tend to take a break after such marathon phone calls. But, the phone rings, and I rush to answer it. He's telling me about his day and his future plans, and mentioned a dinner with some girl. I irrationally get jealous and just lay into him with such scorn and anger that it almost took me aback, too. He sounded so hurt and just said, "Talk tomorrow?" I told him that I wanted a break from him and just hung up the phone.
Today, under clearer light (and a sweet email he had sent that I didn't receive until I got to work), I realized that I don't want a break from him, and that I sounded so cruel. I sent him an email in apology. I haven't heard back. I don't know if I should call him tonight to try to explain. (I haven't told him I lost my job.) I don't want this to linger on. But I'm afraid to call. One, he might be really angry with me, and rightfully so, and two, I'm not sure I could take it if he doesn't answer his phone.
So, to recap: No job, possibly no boy.
I hate Tuesdays.
Monday, August 11, 2008
Writer's Block
I've got the worst case of writer's block. I can't find anything interesting to discuss. This hurts me. Usually, I can find something interesting/random about my day to share (or overshare, yeah, I know). There have been very few of these moments as of late. I was such a rabid little blogger, and now I've got nothing.
So, here's the thoughts going on in my head. Maybe one will lead to something of some import, worth discussing. Unlikely.
- Got an email from R. At first, I couldn't figure out why he was writing. Then, I noticed that I had emailed him first. Nice memory, girl. Also, I wonder about his endearing terminology as it relates to me. If I were his wife, I'd probably stab him in the throat. But considering my weird relationship, who knows?
- J. was cranky at work this morning, then not in the afternoon. I hope it wasn't about me.
- Work husband has finally accepted that I write about him often. I think that now he loves knowing that when I do, I get way more hits on this site than any other topic I share. Which probably says more about his awesomeness than my lack thereof. He felt even better when I reported that I do not refer to him by name or discuss the details of his life. Any port in a storm, I figure.
- I would seriously pay (in an installment contract; I'm quite broke at the moment) someone to come clean this rathole. I used to be so tidy! Just ask my college roommate, the one I locked out of our apartment because she had the audacity to walk through grass and not on the sidewalk, thereby getting the dreaded Alabama Red Mud on her boots, which took me at least an hour to clean off our carpet. Said rudeness (my locking her out, not her walking) was made much worse by the fact that she was accompanied by her boyfriend at the time. And no, I never apologized to her for that.
- I'm kinda lonely right now.
- My hair looked FANTASTIC today, and I can't figure out why, but even work husband read me the glories of my tresses. He definitely gets bonus points for that.
So, here's the thoughts going on in my head. Maybe one will lead to something of some import, worth discussing. Unlikely.
- Got an email from R. At first, I couldn't figure out why he was writing. Then, I noticed that I had emailed him first. Nice memory, girl. Also, I wonder about his endearing terminology as it relates to me. If I were his wife, I'd probably stab him in the throat. But considering my weird relationship, who knows?
- J. was cranky at work this morning, then not in the afternoon. I hope it wasn't about me.
- Work husband has finally accepted that I write about him often. I think that now he loves knowing that when I do, I get way more hits on this site than any other topic I share. Which probably says more about his awesomeness than my lack thereof. He felt even better when I reported that I do not refer to him by name or discuss the details of his life. Any port in a storm, I figure.
- I would seriously pay (in an installment contract; I'm quite broke at the moment) someone to come clean this rathole. I used to be so tidy! Just ask my college roommate, the one I locked out of our apartment because she had the audacity to walk through grass and not on the sidewalk, thereby getting the dreaded Alabama Red Mud on her boots, which took me at least an hour to clean off our carpet. Said rudeness (my locking her out, not her walking) was made much worse by the fact that she was accompanied by her boyfriend at the time. And no, I never apologized to her for that.
- I'm kinda lonely right now.
- My hair looked FANTASTIC today, and I can't figure out why, but even work husband read me the glories of my tresses. He definitely gets bonus points for that.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
More Things You May Not Know About Me
1. I can write in mirror writing. It's not pretty, but it's legible.
2. I can move my index fingers in opposite circles at the same time. It's harder than it looks, trust me.
3. I keep all of my old love letters. It's nice to know that someone, at some time, was in love with me.
4. I torture myself. It's like I think I deserve it. For example, I diet low-carb. And I love me some bread.
5. I archive every message, in every form, from the boy. If he knew that, he'd think I am a freak, so let's keep that between us, k?
6. I know all the lyrics to almost every even mildly popular from the 1980s.
7. I have incredible ab muscles, which can't be seen. See #4.
8. I honestly think I'm incredibly funny and interesting.
9. I have the patience and the attention span of a 2-year-old.
10. I was not born to follow orders, but to lead.
PS! 11. I unironically watch CBS' The Morning Show on Sundays, and I am not yet collecting Social Security.
PPS! 12. I play guitar left-handed, and bass guitar right-handed.
PPPS: 13. I hoard bathroom supplies, like deoderant and shower gel.
2. I can move my index fingers in opposite circles at the same time. It's harder than it looks, trust me.
3. I keep all of my old love letters. It's nice to know that someone, at some time, was in love with me.
4. I torture myself. It's like I think I deserve it. For example, I diet low-carb. And I love me some bread.
5. I archive every message, in every form, from the boy. If he knew that, he'd think I am a freak, so let's keep that between us, k?
6. I know all the lyrics to almost every even mildly popular from the 1980s.
7. I have incredible ab muscles, which can't be seen. See #4.
8. I honestly think I'm incredibly funny and interesting.
9. I have the patience and the attention span of a 2-year-old.
10. I was not born to follow orders, but to lead.
PS! 11. I unironically watch CBS' The Morning Show on Sundays, and I am not yet collecting Social Security.
PPS! 12. I play guitar left-handed, and bass guitar right-handed.
PPPS: 13. I hoard bathroom supplies, like deoderant and shower gel.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Found It!
It's been an interesting 24 hours, as slightly referenced by the post below. I've spent some time twisting in the wind, trying to figure some things out. I finally got it.
I've been living with my actions and my thoughts at almost absolute opposites. That clearly was not working. I remember my first appointment with a doctor, when I said that I felt like my power was gone.
Power's back! And it feels a lot sweeter to finally recognize it and realize that being who I really am is not a bad thing. I've spent so much time trying to transform myself into some ideal. I'm not some ideal; I'm me.
And why try to deny it? I'm awesome!
And the best side effect? That SOB who raped me can no longer have any power over me. Fuck him. I wasted too much time. Now, this is all about me, and I will celebrate the things I do well, and not care about the things I do not do well.
I wish I could buy myself another present.
I've been living with my actions and my thoughts at almost absolute opposites. That clearly was not working. I remember my first appointment with a doctor, when I said that I felt like my power was gone.
Power's back! And it feels a lot sweeter to finally recognize it and realize that being who I really am is not a bad thing. I've spent so much time trying to transform myself into some ideal. I'm not some ideal; I'm me.
And why try to deny it? I'm awesome!
And the best side effect? That SOB who raped me can no longer have any power over me. Fuck him. I wasted too much time. Now, this is all about me, and I will celebrate the things I do well, and not care about the things I do not do well.
I wish I could buy myself another present.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
I'm Working On A New Idea...
It's about power, submission, and how we make this whole world work out. The problem is that I tend to associate my thoughts with my experiences, and as we've discussed, I'm still a bit nervous about abject honesty.
There's a lot at stake, as I'm sure there is for everyone else in the world. But since where I live is pretty close-knit, and people know each other, and revel in judgment, I have to be careful.
Suffice to say that I wonder about the nature of control. We all want it, and I think that we worry about the consequences of having it or not.
Of course, it's entirely possible that people don't really consider the nature of their actions. I do wonder if many people are introspective and self-aware. Sure, there's a lot of that on different sites. But as an overall concept.
Yeah...I'm done.
Sweet Christmas!
There's a lot at stake, as I'm sure there is for everyone else in the world. But since where I live is pretty close-knit, and people know each other, and revel in judgment, I have to be careful.
Suffice to say that I wonder about the nature of control. We all want it, and I think that we worry about the consequences of having it or not.
Of course, it's entirely possible that people don't really consider the nature of their actions. I do wonder if many people are introspective and self-aware. Sure, there's a lot of that on different sites. But as an overall concept.
Yeah...I'm done.
Sweet Christmas!
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Jealousy
I was talking with my friend B. about this, and also talking (in a more roundabout fashion) to the boy about it as well. I try not to be a jealous person, but I have to admit that I feel territorial around my friends. I want my friends to all like each other, but not too much, because I fear losing that close friendship I've enjoyed.
It's gotten easier over time. In my 20s, I was pretty damn jealous, because I was so insecure about my own worth as a person. Mostly, that kind of jealousy didn't work out too well for me, because as it turns out, when someone wants your company, it's a compliment. When s/he wants all your time, it's irritating and forces that person to withdraw from the pressure.
Fast forward to now. My relationship with the boy is unconventional, to say the least. He tells me that I have to get over being jealous. I'm not sure how successful I can be at that. I can hide the feeling more than I can do away with it. He tells me that he doesn't get jealous, but then sounds more than a little concerned about some of my past entanglments.
So, how to cope? If I hide my feelings, I'll eventually get bitter and feel like I'm not being heard, which, as we know, does not end well. But I don't want to harp on those feelings either. Processing and re-processing feelings gets tiring too.
Still got a lot to learn, I guess.
It's gotten easier over time. In my 20s, I was pretty damn jealous, because I was so insecure about my own worth as a person. Mostly, that kind of jealousy didn't work out too well for me, because as it turns out, when someone wants your company, it's a compliment. When s/he wants all your time, it's irritating and forces that person to withdraw from the pressure.
Fast forward to now. My relationship with the boy is unconventional, to say the least. He tells me that I have to get over being jealous. I'm not sure how successful I can be at that. I can hide the feeling more than I can do away with it. He tells me that he doesn't get jealous, but then sounds more than a little concerned about some of my past entanglments.
So, how to cope? If I hide my feelings, I'll eventually get bitter and feel like I'm not being heard, which, as we know, does not end well. But I don't want to harp on those feelings either. Processing and re-processing feelings gets tiring too.
Still got a lot to learn, I guess.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
The Downside
I've been away from work for two days now, because the cold that I was anticipating finally showed up. Thank goodness for medication, because I do feel better now. I'll probably have the cough for a few more weeks. It's what we call here the crud. Plus, since I have bad habits, it'll last.
I'd forgotten how nice it was to have time to myself. I've missed my work husband, but not enough to want to go back to work. Still, I do love having an income, so I will be good and work again.
This is sort of a lame post. Apologies all around.
I'd forgotten how nice it was to have time to myself. I've missed my work husband, but not enough to want to go back to work. Still, I do love having an income, so I will be good and work again.
This is sort of a lame post. Apologies all around.
Tye Dye
So apparently, I'm changing my hair color again. I spent a lot of years being a redhead. I'm not naturally one, although the sun does create images. But when I'm a redhead, I feel more powerful. I don't know if this is because of how I felt at the time, or because the color made me feel powerful.
Still, I want to feel the very best that I can. One way I can make that happen is to look like I want to feel. Fake it 'til you make it, right?
So by the end of the weekend, I will be red again.
(If you're nice, pics to follow. And blame the boy.)
Still, I want to feel the very best that I can. One way I can make that happen is to look like I want to feel. Fake it 'til you make it, right?
So by the end of the weekend, I will be red again.
(If you're nice, pics to follow. And blame the boy.)
Monday, August 4, 2008
Boys v. Girls
I've been wondering about this for a while now. I have a lot of thoughts, some of which I've posted, about the relationship between boys and girls. I don't get the dichotomy between the sexes.
Being a girl, it seems really easy to get women. Women are rational (given time) and men are base and in a pissing contest.
As I try to figure out the boy, I try to figure out the relationships I had in the past, both with men and women (just friendships, don't be cute).
I'm just endlessly curious about how these relationships work. I would love your input. I just ask that you be honest, even if it hurts. I will be just as honest.
Or if you've even got a story about dealing with the opposite sex, I'd love to hear it. If you don't want it published, that's cool too.
Love,
C
Being a girl, it seems really easy to get women. Women are rational (given time) and men are base and in a pissing contest.
As I try to figure out the boy, I try to figure out the relationships I had in the past, both with men and women (just friendships, don't be cute).
I'm just endlessly curious about how these relationships work. I would love your input. I just ask that you be honest, even if it hurts. I will be just as honest.
Or if you've even got a story about dealing with the opposite sex, I'd love to hear it. If you don't want it published, that's cool too.
Love,
C
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Vicious Cycles
This morning, I've been thinking about patterns in my life. I often say, and have heard it said, that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, and expecting a different result.
Cute, short, to the point. But...I wonder if I'm repeating my patterns so I can finally be right. I think that maybe my need to be vindicated is so strong that it pulls at my unconscious. It sends me back to the same people to see if I can fix a wrong. The wrong could be on my doing, of his/her doing, or of a tiny little detail that didn't matter at all, but somehow stuck into my subconscious and informs my actions.
I like to think that as I'm getting older, I'm gaining some wisdom. And I think I am, to a certain degree. It's getting easier for me to ask for help and to listen. I'm finding that I can actually learn from other people's stories and experiences. I want to know more about my great aunt's life because I know she's felt some things that I have, and I also know that at 95, she's not going to be around a lot longer. And the will be the end of my "greats". I have no grandparents anymore, haven't for years, and she's the last link to family, in a sense.
So, I guess what I'm thinking is, do I return to people because they were always supposed to be there in the first place, or because I'm trying to fix something? Does it matter? In my journey to figure myself out, it feels like it matters, but even saying such things makes me feel like I only use people. And I really hope that's not the truth I'm going to find. Because that's not the person I want to be.
Sheesh! Maybe I should pretend to study some more or something, so I don't get like this.
Cute, short, to the point. But...I wonder if I'm repeating my patterns so I can finally be right. I think that maybe my need to be vindicated is so strong that it pulls at my unconscious. It sends me back to the same people to see if I can fix a wrong. The wrong could be on my doing, of his/her doing, or of a tiny little detail that didn't matter at all, but somehow stuck into my subconscious and informs my actions.
I like to think that as I'm getting older, I'm gaining some wisdom. And I think I am, to a certain degree. It's getting easier for me to ask for help and to listen. I'm finding that I can actually learn from other people's stories and experiences. I want to know more about my great aunt's life because I know she's felt some things that I have, and I also know that at 95, she's not going to be around a lot longer. And the will be the end of my "greats". I have no grandparents anymore, haven't for years, and she's the last link to family, in a sense.
So, I guess what I'm thinking is, do I return to people because they were always supposed to be there in the first place, or because I'm trying to fix something? Does it matter? In my journey to figure myself out, it feels like it matters, but even saying such things makes me feel like I only use people. And I really hope that's not the truth I'm going to find. Because that's not the person I want to be.
Sheesh! Maybe I should pretend to study some more or something, so I don't get like this.
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