Stay Patient & Trust The Journey

This post is supposed to be about a person in my family that means so much to me.  Well, that's my kid.  Second, my mom.  I've already talked at length about those two so I'm just going to skip this one and move on to the next.  Sure, there are others...my brother, aunts, a cousin or two, but I just don't think I want to devote an entire post to them.  I love my family, each and every member.  I love them even if I sometimes fantasize about choking the shit out of them.  Over the course of this blog, familial love has been a theme I've touched on more than once.  Saying that, I think it a bit redundant, so I'm choosing to move on to the last topic...a letter written by me to me for me.

Dear future self,

You're badass.  Keep being awesome.

Sincerely,

Yourself, circa 2015

Just kidding.... 

Dear future self,

This is the weirdest thing I've ever done in my life...except that one time, with the thing...you know what I'm talking about.  Anyway, you've come a long way in 34 years and here's hoping for 34+ more.  I've heard that people who talk to themselves actually make themselves smarter, so I'm guessing writing a letter like this is kinda like that?!  I suppose the purpose of this is to offer up some sage advice to be read or re-read when I've forgotten or need inspiration.  

You know me very well.  You know that I'm not always the greatest advice giver, unless its in the service of others.  Right now, I'm hoping you're not still like that.  I hope that you've finally been put on the right track and have confidence in your inner compass...you trust in yourself a little more than I do at this moment.  Self-confidence, I am realizing, is a lot deeper than just thinking I am beautiful and living an authentic life unapologetic. It also includes being confident in my decision making and trusting myself to be committed to my passions. To step outside of my comfort zone and have the inner strength to assure myself that I will be OK in doing so. Inner strength is key.  You can't let people scare you.  You can't continue to live you're life, parts or the whole, trying to please everyone else.  You can't go through life worried about what everyone else is going to think.  Whether its your hair, clothes, what you have to say, how you feel, what you believe, and what you have. You can't let the judgement of others stop you from being you.  Because if you do, you no longer are you.  You're someone else that other people want you to be.

Motherhood looks nothing like I imagined it would when I was younger.  Its messy & chaotic & not being able to fold a fitted sheet to save your life so you just shove it in closet with a look of disdain on your face.  I'm sure you are still battling those sheets, among a million other things.  I tend to dwell on my shortcomings or berate myself for all the things that just haven't gotten done...and I know you are still doing it too.  So stop.  Stop and remember that those things don't make you a mother.  Remember all the times where you have done well. Or the times when you’ve been there for her. Sitting up at 1 AM rocking a toddler who had a bad dream.  Making dinner out of a pantry that is bare.  Giving up on something you need so that your child can get what they need.  Helping with math.  Reading story after story.  Folding those clothes.  Making lunches. Teaching.  Listening to her stories.  Being silly.  Laughing.  Holding the puke bucket.  Wiping faces.  Putting art on the refrigerator.  Watching her sleep while praying the fever will break. Those are the moments in life that you are blessed to live.  And don't forget there is a last time for everything.  One day you will pick her up after falling, dry her tears and set her down again.  And you will never pick her up that way ever again.  One night you will wash her hair while singing songs and from the next night on, she will want to bathe alone.  One day she will kiss you goodbye on the way to school, and the next she'll want to go it alone.  You will read one final bedtime story, wipe one last dirty face, have one last night of midnight cuddles.  And the thing is you won't know its the last time until there are no more next times.  Even then, it might take you awhile to realize. So while you're living in these times, remember they are numbered and remember when they're gone...you will yearn for just One. More. Time.  So don't get wrapped up in the mundane.  Accept the fact that you won't get it all done and that's OK.  Make your home one in which you not only share toothpaste & germs but love & laughs.  She's never going to look back and say "I'm the person I am today because my house was always clean."  She's going to look back and say "I'm the person I am today because my mom loved me."

I'm sure there are a few shitheads still circulating through my life.  With my big, dumb heart I, sadly, have to deal with toxic people all the time.  The thing you need to remember is that not all toxic people are cruel and uncaring.  Some of them love us dearly.  Many of them have good intentions.  Most are toxic to our being simply because their needs and way of existing in the world force us to compromise ourselves and our happiness.  They aren't inherently bad people, but they aren't the right people for us.  And, as hard as it is...we have to let them go.  Life is hard enough without being around people who bring you down, and as much as you care, you can't destroy yourself for the sake of someone else.  You have to make your well-being a priority.  Whether it means breaking up with a guy, loving a family member from a distance, letting go of a friend, or removing yourself from a situation that feels painful...you have every right to leave and create a place of peace.

Lonely is going to happen.  So I say fuck it.  Be lonely.  Cozy up to it and learn your way around it.  Embrace the fuck out of it because it might never go away.  I know a lot of the lonely stems from not staying in contact with people I care for...new and old.  I know its easy to feel uncared for when people aren't able to communicate and connect with you in the way you need.  And its so hard to not internalize that silence as a reflection of your worth.  But the truth is that the way other people operate is not about you. Most people are so caught up in their own responsibilities, struggles, and anxiety that the thought of asking someone else how they're doing doesn't even cross their mind.  Just like I said before about toxic people, they're not inherently bad or uncaring...they're just busy and self-focused.  And that's OK.  Its not evidence of some fundamental failing on your part.  It doesn't make you unlovable or invisible.  It just means that those people are not very good at looking beyond their own world.  But the fact that you are, that despite the darkness you feel, you have the ability to share your love, time & attention with others.  This is a strength.  Your work isn't to change who you are;  its to find people who are able to give you the connection you need.  Because despite what you feel, you are not too much.  You are not too sensitive or too needy.  You are thoughtful and empathetic.  You are compassionate and kind.  And with or without anyone's acknowledgement or affection, you are enough.

Key points to remember....the condensed version:

• To heal a wound, you need to stop touching it.
• Take the risk or lose the chance. 
• Let her stay up past her bedtime...occasionally.
• Everyone is fucked up.  You just have to decide what kind of fucked up you're into.
• Invest in people who invest in you.
• Not everyone is going to love you.  Most people don't even love themselves.
• You are not failing as a mother.
• If you can't be the poet, be the poem.
• Put the phone away.  Turn it off if you can.
•  "No" is a complete sentence.
• Burning bridges is OK, especially if the bridge was fucked up to begin with.
• Brace yourself...the teen years are coming.
• The best way out is always through.

In closing, just remember:  If you are feeling frightened about what comes next, don't be.  Feel the fear but embrace the uncertainty.  Allow it to lead you places.  Be brave as it challenges you to exercise both your heart and mind as you create your own path toward happiness; don't waste time with regret.  Be enthusiastic about your next move, no matter what form it takes.  Enjoy the present, each moment, as it comes, because you'll never get another one quite like it.  And if you ever should look up and find yourself lost, simply take a breath and start over.  Retrace your steps and go back to the purest place of your heart...where your hope lives.  You'll find your way again.  Promise.

Sincerely,

Yourself :)

P.S...Just buy the damn shoes, you know I'm right.

 

Lux et veritas

The twenty-sixth blog challenge topic is...

A Past Dream Of Mine, A Great Thing I Wanted to Accomplish, But No Longer Able To Do...

Even before I entered high school I wanted to go to college back East at an Ivy League school.  My dream school was and will always be Yale.

The quality of the education, the prestige, the history and legacy, & studying far away from family were all appealing aspects of attending Yale for me.  There were many other reasons I dreamed of going to school in Connecticut, but the sad reality is that I never even applied.  Why?  It wasn't because I didn't think I would be accepted.  I feel like my odds were good.  On paper, I was an excellent candidate...high GPA, well rounded in student organizations & clubs, awards, accolades, and community involvement.  Was I shoe in?  Not at all, but I think I stood a real chance.  The financial weight was truly scary and I feel led to my decision to not even apply.  I was awarded a full-ride for Journalism and that was the path I choose.  It was safer and not a gamble.

Is my Yale dream truly dead?!  No, I don't think so.  It just has become a different dream, that's all.  If I were to attend Yale now, it would be under a different context...one of a Master's or PHD program.  I wouldn't be a wide-eyed, naive 18 year old freshman.  I wouldn't be that student who might not appreciate the school or the experience the way my 30 something self surely would.  I think attending Yale now, instead of fresh out of high school, would be infinitely more beneficial.  I have more perspective now, more appreciation for opportunities, and a better understanding of the way life operates.  Once I finish my BA, we will see if my path to higher education concludes or is just starting to get interesting.

You Mustn't Be Afraid To Dream A Little Bigger Darling

The twenty-fifth blog challenge topic is...

My Biggest Dream, A Great Thing I Want to Accomplish...

So many things relate to my kid that I sometimes have trouble with these prompts, I could easily make almost all of them about her.  I never had dreams of becoming a mother in my youth...and that trend continued on into my 20's.  I just never was that girl.  I never fantasized about my future wedding and picked out my future kids' names.  Now that I am a parent, I can't imagine my life without her.  She became my dream.  A dream I never knew I wanted.  But, I've talked about that in the past so I'll discuss something else I want to accomplish today.

One of my other big dreams is to write a novel.  I want to tell the story I've been hoping to read every time I pick up a new book.  I'm not talking about the next great American novel here, I just want to write a story worth something to me.  I'm not talking about a commercially successfully-turned motion picture type of novel...that would be awesome, but not necessary.  I don't think I would even need it to be published.  I just want to get this story I've had rattling around in my brain for so long down on paper.

Writing a novel has been a dream of mine for a very long time.  It was only until, maybe 5 years ago, that I started thinking seriously about it.  I remember when I was younger, middle school age, I sat in my bedroom rewriting movies or TV shows if I didn't like the way the storyline progressed.  Considering I don't want to write fan-fic like I did all those years ago, I started thinking about what original story I wanted to tell.  I have notes everywhere.  A couple of notebooks at home and "notes" on my phone...I need to go through them and start organizing.  I even have an inspiration board on Pinterest.  Anytime an idea comes to me or I read/see/hear something that I think could be useful, I write it down.

A received a very good piece of advice once:  Don't discuss your "in-progress writing" with non-writers.  Creativity is a fragile thing, after all.  I'm not going to discuss my story in this post other than that it will be a work of fiction.  The characters, however, will have facets of realism to them.  What I mean by that is, people I know or have known have been the basis to many of my characters.  Some are wholly that person, others are comprised of aspects, and others are amalgamations.  So if the day ever comes that my novel lines some shelf in Barnes & Noble bookstores & you purchase it after reading the back cover summary & after a few chapters you begin to wonder why that douchey character seems vaguely familiar...just know you were, in fact, my muse.

You're welcome...asshole.

Still Don't Have It Figured Out

The twenty-fourth blog challenge topic is...

My Vocation (Why I Am Here On Earth)...

What the what?!? 

I have absolutely no idea why I am here on Earth.  I've spent the last 30 something years trying to figure that out, and I bet I will still not know the reason, definitively, 30 years from now.

The only thing that I do know for certain is that I should love all, trust a few, and wrong none.  Oh....and, always leave people better than I found them. 

Considering the short length of this post, I decided to share this gif with you as recompense.  You're welcome.

Please never explain this to me...

 

Small Victories & Slight Stumbles

The twenty-third blog challenge topic is...

How I Deal With Both Success & Failure...

I think the situation directly influences my reaction to either success or failure, I do not have a default setting when it comes to those two.  I mean, I could narrate a couple of recent examples because my reaction always differs due to the level of any given success/failure, emotional investment, relationship levels, etc.


Exhibit A:   Starting college.......again

I had been toying around with the idea of starting back for years, to be honest.  I had made every excuse in the book for not doing it, got really creative too.  Then, randomly, one day I just did it.  I went online and requested transcripts and started the process.  I don't know what prompted me to fill out the application for readmission.  I guess, maybe, I just reached the "ah, fuck it" level.  I was accepted, financial aid has been submitted, and I've been assigned an adviser.  The next step is actually enrolling...which will probably happen next week, I have to wait until my FASFA arrives at the university to move forward.

This time around, I'm going in a completely different direction, major wise.  I'm smart.  I don't say that in an egotistical way, I just know my strengths.  I've always been an engineering major due to an aptitude & the career stability aspect.  I'm good at math.  I'm a good chemist.  Chemical engineering was a logical choice.  But, I always got bored.  Don't get me wrong, I love blowing shit up in Chem lab.  That was never boring.  I think its because that stuff is just easy for me, for the most part.  This time I'm going for a non-science major that I have a personal connection too.  I'm excited to see how this plays out.  I'm a bit scared because it is so different and is something I normally wouldn't do because its not safe and financially viable.  Considering all that, I still have a sense of peace about me.  I'm finally doing something I've been talking about doing for so long so I feel taking the steps to re-enroll, as well as making the decision to major in something I have a real passion for, is a major success.  I've successfully overcome my lame-ass excuses and fear.  I'm starting to live the life I've wanted and feeling good about the direction its taking.  I'm still experiencing a bit of freak-out and anxiety from time to time, but overall I'm embracing the turn...just going to deal one day at a time & trust in myself because I do anything I set my mind to.  Annnnnd....having my kid along this time, makes it perfect.

College Life

Exhibit B:  Still a doormat

Yep.  Still letting people walk all over me.  I truly believe some part of me will always be a doormat.  I've spent so many years allowing people to use me that I've essentially taught them that its OK to mistreat me, that I come second.  I've failed to be more assertive.  Failed to set healthy boundaries befitting a strong sense of self-worth.  Its dumb...I know.  I'm amazing but I don't always remember that little nugget of truth.  I seriously want to kick my own ass, like all time.  It would not be a lie saying I'm working on it because I am, it is slow going but it is all part of the process to regress occasionally. 

I've stood up to family, friends, and my ex husband.  But, I've also bit my tongue and stayed silent far more often.  That's what needs to change.  I'm not a fan of confrontation, I avoid it diligently.  But, not all confrontation is unhealthy.  Sometimes it is more unhealthy to bottle.  I always feel terrible after a situation passes where I should have stood up for myself.  My self-esteem takes a hit and it takes a while until I recover.  I have loving, supportive friends and family members who I lean on...even if they don't know they're helping me, they have never abandoned me.

Skeletor Is One Wise Dude

 

He Smiled And All I Thought Was 'Oh Shit'

The twenty-second blog challenge topic is...

Something I Planned That Turned Out Not As Expected...

My mind is kind of a jumbled mess right now...so this post, more than likely, will be equally as jumbled, and maybe a touch messy.  My mom is down visiting, she arrived last week.  There is some turmoil happening for her back in Colorado and she is using this visit as an opportunity to make a plan.  Supporting her right now, volunteering to be someone she can lean on is something I gladly & readily do...but seeing her emotional and low is really hurting my heart.  My daughter turns six on Thursday.  A joyous day that is starting to be overshadowed by the multitude of tasks needing accomplishing by Saturday...the day we are having the actual party.  Last minute cancellations, flaky friends/family members, and my father pressuring me to host participate in a second party/BBQ at his house later that day are really testing my patience.

Annnnd, I'm pretty sure my period is on its way so that always ups the emotional-hunger level to Bat-Shit Crazy.

Time of month tiger memes are 100% accurate

 

On top of all the other crazy that is my life right now, and there is more than I mentioned above, I got my heart broken this weekend.  Welllll, that might be over doing it a bit...a more accurate description might be that my heart got tased by a mid-level, girly, pink taser with jewels and a tassel.  I saw it coming, I can admit that.  Doesn't make it easier though.  I saw signs but choose not to address it or just straight ignored them.  That was a mistake, one I keep repeating.  A mistake I've been making since I started dating in my teens.  Being aware of my inability to approach new "relationships" cautiously, I planned on doing things differently post-divorce.  I did really well in the beginning.  I went out with 5 guys and never once over invested.  I paid close attention to their actions as well as what came out of their mouths.

**For example, this one guy, hottest guy I've ever gone out with (still makes me audibly sigh when I think about him), tried to play me, and let me tell you, his date game was strong.  He had perfected that, "I'm a good guy beneath this bad boy exterior" thing. That's like girl kryptonite, to be honest, and any girl who says she's not effected by those guys are either a liar or a socialist.  This dude was like a dating chameleon, oozing charm and persuasion...he became what ever he needed to be in order to bed his intended target.  In the time it took me to drink one beer, I learned his game.  Homeboy had a girlfriend back home and was just sport fucking girls out of boredom or loneliness or because he's a truly terrible person.

Guy #6 came out of nowhere, literally, he's the subject of my spontaneity post. Everything about our interaction was so different than anything I've ever done in my life, he is the antithesis of every guy I've ever gone out with.  Maybe that is why everything went to Hell in a hand basket.  He kept me off-balance which resulted in me abandoning my own rules and initial plan.  Our time together was brief, 6 weeks or so, but damn...it left one hell of a mark.  I came across a quote by Hemingway a long time ago and it has stuck with me all these years...maybe because I turn to writing when I can't make sense of people or the world or the thoughts in my head.  So after this weekend, I'm going to write about Guy #6 and the mess that resulted when my heart decided to go off-script.

I revisit the night I met Guy #6 and still feel a smile spread across my face.  Even after everything, I know my reaction to that memory will never change.  Like I said in my other post, I knew this was going to be a great date pretty early on.  Him and I both found ourselves making excuses to causally touch.  A hand on the arm as you lean to speak.  Grabbing my thigh after making a joke or playful teasing.  Brushing popcorn off a shoulder...part of the fun of the production was throwing popcorn at each other and the actors on stage.  After the show we went to a nearby bar for a couple of drinks.  It was there, standing by the bar he pulled me in and kissed me.  No warning.  Without permission.  Just took it like it was his all along.  And, it was then that the world seemed to crack open.  It was like a scene out of a goddamn movie where the background and people blurred, accompanied by some cheesy power ballad.  It was the type of kiss love songs and fucking sonnets are written about.  He kissed me like he was drowning and I was air.  *Embellishment might have been added to this account*  We couldn't keep our hands off each other the rest of the night, not in a gross, obscene PDA way, but in a tangible, inability to break contact sort of way.  A man actually pulled me aside and made a comment about the way we, or me...I can't remember, looked at one another.  I awkwardly laughed the man's comment off but can't help but wonder what he saw when he looked at Guy #6 and I...what would make a complete stranger say something like that to two other complete strangers, booze fueled or not.  I didn't "go home" with him that night, but I did see him the following night and multiple times after that.

Everything was extremes with him. The highs were epic.  He had this inherent sense of what I wanted from him without prompting...that or he just made decisions based off his own wants and they happened to align with mine.  He never asked, he just took.  The effect he had on me was truly seductive and I grew to crave it.  His touch was fire, igniting my senses to a point where I thought I might break apart.  His eyes had this look in them, a mischievous glint that you knew promised a bit of sting, but you welcomed it because you knew the pleasure would supersede the pain. I've never experienced anything quite like it, and I'm sure I never will again.  I grew to covet the feel of his arms around me, the resonance of his laugh, a smile that always elicited a smile of my own, and the way he made me push past personal boundaries.  I guess you could say I was "in lust" with him and won't argue with you.  What was different about this is hard to articulate...maybe I should think of a metaphor or something.  The way I feel felt was unfamiliar.  The intensity was off-putting and I didn't understand any of it.  Feeling this way after so little time scared the shit out of me.  I mean come on, that is crazy...feeling that way...it is fucking nuts and needed to cease and desist.  But, at the time I didn't care.

He was the prettiest hell I've ever been in and I didn't mind burning at all.

The lows were brutal.  Confusion. Despondence. Anger.  Whether is was self-induced or not, I felt all of it and then some.  The emotional whiplash was doing a number on my heart and dignity.  A friend asked me why I put up with it...why I stuck it out if I wasn't receiving the treatment I wanted & deserved.  Honestly, I shouldn't have.  We barely knew each other and there was little investing taking place.  I should have walked away the moment I started getting weird vibes or at least spoke up about what was causing displeasure.  I know all that, but there were moments when he seemed to soften and allowed me a peek behind the curtain.  He started to open up and share a little, started to invite me into aspects of his world a bit.  But just as quickly, he pushed me out like an unwanted trespasser.  The push-pull was torturous.

Lying in the crook of his arm, his skin warming the side of my face, while he scrolled through his Facebook news feed Sunday morning, I was listening to the staccato sound of his heartbeat when it hit me.  My heart sank as I realized how much I wanted him, wanted moments like this.  I realized somewhere along the way, the plan I had carefully constructed, had been scrapped...I had totally blown it.  It didn't matter what his past was, no matter what he had done, no matter how many had come before me,  he moved me chemically more than anyone I had ever met, that all others seemed to pale in comparison. I knew I didn't want a full-on relationship, but I was invested and didn't want to stagnate, trapped in some physical relationship bumpin' uglies until we got bored.  I didn't need to put a label on it or for him to make some grand, public declaration either.  So I gathered my courage and, being the mature adult I am, I asked the question I had been too afraid to ask via text message, I know, I know. Don't judge.  Wide open and vulnerable, I waited for him to answer, waited all day.  His response was not the one I wanted to hear.  He told me he didn't know what he wanted...

but we all know what that really means.

The feelings I have had defied all logic and reason.  I question my sanity, repeatedly.  It was crazy, but maybe...just maybe, it was the right kind of crazy.  The type of crazy I needed to experience & feel just once.  I got lost in the euphoria, true, but I never lost sight of what I truly wanted.  I wasn't going to compromise what I wanted for tangled sheets and kiss-swollen lips. I could have handled that last Sunday differently, and given the opportunity for a do-over, I know I would do just that.  But, that's the truly tragic thing...you never think the last time is the last time.  You think there will be more.  Just as I got used to feeling like I was wanted, he took it away.  Like it wasn't mine to have, like he gave it to me by mistake.  Guy #6 gave me something some people go a lifetime never experiencing.  Passion.  Heat.  Unbridled & consuming.  I do not desire mediocre, I want to drown in someone.  His rejection and my feeling of defeat is raw and sharp right now, but I don't regret a single minute spent with him.  You always run the risk that things won't play out the way you want them to.  Maybe it won't work out, but maybe seeing if it does will be the best adventure ever.

What's a post about affairs of the heart without

a Taylor Swift song?!?

A shit post...that's what.

I'm Totally Spontaneous, Given Proper Planning

The twenty-first blog challenge topic is...

A Spontaneous Moment That Turned Out Fantastic...

If you were to ask friends and family to describe me, I'm convinced many adjectives would be used...funny, kind, generous, quirky, total badass.  However, spontaneous would not be one of them.  I'm a planner.  I like it.  I'm more comfortable, less anxious, when a plan is in place, even if that plan consists of only meeting up at a certain time on a certain day.  So spontaneity is definitely not a strength...never will be and I'm ok with that.

I started dating again earlier this year.  It has been interesting to say the least.  I've never been a serial dater so I feel like such the novice, and I have a somewhat unrealistic view of how the dating world works.  You meet.  Talk for a bit, see if going out is really what you want to do.  Make plans.  Go on date.  Simple right?!  I've learned its totally not.  It's like the exact opposite.

My approach to dating could be described as methodical, in a non-serial killer type of way.  So when I met a guy over a month ago, it started the same way.  The logical way.  The safe way.  We started talking on a Thursday, a few exchanges here and there.  The next day we were talking and he mentioned he was going out that night with friends and said that it was a shame I didn't have a sitter because I could go with them.  My daughter was actually going to her dad's for the weekend...so when I passed that information along, he pressed the issue of meeting up that night.  

Instant sweating.  Partial brain function went all full-stop on me. This wasn't how I normally did things.  We have only been talking for like a day!  I don't just make plans like this the same day!  Calm down with the crazy talk mister!  I put him off with the whole, "I don't know.  Let me get back to you after lunch because the control freak in me is having a major meltdown and Imma need to take a minute to process your request."   

*Part of that was said internally*

So I talked myself down off the ledge, made some very compelling arguments to myself I might add, and agreed to go out with him that night to watch a production put on by a community theater group.  It was actually something that I've been wanting to do for years...so I rationalized my consent in part due to the fact that even if the date tanked, I would be doing something I've had a real desire to experience.  I was such a mess.  The methodology I normally use when preparing for a date was not an option.  I was forgetting stuff, totally unfocused, and still sweating...and I don't mean in the figurative sense.

The hour had arrived and my nerves were shot.  Due to me having to drop my daughter with her dad, we agreed to just meet up at the theater.  When I rounded the corner and saw him, I had this weird internal shift.  It was unfamiliar and unexpected.  I know that doesn't make much sense but its sometimes hard for me to translate certain feelings/emotions/reactions.  He has this really great smile, one you can't help but smile back at.  He made me feel comfortable with an easy-going nature and quickness to laugh.  I knew after about 5 minutes this was going to be a fantastic date...and it was.

I can honestly say it was the best date I've ever been on in my life.  The play was hilarious and the company was amazing.  Even though I was meeting every single one of them for the first time, I engaged myself in conversations and just kind of let go of any "first date protocols" I had been following.  I had fun...I allowed myself to open up a bit more and have honest to God fun on this spur of the moment group date with complete strangers.  I never thought the day I would do something like that would ever arrive because that is sooo not my nature.  I am not that person.  I'm proud I did something that made me uncomfortable and slightly neurotic because it ended up being one of the best nights I've had in years.

 

I Miss Going To The Bathroom Alone

The twentieth blog challenge topic is...

A Truly Spiritual Moment In My Life...

I honestly don't know what happened, why the lapse in posts...my bad.

The birth of my daughter could be described as spiritual.  If you call blacking out due to blood loss after vomiting on the anesthesiologist spiritual. Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.

Bodily fluids aside, my kid coming into the world was profound.  I've always felt that I had been drifting along, no real purpose, no real direction.

• Yes I was enrolled in college...spent more time tolerating classes, bored, then really engaging and being passionate about the education I was receiving.

• Yes I had jobs...all were nothing more than paychecks, also devoid of passion.

• Yes I had relationships...they had love, but they pale in comparison to the depth and extent of love I have for my child.

• Yes I had/have family...I love my family, but the bond forged with my child over-shadows any I have with any other.

The birth of child, for most people, is one of the biggest life events they will ever experience.  For me, it definitely was and continues to be day after day.  I know that there is meaning to what I do everyday, a purpose to why I drag my ass out of bed each morning.  I'm thankful I have been blessed with this responsibility and no matter its weight, no matter how difficult/stressful/frustrating/liberating/joyful/exhilarating, I would not choose to live my life any other way.

Old Wounds

The nineteenth blog challenge topic is...

A Dark, Turbulent Moment In My Life...

Yikes...this post is not one I enjoyed writing.  There is only one "moment" that comes to mind and its not my divorce.  I've made mention in an earlier blog, you can read it here, but didn't delve too deep into the specifics.  It seems like a lifetime ago, but I hate revisiting that time in my life, it still causes pain.

Nonetheless, here's the true, lengthy account of a girl and the abusive man she loved...

 

I met Sam (not his real name btw) in early 1999.  It was the final semester of my senior year of high school and I was eagerly anticipating graduation...and the subsequent college experience.  One of my four best friends mentioned to me that she knew Sam, in a manner of speaking, and that he had moved in down the road from her with his father quite recently.  He was older, 21 at the time, so that automatically made him more appealing.  Introductions were made and without really knowing it a relationship begun.  Sam could be described as quiet.  Soft spoken and reserved.  There was something that surrounded him though, it wasn't overt so you had to pay close attention. A shadow of danger carefully concealed behind the facade of a laid back demeanor.  If you listened to the stories he told or caught certain looks given, you could see it. It was almost like a shutter would close and his eyes took on an emptiness that was truly eerie.  I was so young that I didn't know how much trouble I had gotten myself into until it was too late.  I was naive and way too emotionally invested when he showed me what kind of person he really was.

It started small...it always does, doesn't it?  Sam was a big fan of beer & Crown.  In the beginning of the relationship his drinking wasn't an issue.  I was still in that euphoric state of having a new boyfriend so I was accommodating and not prone to be anything but happy.  I ignored many signs or downplayed them, maybe even made excuses.  The first instance of witnessing his volatile nature came when he had a friend from Oklahoma come down for a visit.  Sam, his friend, and a couple others went out for a "boys night."  The night consisted of heavy drinking, a strip club, and a broken hand.  I found out that Sam likes to hit things when drunk.  That night, the strip club's bathroom mirrors and his windshield where his victims.  I remember being really confused, a little wary, but mostly concerned for Sam and his broken hand.

Very little transpired while I was still in high school.  Just some drunken nights, but no violence toward me beyond mean words and occasional insults.  After graduating I moved to a nearby town to start college.  Around the same time, Sam found out his dad was moving back to Oklahoma.  So he had a choice to make:  go with his dad or stay and move in with me.  He stayed.  Sam and I only stayed in Texas for the fall semester, by January we were making plans to move to Oklahoma.  Sam couldn't hold down a good job and he wanted to be closer to his father.  The time we spent living together is when Sam started to put his hands on me.  Pushing, holding me against the wall were the beginning.  His drinking increased due to his unhappiness I suppose and I was an easy target.  Nothing & no one were safe when he spiraled.  He got so mad at me one night that he launched a Crown bottle across the courtyard of our apartment building complex.  It hit the opposite apartment's sliding glass door, shattering the door.  It was then I should have left, but he promised me that we would be happier in Oklahoma...life would be better.  I, sadly, believed him.

After moving to Oklahoma, things escalated.  The drinking didn't lessen, the pushing got harder, the insults got nastier, and I was totally alone and beginning to feel broken & lost.  I tried to talk to his dad, or hint at my concerns but he didn't want anything to do with that particular conversation.  I was ashamed so I hid it from my family.  I don't know how I managed it, but I gathered enough courage to leave him.  I moved to another town and got into my own apartment.  He followed shortly after and his attacks on me hit their peak.  He had never full out hit me before but that changed.  He called me incessantly.  The calls would range from tearful apologies to expletive laced rants & threats.  He would show up at my apartment drunk demanding I let him in.  He would threaten to kill himself or my family if I didn't open the door...and I believed him because he owned multiple guns.  So I would let him in.  I won't go into the gory details of those nights, most of which I think my brain has blocked in self-preservation.  They were nights filled with beatings.  Nights of shoving Crown Royal bags in my mouth & plugging my nose so I wouldn't be able to breathe.  Nights of taking a knife and shallowly carving his name into my stomach so others would know I was "his." The final straw that prompted me to no longer live alone was the night he force ably broke into my apartment and held a shotgun to my head.

As fate would have it, an older guy friend of mine was needing a roommate.  There was nothing remotely romantic, but it provided an opportunity for me to not live alone anymore and he would act as a deterrent & added safety measure.  Things seemed to settle.  Sam kind of faded into the background.  The calls and drunken visits stopped due in part to him starting a relationship with a fellow coworker.  For the first time in a long time I think I started to relax a little and breathe again.  That all changed early one morning months after that last attack...and this is the basis of this blog.

Sam called one morning spinning me a story of late night partying and being stranded far from his truck.  He assured me he had sobered up and had no one else he could call...we had work that night and without his truck he wouldn't make it.  For some dumbass reason I believed him.  I agreed to pick him up and take him to get his truck in the next town over.  His attack on me started almost immediately after I shifted my car into drive.  Its still kind of a blur.  I remember him yelling and insulting me while smoking a Black & Mild cigar...the scent of which makes me sick to this day.  He kept saying that "I burned him" and that I needed to stop crying because I had no right.  His tirade lasted miles and then something shifted.  He became silent and still.  I thought that he had run out of steam and this was my chance to pull over and make him get out.  Just as I started to pull off the highway he ground his lit cigar into my arm and told me that I just made a "stupid ass decision and was going to regret it."  He demanded I push in the cigarette lighter...his cigar needed to be re-lit after all.  When it popped, he casually lit his cigar again and handed it back...telling me to push it in again so it would get hot once more.  He pushed the cigar into my lower lip, I think he missed his intended target.  He just kept saying "do you see what you make me do?" as he burned me.  After that he changed tactics, the cigar wasn't doing enough damage.  Over and over he would take the hot car cigarette lighter and burn any exposed skin within arm's length, making me push it back in to reheat after each application.  He would push the lighter harder if I cried out so I silently endured burn after burn.   Choking me with one hand, he told me if I attempted to stop or slow down he would hurt me even more.  I guess he grew tired of burning me and that frustrated him.  He kept throwing my transmission stick from gear to gear in anger.  After 4 or five times doing that, he stilled once more.  I don't know what thought or realization transpired within him but he very calmly said, "I'm done.  I've had enough."  For a split second I felt a measure of relief, but it was premature.  Sam grabbed the steering wheel, pulling the car into oncoming traffic.  I fought for control and was successful.  That angered him so he doubled his efforts and grabbed the wheel again.  Each time I was able to keep us from a head-on collision.  I don't know if it was the fact that he was still intoxicated or was making a half-hearted attempt, but I managed to get us to his truck without crashing.  I was preparing to make a run for it, but he surprised me by quickly exiting my car as we pulled into a parking lot.  I immediately locked my doors and began reversing.  He was a bit faster though and punched my windshield, cracking the passenger side, before I could get clear.

I don't think I've ever driven as fast as I did making my way back to my house.  I was scared he was going to follow me home and finish what he started in my car.  I didn't have a cell phone at the time and in my panicked state I just wanted to get home to use the house phone instead of stopping somewhere else.  I called my mom, instead of the police, and she instructed me to hang up and call the police.  I hung up and just stared at the phone.  I think I mentally checked out.  I don't remember what was running through my mind but I couldn't call the police.  I called her back, bawling my eyes out, and told her I just couldn't do it.  She calmly said, "I know honey.  I knew you couldn't so I did it for you.  They are on their way now."  They arrested Sam that day.  They found him passed out in his bathtub in what appeared to be an attempted suicide.  A restraining order was issued.  He was ordered to pay to restitution for my windshield.  I quit the company we both worked for and started working somewhere else.  I started college again and began a new relationship.  Years passed and I never thought I would see his face again.  I was wrong.

It was a Saturday afternoon.  It was sunny and warm. It was a slow day at work with not many customers out shopping.  I was working with a man named Jason when I heard the front door chime, signalling a customer had entered the shop's lobby.  I rounded the counter and headed to the front.  A couple was browsing, a baby in the woman's arms.  I offered my canned greeting, telling them to come find me if they needed anything or had questions.  The man turned and it was if all sound left the world.  It was Sam.  My past had just collided with my present.  I was already starting to turn to leave so I'm not sure if he recognized me.  I sought out Jason, told him I would explain later but I was going to the stockroom until the couple up front left.  He muttered a confused "Ok, no problem" and I quickly fled.  I'm pretty sure I sprinted to the haven the stockroom offered.  The minute the door closed I began to wretch.  I dry heaved until the tears started.  Jason found me a little while later sitting on the floor between two shelving units at the back of the room.  It was apparent by my state or by the look on my face that something was really wrong, so he softly told me they were gone and he would be upfront manning the store...I could stay back here as long as I wanted.

I left Oklahoma a few months later, and I will never return.

BFF's 4 Ever

The eighteenth blog challenge topic is...

My Best Friend and Why She Is Special...

Best friends are great aren't they?!  I mean they know all about you, all about how you can be stubborn, a little bit bitchy, say & do dumb stuff, and all your quirks...but still they stay.  They stay because they also can be all those things.  Establishing the friendship I have with my best friend is when I realized what a true friend was.  Someone who would always love you...the imperfect you, the confused you, the wrong you...because that is what people are supposed to do.  Best friends love one another with a special strain of love that sometimes still baffles me.  Though I sometimes feel unworthy, I cherish the friendship my best friend and I share because its a constant reminder that certain bonds/love/connections truly endure and can overcome all kinds of obstacles all the while filling us up with happiness, joy, and a sense of belonging.

I met my best friend in 2008 while living in Japan.  Her husband worked in the same office as my ex husband and they were invited over to our house for a BBQ.  Now I'm a little standoffish when meeting new people so I didn't talk with her all that much, but I do remember that she talked non-stop, bubbly is the adjective that comes to mind, and seemed extremely genuine.  I remember she was pregnant at the time so she kept making her husband participate in the drinking games for both of them.  He got hammered and it was hilarious.

I don't know why she did it, considering my our less then friendly meeting, but she kept coming back and pursuing a friendship with me.  So here we are...7 years, 4 kids, 2 PCSes, and 1 divorce later...still in it together.

There is quite an age difference between us which normally wouldn't work, at least on my end.

My attitude 99% of the time

That saying an old soul is kind of dumb but totally applies here.  Not only is she younger, but is pretty much my antithesis in so many ways.  She is outgoing, I am not.  She is warm, friendly, and puts people at ease...I am not, initially.  She's driven, takes no shit, and is always there for those in need.  I think those are things we share, others too, or the friendship wouldn't work...or wouldn't be a healthy/reciprocal type of friendship.  Oh, and did I mention she is German?  Spontaneous outbursts in a foreign language or inserting German in between English sentences, occasional nudity, and other random European type behavior always keeps the friendship on its toes.

She's raising three amazing boys and has a husband that adores her.  She's managed to successfully balance two careers, a home, college, and a social life...and makes it look easy.  I know its the furthest thing from easy, but she always accomplishes what she sets her mind too.

She inspires me and I admire her for the woman she is.  I admire her for the fact she took me for who I am.  She learned to deal with my bullshit because I can be a difficult person sometimes, but she still stuck around.  She accepts my flaws and shortcomings, and that shows me she honestly cares.  She has always been on my side, 100% loyal and protective.  We just connected, only God knows why, and when you truly connect with someone that connection never dies.  Its true that they can buried, ignored, or abandoned but they never are broken.  If you genuinely resonate with someone that bond stays intact despite distance, time, situation, lack of presence, or circumstance.  If its truly real, you'll instantly be swept back up as if you've never been a day without each other.  Real friendships live forever.

This has legitimately happened more than once.

Movies, Movies & More Movies

The seventeenth blog challenge topic is...

My Favorite Movie And What It Means To Me...

Oh my God...this is sooooo hard!  I have so many favorites and I don't think I can definitively say one of them is my favorite-favorite.  The only way I can get this post accomplished, that I see, is breaking it down by genre...some of which might be non-traditional.

P.S. this is a long one

Drama:  The Prestige (2006)

Great cast but anything with David Bowie playing Tesla & I'm 100% on board

Musical:  Phantom of the Opera (2004) 

Who would have thought Gerard Butler could sing like that?!?

War:  The Hurt Locker (2008)

Don't normally like war movies, but this one made an impression

Romantic Comedy:  Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion (1997)

I don't care what I'm doing, if this comes on...I will sit down and watch it.

Comedy:  Blades of Glory (2007)

Cult Classic:  Heathers (1988)

I don't know how many times I've quoted this movie

Horror:  Stephen King's It (1986)

This movie traumatized me so bad, to this day, I have never seen the second half.  AND...I heard they are doing a remake because scarring a whole new generation is probably for the best.

Fantasy:  Labyrinth (1986) 

This one came close to being my all-time favorite

I'm pretty sure this movie birthed my Bowie love

And I'm pretty sure all of us wanted to be Jennifer Connelly

Action Adventure:  National Treasure (2004)

Say what you want about Nicolas Cage, but I love this movie

Comic Book Based:  The Avengers (2012)

I don't think I've ever been excited about a movie as much as I was for this one

Had the best villain too...

Disney:  Beauty and the Beast (1991)

Still able to sing along with all the songs

Action Comedy:  The Rundown (2003)

Seann William Scott is always hilarious, The Rock got his ass kicked by a tiny man, and if that wasn't enough...Christopher motherfucking Walken

Thriller:  Fracture (2007)

Anthony Hopkins is King of the Psychological Thriller

Series:  Harry Potter (2001-2011)

Potterhead 4 Life

Romance:  Pride & Prejudice (2005)

*Movie In Gifs*

First up we meet Elizabeth Bennet...she has a bunch of sisters and a marriage obsessed mother

Next we meet Darcy...total dick straight out the gate

Makin' the first move

Da Fuck?!?

Looking for redemption

...swing and a miss

*Then a bunch of stuff happens which leads to this*

*Then a bunch more stuff happens, and thanks to that dumb bitch Kitty...this happens*

 

Awwww.....

*The End*

This happens more than I'd care to admit