The Pros of Waiting When I Don't Want To...

Well, it was an adventurous Holiday Season. Taking Mister Wonderful Home to meet the folks, showing him where I grew up and where I went to college, being "normal" with him, being upgraded to First Class on the flight home -- for no extra charge! The folks loved him, the sibs were nice to him, he was a hit with the aunts, the uncles, the little tiny cousins, the big cousins, and the dogs.

Things are going so well, one may wonder what qualms still exist. But some do, for whatever reason. So what have I left to do, but look on the bright side? There has to be a bright side, as a wonderful person is in love with me! Being in love with someone who has a history of being impuslive and rushing into things is a great reason to wait. I know, because he fell in love with me so fast... he was the one who convinced me that it was going to work. Looking at his past, I see points where he went in full-on (I'd have put on the brakes)... Being that straightforward and unapologetic is one of the things about him which I most admire; MW is a personable and successful person who I want to be more like.

When it comes to me, the only thing he holds back on is moving forward. While anyone is my position can't help but feel like they are waiting for a seat on the last life-boat on the Titanic... I see him holding a seat over there for me... Way over there. But there are so many deck chairs in the way, my job currently, feels like it is to rearrange them so I can get to him.

Last night it came to me like a ton of bricks: the reason why we choose the ones we love, is completely independent of anything they can do -- it's just who they are. So it's really dumb of me to think I have to do anything to make him feel more comfortable with choosing me for his partner. Each time it seems we have turned a corner, I realize that his same qualms are probably there -- can he live with my immaturity? my youth? my apparent disorganization?

When those questions are answered, the waiting will be over. In the mean time... my questions -- his age? his indecision? his faults? They are but a banner flapping in the wind, asking "Do ya care?".... Sure I care. It's something which is given consideration each and every day. But my heart gets two votes and my head only one. In some ways I resent anyone who stops long enough to think things out -- how can they not know what they want, where their hearts lie? And do I even want to be associated with someone who is like this? But in long run... I know that the problems the first time around were precipitated because of my heart getting two votes and my head abstaining out of fear of being beaten silly by the flapping, pounding craziness that masqueraded as my heart.

There is a happy medium. And when I find it... I will be happy.

Something's Gotta Give...

Yes, I'm watching the Jack Nicholson movie by the same name... right now. And it makes me cry. A very cute movie, it reminds me of me. Strong woman who is afraid to love again. She keeps crying and writing. Reminds me of the only way I could post a vehement blog ten months ago.

Things are so much calmer than a year ago. And yet my head now feels as though it would explode on me. School, doctors visits, and taking my man to meet the fam. I'm forgetting things and not caring about it. And it worries me. My neck hurts and I'm afraid of being alone. And I'm afraid of being alone and being sick. Afraid of my depression and afraid that I will cry always, if I am not on meds. And afraid that Mister Wonderful will stop loving me because he also does not understand that my depression is something that I can't help, simply by bucking up and getting a more positive attitude.

Postive attitude has nothing to do with it: when I was a kid, my mom was always afraid that we kids would harm ourselves because we were sad about life. Heck.... I love life. So much adventure! So why can't I feel like it sometimes? I get so tired of pretending that everything is fine. And I guess I feel fine on these meds. But it scares M.W. sometimes, that I'm going to be one of those weird women who go crazy and hold their family hostage. It breaks my heart. I want to be normal and well adjusted! Still passionate and normal!

My mind is scattered and I'm on overnights. Not a great way to end a term. Say a prayer for my health, my rest, and my grades! And my bills. Gotta pay 'em, ya know.

Both Sides Now

I made my first web-page in 1998. The very first thing I put on it was these lyrics.

By Joni Mitchell...

Rows and flows of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere,
I've looked at clouds that way.
But now they only block the sun,
They rain and snow on everyone
So many things I would have done,
But clouds got in my way.

I've looked at clouds from both sides now
From up and down and still somehow
It's cloud's illusions I recall
I really don't know clouds at all

Moons and Junes and ferris wheels,
The dizzy dancing way that you feel
As every fairy tale comes real,
I've looked at love that way.
But now it's just another show,
You leave 'em laughing when you go
And if you care, don't let them know,
Don't give yourself away.

I've looked at love from both sides now
From give and take and still somehow
It's love's illusions I recall
I really don't know love at all

Tears and fears and feeling proud,
To say "I love you" right out loud
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds,
I've looked at life that way.
Oh but now old friends they're acting strange,
They shake their heads,
they say I've changed
Well something's lost,
but something's gained
In living every day.

I've looked at life from both sides now
From win and lose and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall
I really don't know life at all

I've seen better days.. then the bottom drops out...

Yee-haw folks! Just learned my job's in jeopardy! Not the Ken Jennings type, either. :( No, we lost a contract. And it was our only contract. Not that I'm out of a job right now.. but I could be by the beginning of the year.

Which... brings me to a whole new set of issues: should I look for work? Should I see what happens here first? I gotta be honest -- I've been wanting to move to California for some time. Since Mister Wonderful lives there and we are in love... wouldn't that be ideal? It all works out right? Not when both parties are protecting themselves from being hurt by their ex's.

There's got to be a place where we can go back and find enough trust in ourselves to take a chance on the future -- we are both standing here (figuratively) and yelling (with our hearts) about our undying love, how we are not going to give up on the other (yet)... and still there is no compromise. A long-standing gripe I have, is that the person of no action wins, when there is a question "whether or not?" The answer, by default... is always not. Unless both parties agree.

When I learned this afternoon that I might not be here forever... I was jumping for joy. My dream was finally coming true and I could leave Oklahoma for the land of my dreams! But by the time I finished explaining the sitch to M.W... I wondered if we would be parting ways soon? Granted, I appreciate that he thinks highly of my career. But does he think that highly of me? It can't be helped... the thought that if I put my career ahead of him, then it stays ahead of him. I am a mobile girl for the time being, but I want to settle down a.s.a.p. Moving to the east coast for a year or two or three sounds more like a set-back or a pre-break-up move. Definitely not something one would do, if they were in love with you.

So I'm not looking for work farther than 2 hours drive from M.W. and that's that! Either I work locally, or I stay put. I'm in love with the guy and when it comes down to it... if he loves me too, then he'll figure it out before I get too sad or too tired to wait for him to make up his mind. And if he doesn't figure it out... then he'll be all alone and (much as I hate to say it) I'll move on.

Geez, I totally bummed me out. I love the lug. Just hope he realizes it, too.

Buzz a Buzz Buzz Buzz Buzz Buzzzzzzz zzzz!

Hate to admit that I began taking chemical neural stimulants in the form of anti-depressants. But I did. Started out a week ago, with little tension headaches and talking really fast and not sleeping. By yesterday, got used to it and slept okay without jittering my legs and stuff. Sick today and sleeping most of it. Now it's 1:30 AM and I couldn't sleep if I wanted to. The fast-talkin' is back, as is the leg-jimmying and the tension headaches. Sneezing that won't end, and my feet are too hot.

Feel like I need to turn off a switch or soemthing -- CALM THE HECK DOWN, GRRL!

zzzz!

It gives me pause...

1) That a number of the President's cabinet members have resigned. Like, don't they have faith? Don't they even believe that the President can successfully navigate a second term?

2) That Nicollette Sheridan and Anna Nicole Smith were completely and totally toasted during the AMA's the other night. Have they no shame? Wasn't there someone attempting to screen out the drunks and addicts? It's embarassing.

3) That I can be so completely enraptured by a man who I've only seen in person, about 30 times. C'mon... wouldn't that give you pause too?

However, for the past 18 months, we've chatted on the phone, on average, seven times per day (20-30 minutes each). That's more than most people I know chat with their S.O.'s.

By the way... Awesome to see that Scott Peterson's Jury came back with a conviction against the man. What a freakin' disgrace of him! It just makes you shake your head in shame.

Interpretive Dance

There was a point in my youth, when I did everything with purpose. Where I placed my feet when I walked, how many sips I took out of the water fountain. Not that I haven't, at times, considered the entire sitch a bit obsessive-compulsive.... But in reality, I wanted to do everything with a purpose.

These days, I realize that purpose is called God's will in my life. But then... my age was 13 and Daddy taught us to not be afraid of superstitions. Still, I was. So everything I did -- Everything -- was in multiples of thirteen. (I can't believe I just confessed that, but I did so live with it!). Imagine how debilitating that would be to a girl who was gawky, too tall, a little chubby, and infinitely unpopular? Everything about me shouted GEEK. Even my twinbie thought I was a geek. And not a smart one.

(As a curious aside to anyone who wonders how and why I push myself so hard to succeed? On account of because of the childhood of ruthless fun-makers of whose jokes I seemed, always, to be the butt. Look at where they are now. And look at me. Heh.).

So I was thinking how much I wanted my life to mean something by my movements, and how pi$$ed off I was, because Momma didn't enroll me in ballet classes. I could've been a ballerina! I just know it!

Like a virgin?
Try Ninja. There were times that I would place my hands in ways that were quite ninja-like as I walked down the lane at Mom's and Dad's farm. The height of cool looking purposeful movement of my youth. What about now? Well, about 5 years ago, Gene Roddenberry's Earth: Final Conflict. The way they navigated their ships. I ache. I ACHE with yearning to be that pilot!

The moral of the story is that it's important to have your movements be meaningful. There was a time not so long ago when I was loath to move. I was a big fat slob and I knew it. Now I move because I am running from something -- being unhealthy and being unhappy and being fat and having heart disease.

So the next time someone tells me that they only run when something is chasing them... try picturing the grim reaper with your death at hand. That's what will happen if you don't take care of the bod that God gave ya!

Anyways, the point is that inasmuch as I despise interpretive dance... I probably am an interpretive dancer, deep down in my heart.

Rant.

Oh nevermind. I just don't have it in me today...

Get your freak-on.. OFF!

Mister Wunderbar is on his way here in one week. Just a visit.

He sent me an e-card the other day quoting the book of Ruth, chapter 1 verse 16: "Where you go I will go and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God." It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It made me burst with happiness. I felt full.

Things are not so easy or fuzzy today and I know its that "one week freak-out" that we always go thru... Exactly one week before we see eachother. Now that's not true: we used to freak out a few weeks before meeting. Then a couple of weeks. Now it's down to one week. But why the freak-out? It's like "I love ya honey, but I just can't smile"... Remember that? The childhood game, I mean. I love you honey... but I just can't smile.

I was thinking... never let 'em see you sweat... but that's just not me. I need to be needed just as much as I need. And love? Don't even get me started. I have enough love to do it all by myself. But it doesn't work that way. It takes two.

My hope is that one day the one week freak will whittle down to a few hour freak -- preferably after one of us has already boarded the plane. And then who knows? Perhaps we'll just get giddy before we drive home from work only to find the other one already there waiting with a smile.

Until then I have to pretend to be as cool as ice without letting it break my heart.

It's just common damn courtesy:

1) To take a shower before you work an overnight shift -- you coworkers will appreciate it. Also, to use an anti-perspirant/deoderant, and brush and floss, as well as using a good anti-bacterial mouthwash.

2) To hold the door open for the person behind you, so it doesn't close in their nose.

3) To meet someone's eyes as you walk by their desk; you may be shy, but by averting your eyes, you come off as a b*7ch.

4) To not peddle cr4p on your website, just to make a cheap buck. Sell good stuff and people will gladly pay.

5) Have a little heart: there is someone out there who could use a break today, and it's only right that you should respond to their need if humanly possible.

Someday soon...

California
by Phantom

We've been on the run
Driving in the sun
Looking out for #1
California here we come
Right back where we started from

Hustlers grab your guns
Your shadow weighs a ton
Driving down the 101
California here we come
Right back where we started from
California!Here we come!

On the stereo
Listen as we go
Nothing's gonna stop me now
California here we come
Right back where we started from

Pedal to the floor
Thinkin' of the roar
Gotta get us to the show
California here we come
Right back where we started from
California!Here we come!

A preemptive strike against myself,

Why does everything I do, seem so hard? Why does it all backfire? Just last night, my own mother asked why my life seems like one road block after another. I'll tell you why: because I take risks.

One never knows what one can have until they try.
For instance, things have been getting really serious with Mister Wonderful. So serious, in fact, that we are contemplating a possible commitment. There is no question on my part, about what I want. But I am given pause by two things: the uncertainty of M.W. himself, and my anxiousity to his uncertainty. Both of us could cease to exist tomorrow. There are not certainties in life. Well, except for the Love of Jesus. But I am talking about the love of a man who I've fallen deeply in love with.

Now, about that preemptive strike...
There is a parent in my life. To protect her identity, I'll just call her "mom". She shouted at us kids when we were little. She spanked us with her hands, and when we got older, the leather belt or a yard-stick. Frequently she felt out of control, and like a failure. Her only wish as a parent was to not be abusive like her step-father was to her. Frankly, she wasn't as bad as he. But she did leave a little to be desired.

Fast-forward to the prior paragraph about the serious commitment plans with M.W. Should I voice my concerns about not repeating history? I'm afraid I will. Kids, you know me by now. And you know I already voiced my concerns. But perhaps I should have taken a blunt object and beaten myself about the head and neck, in order to stop from sharing these concerns: the only purpose they served today was to introduce the variable "x" into already uncertain plans of "y" and "n", Yes, and No, respectively.

No matter what I do...
It seems like I can't make anything right. So does that mean if I stop worrying, there will be no one in the forest to hear whether or not trees make noise when they fall?

Frankly, the reason I told M.W. about my fear of parental shortcoming, was to divert that from happening in my life. Now I don't think it will happen, but not out of partnership, but because this wonderful man does not trust me.

Yes, you can say it: it's my own fault. I know. It just sucks that one can be tried and convicted over something they never did, but in fact, were afraid they were going to do but did not want to.

Can we say Minority Report? Take that, M.W. I'm not going to do it. And I'm asking for your help so that we can make that a reality that never happens.

Remember when....

$500 would solve all of your problems? Today, I'm not sure even $5000 could come close.

$100?

$20?

$5? Okay, the last time $5 solved all my problems, I was six. But you get the point.

Remember when the only things you needed to make the world right, were a Manderin Orange Minute Maid Pop (glass bottle, of course), a bag of chips, and driving around in your boyfriend's car on a Saturday night?

...when your world revolved around when, exactly, to wear that new pink skirt... and not to wear it too often, so as not to be gauche?

...when you had to be careful not to tell your mom that your sister was out most of the night, and hence your sister would do your chores for most of the coming week?

Ahh. Those were the days. Days, by the way, which I mostly hated.

Now is good. Mister Wonderful fills my heart with joy, I have a good job, a promising future, and the desire to have a gigantic family of my own. These, my friends, are the days.

I believe her....

The woman who made sexual harassment allegations against Bill O'Reilly last week. I believe that she is telling the truth and I'll tell you why: Because that really is how some men treat women in the workplace. My former employer treated me that way, as did several of the employees there.

It seems to me that we women think it's cool to be "tough" and play with the big boys. Little do we realze that we actually have to act like one of the boys in order to function in school and in life. Recently it was pointed out to me that men might get the wrong impression of me, by my spending time trying to get my work and my homework right... by socializing and by having dinner and participating in study-groups, pizza night, and outings to the bookstore.

In retrospect, all of that time seems quite excessive. But the point is that to me, at least, it never even occurred to me that this guy might get the wrong impression or have an agenda. Mister Wonderful had an interesting point that I've misjudged lots of people, lots of times... with negativity being the result. It would be naive of me to say that at least a majority of the time, I didn't see it coming. Because I did see it coming. Denial, my friends, is not just a river in Egypt.

Didn't someone once say that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, whilst expecting a different result each time? Yeh... that's what they said. So I want to act differently because while I know that Mister Wonderful is probably at least partially right... I just don't want it to be true.

~~~

On another note:

About a year ago, I started cleaning house with my life. Effectively, I removed content from all online sources that might shine a less than flattering life on me or my life. Tonight I am taking that a few steps further... There are some people that I need to cut out of my life because they poison me.

It's funny that I discussed the very same topic with my Bible study last week or two weeks ago -- "When do you sever a relationship?" Well kids, I think I know: when there is no reason for it to exist, you know the person is never going to change, and whenever you interact with them, it ends up causing you grief on some other front in your life.

You'd think that I would feel emotional about this ... but it's more of a relief. Gettin' back to basics.

And marching down to campus tomorrow, to volunteer in the Women's Issues offices. To-morrow.

A clearly defined case of over-stepping one's own bounds...

Why oh why do we do this dance of give and take... advance and retreat? Eew. I keep blowing it big time. I'm just gonna edge back into my little rabbit hole and maintain radio silence for the time being.

Somehow I keep thinking things in my life are different. Perhaps I idealize them. And then they shatter, or else a breeze comes along a blows the pipe-dreams away like a whiff of smoke.

There is a reason why I am still here in the middle of nowhere. At least I know I'm somewhere I belong.

Pop Quiz

The following will help you know how well you know me. Give the best possible answer for each question, then tally up your score of correct answers (one point each) and look at the key to see how well you know me.


1) M & M ' s are:

A) The best snak-fud ever.
B) The initials of my favourite AACM.
C) Name of a record store.
D) All of the above
E) None of the Above


2) The Null Hypothesis is:

A) In statistics, the logical outcome of an experiment.
B) The answer to Chebyshev's Theorem.
C) Anything my boyfriend says.
D) A&B
E) A&C

3) My favourite beverages include:

A) coffee, ice cream or tequila.
B) chocolate.
C) worms.
D) All of the above.
E) None of the above.

4) My favourite types of movies are:

A) Action.
B) Reaction.
C) Thrillers (non-alien).
D) Romantic Comedy.
E) Adult Films.

5) I like my sister more than I like my boss.

True or False?

6) I like my boss more than I like worms and frogs.

True or false.

Answers:
1)D 2)E 3)A 4)C 5)True 6)False

Whelp, if ya got 5-6 right, you are either Jayleigh or Mister Wonderful. Anyone else who got that score is clearly telling prevarications. 3-4 right means that you are a good friend, and 1-2 right means that you clicked "Next Blog" and ended up here on a slow day (sorry!)

Too good to keep to myself

I have been an emotional basket case for a few days and I know it's because of the emotional states I'm going thru after my divorce. So i've done some research because I can't sleep. These are too good to keep to myself. Not sure if you'll get anything out of it yourself but I am finding my way around the way I feel and it's not so bad.



Index Page
http://www.divorceinfo.com/crud.htm

These pages caught my eye:

Grieving -- studies show that it takes two to three years to recover from a divorce.
http://www.divorceinfo.com/grieving.htm

Can't stop crying -- because you are able to cry now, your healing will be more complete later.
http://www.divorceinfo.com/cantstopcrying.htm

A divorce ceremony from the united methodist church (my Home)
http://www.divorceinfo.com/garyturnerservice.htm
Not that I would do this... but it was cathartic to read it.

Forming new romantic relationships -- take it slowly: the failure rate of marriages within two years of either partner's divorce is 85%!
http://www.divorceinfo.com/dating.htm

Divorce Sucks
http://www.divorceinfo.com/divorcestinks.htm

Lonliness
http://www.divorceinfo.com/loneliness.htm

Taking Care of yourself.
http://www.divorceinfo.com/careforself.htm

And finally from Mairrage Builders -- http://www.marriagebuilders.com/graphic/mbi3550_summary.html
Scroll to #9, the Policy of Joint Agreement

Hehe

This is a photograph of my twin sister, Jayleigh, at age 10. Ain't she adorable! (She was way into the China Doll look long before Alyssa Milano).

Rule Number 1: I am unique; I am enough.

I just did the hardest thing I've done all year. No, even leaving my ex wasn't this hard. It was telling Mister Wonderful that I need space. This paradox is maddening because there is nothing on Earth that I want more than to be with him. But the more I want to be with him the less attractive my presence is to him.

All week, I've been on the verge of picking a fight, saying "go to hell" and steeping in my misery. But for the first time, I feel like that might be childish, and that this relationship is actually meaningful and important enough for me to get my $hi7 together and act like a well-adjusted adult (for a change).

You'd think that I would have myself together and feel like I was enough... but in truth I am a crying little baby inside. Afraid to do what I want to, and afraid that my staying here and doing nothing will "waste" a chance to have it all.... My strongest impulse is to take M.W. by the lapels and scream "DO YOU REALIZE WHAT WE HAVE? WHY ARE YOU WASTING TIME!" But alas, I cannot. Anyways, if I did, he say either "I don't know" or "let's wait and see"...

This is all my fault
Do not make the mistake and think that there is something wrong with him. This is not his problem; it's mine. Honestly, I feel like my future is so close and I can practically taste it. But the more I reach for it, the more it backs away. I hate being teased and this is the worst kind of torture one can imagine.

So, I said that I need space. But what does space mean? It means that I'm done reaching. Actually I'm sitting here at work trying not to cry. It sucks. But even though I have some free time and normally call M.W... and even if he wanted to hear from me... I would not call.

Destroyed by Desire
While I won't prevent him from calling me and in fact, welcome it... I would rather chop off my hand and slowly bleed to death than hear him hesitate when I ask about the future. So when he is ready, he will come back.

Ironically, he was the one who convinced me so many months ago, that we could actually work., that we would make the best partners, the best family together. Now I'm ready and he's not.

Cruel fate.

Faith First
I have faith that if I calm down, get my life back together, things might just work out. But I'm going to kill myself by guess how to make him happy, unless I focus on me and quit worrying about us.

I do for love... what I would not do.

We've all been there: my friend "Fish" bought a men's Nautica (TM) jacket just like this boy's who she liked. My sister ate military MRE's because her man was in the marine reserves at the time. And now me... I'm listening to "music" from the 1960's because that is what my sweetheart likes to listen to.

Anyone who's ever been in love knows what I am talking about: you do something completely whacko and out of the ordinary, just because your sweetie does it, and you want to enjoy it with them. Don't believe me? Check out Moonbubble, the Skeith. My sweetie adopted Moonie several month ago, because of my Jerry and my Poopsie. And I'm immersing myself in something that is totally not my first choice of tunes... simply because I desire to draw nearer to him both in our intellectual ponderings, and our casual interests.

Let me just add that it was wonderful...

My weekend, of course! Thanks for asking....

Mister Wonderful is wonderful in deed and in fact. Big, huge lazy grin.

Is there an end to the Madness?

Some weeks ago, Yahoo News did a story on these little plastic toys that made their way into bags of candy being sold in the U.S. Apparently the toys depicted cartoon-like rendition of the 11 September 2001 attacks on the World Trade Center. This morning, I was surfing the net, looking for a great little radio/mp3 player with a loud speaker, which was going to be on my Christmas Wish List. Instead, I found the most gruesome of gruesome array of souvenirs, that are actually entitled "Buildings of Disaster". Examples include (but are not limited to) the 911 attacks, the Texas School Book Depository, Chernobyl, and the O.J. Simpson car chase!

Clearly, the authors of the site are touting it differently. The creators are from a U.S. firm This is their note:

Souvenirs are important cultural objects which can store and communicate memories, emotions and desires. Buildings of Disaster are miniature replicas of famous structures where some tragic or terrible events happened to take place. The images of burning or exploded buildings make a different, populist history of architecture, one based on emotional involvement rather than scholarly appreciation. In a media-saturated time, world disasters stand as people's measure of history, and the sites of tragic events often become involuntary tourists destinations.

But really.... where does the madness end? Over the weekend, I was studying and watching television with my sweetie. He ran out to forage for our dinner, and I watched an advertisement for an insanely violent video game. Now, I gotta tell you, Mister Wonderful is the first one to say that people who play violent video games don't necessarily become violent... but he also says that senseless violence in video games impacts into reality from being a virtual distraction.

I saw this horrific game called Shellshocked: 'Nam '67. My sweetie was in Vietnam in 1969. In so many ways, I do not understand the horror that he and countless others endured while there. Back in March, we toured the California state Vietnam Memorial together. Seeing him become emotional really brought the senselessness of it all into the front of my mind. The creators are touting the game as a historical simulation of sorts... But I would fight to protect Mister Wonderful from ever having to go thru any of that again.

Can you believe this guy???

A follow up to Losing Faith... again.

So I went off about this former minister who was gay-bashing while "preaching" earlier this month. If you don't click above and go to the article, please at least read this much, right at the end:

"While Swaggart may attack same-sex marriage, his own heterosexual marriage has
faced major obstacles. In 1988 he resigned from his ministry after a sex scandal
involving a prostitute. A few years later California police stopped his car and
found he was driving with a suspected prostitute." from the above linked site.

Do I need to elaborate? The man is a "John" and we are letting him preach the word of God? The article above tells us that he stepped down from the ministry. Prithee, tell me why in the name of all that is holy and righteous, is the man preaching if he stepped down?

Let's draw a parallel:
Ever heard of Rasputin? Okay, I'll give it to you straight: he was a hedonist, a hethen, an individual that believed (and preached... read folks... he was a Monk) that to attain salvation, one must commit terrible sin and then seek forgiveness for it. The greater the sin, the higher the forgiveness.

The only reason he still has power...
Is the same reason we still respect the "reverend" Jesse Jackson (who also had a number of extramarital affairs, one resulting in a child). If we stood up more often for what we believed in, then politicians would get the idea that we are not stupid and lazy and therefore they can do anything they want to because we will not challenge them. If we stood up and let these "preachers" know that it is NOT okay to be a blatant hypocrite ... who knows? Maybe there would be better role models for our children? (or in my case, my babies "gonna-be").

I'm just shaking my head in disgust. First at this alleged preacher-man who is absolutely the lowest of the low. And second, at myself and my fellow man, for not objecting to the behavior of other objectionable people. C'mon... STANDARDS, people!

The Midnight Perl Dance

Have I mentioned that I hate computer programming? Because I hate it. The logic? (Doing my bestest Mr. Spock impression) Illogical.

Human beings were meant to be fluid. Heck, we're like 90% water, aren't we? (Only not Norman water, as we have the nastiest lake-derived, chemically altered H2-Oh-my-goodness! What's that floating in my WATER?! in the entire state).

Rivers of emotions run high and low. Our eyes cry tears made of water. And salt. And isn't salt the spice of life? Or is that love? Who knows. All I'm trying to say, is that when I can write a computer program like wallowing in a deep depression (thanks to Ms. Manson and Garbage for the lyric inspiration) then I'll be happy.

Currently (check out the song by the same title, by Keaton Simons) I am attempting to wow myself and others with my programming prowess. I am not prowly or essy. Not at all. It suck-eth. Keep me in your prayers and dreams.

Losing Faith...again.

Well folks, I've about had it up to the top of my 5'9-3/4" head! See, there is this schism between people who think that Gays have the right to marry, and those who say they'd "Kill" a gay man "if he looked at me like that!"

First, one must address the obvious: do Gays have the right to marry? Should they? If I remember correctly, there was a time in the not-so-distant past when African-American's did not have the right to marry. Then they could marry, but only each other. I think it was something like the 1940's or 50's when interracial marriages were legal in the U.S.

But do they have the right to marry? Think about it this way: a hetero couple decides to have a child, but they do not marry. Aren't all of the right-wing religious zealots all over them to get married and for the guy to "make an honest woman" out of her? So translate that to a lesbian couple. They have babies. And we are totally preventing them from legally providing the safety of a marriage to the children.

Quite frankly I think that the uber-conservatives like the individual in the aforementioned article, are homophobes and nothing more. They seem to have some misinformed sense that every gay person on the planet is out for one thing and one thing only -- and it ain't Pete Jenning's toupee'. Seriously, that's like saying that all hetero people have the alleged moral turpitude of Brittany Spears.

I have gay friends. Some of them live the most normal, moral lives. They do not go out and have anonymous relationships any more than the girls I worked with at the local Micky-D's in college did. And let me tell you, this one girl Missy... My mom's uncle waived a $50 in her face as she walked into my sister's wedding reception and yelled "Fiddy Dollar make you hollah..." She was dressed like a whore, and had an orange foundation line across her cheek. Gauche.

Anyways, back to my point: not allowing Gays to marry is akin to encouraging promiscuity. They would not marry lightly in the same vein that you or I would not marry lightly. Isn't abusing marriage for the sake of a green card or for the sake of ... what... a tax break or... health benefits? Pshaw!

If someone wants to get married... I say let 'em. I've seen too many people -- gays, and heteros alike, get shafted after being in a long-term committed relationship. What do I mean by that? Just that marriage also offers protection and validation to someone if something goes horribly wrong and their children are at risk of being possessed by the state, the partner that worked so hard along side the other one, would not be allowed to inherit the estate of the other one, and a whole litnany of reasnos. Heteros have commonlaw marriages. Why not at the very least, consider that?

Why the soap-box today? Because of the article cited in the first paragraph. It's a shame that I used to respect that man when I was a kid. He's no better than you or I and he certainly should not be professing to speak the gosple out of one side of his mouth while gay bashing out of the other.

For what it's worth...

An open letter to Mister Wonderful's ex:
How was I to know your daughter would inadvertantly send me a copy of what was probably the last photo taken of you and M.W.? It's not that it shocked me, just that it was unexpected, it took my breat away. I felt that way the first time I saw a picture of you two, back in March this year. There are some things I need to get off my chest, and you are the only appropriate person to say them to.

While I failed to mention in March how pretty I thought you were [when you were younger], I thought it. Even in the latest photo, I thought you looked amazing. You and my M.W. looked like an engaging couple; you fit well. Like peas and carrots. And if I did not know the truth about your marriage when that photo was taken, then I would have never in a million years, believed that you guys' divorce was almost final.

But the truth, Ms. Wrong, is that while your winning smile was out fooling the world, your husband and family would have benefitted from you being there and being real instead of faking it and being cold. In the nearly two years since I first met M.W. in the professional realm, then after you kicked him out of the house and I got to know him on a more personal note... he really tried to make things work out with you. Instead of getting the fact that you had a hand in your life being fucked-up, you refused to admit the truth, and constantly punishing him for it.

For our many sins, we pay the price...
Part of what bugs me about you, is that I have not yet had an opportunity to size you up, stare you down, and make you feel completely inferior as a human being. Many people ask what is the reasoning behind that... basically it is animal instinct. The "j" word almost popped out, but it is not that -- You and M.W. have things together that one can only have after decades of marriage: kids in their mid-late 20's. I will not have that in the here and now, so to level the playing field, all I can do is love M.W. the best I know how, and maybe in that black, stony, coal-lump-of-a-heart, you'll see that you were doing it all wrong... all selfish... and that he would have loved you still, if you had ever tried.

So you're asking what is the price of my envy? Just that you could easily play the "other woman" card on me, and say I took him from you. What you do not, and will not know, is that I have always, catagorically refused to play the "other woman". This case is not that case. And yet I still have this lingering guilt because I would never chat with you on the phone when M.W. and I were business acquaintences and not soul mates. You intimidate the hell out of me and no matter how great I can fake the self-confidence, I will know that deep down, there must be something redeeming inside of you, or else M.W. would never have given you the time of day.

Not to diminish M.W.
You crapped on a wonderful husband, and a wonderful life, Ms. Wrong. Pardon me while I gather the pieces and build my future.

And by the way, M.W.... I forgot how much I *loved* the goatee. Tres chic!

Midnight blues...

No, I realize it's not midnight. It's the "I'm working midnights and I'm the only one who cares about me and there few glimmers of hope that the future will be different" blues. It's actually shortly after noon, and the 2nd midnight shift. Can't sleep normal, can't eat normal, and all I do is feel like a terrible failure about my whole entire life.

No... it shouldn't be normal to cry like this always. My sister Jayleigh and I have been at odds. Because she did not accept my divorce until the day it was final, it seems that she feels I need some "alone time" to be with myself and "settle down" before I get involved again.

When one is not in a bad marriage, they haven't a concept of how "dead" the marriage is. Although there is pain, you just want to move forward and find happiness and goodness in your life. I found that someone pretty soon after I separated. But it was someone I knew well, someone I trusted to respect my need for time and space and healing (and chocolate). Jay hurts because she did not cry the tears with me daily.

So it seems too soon to her. Sorry Jay-bumblebee :'( My heart really hurts over what I went thru.

20 years difference.
Mister Wonderful went thru a bad marriage too... but it lasted 20 years longer than mine. The end of his was more like a terminal illness, where the end of mine is more like a train-wreck. His quietly slipped into oblivion and he has a wonderful family to show for the thirty years of his life, growth, personal, professional, and spiritual developement that he invested.

What do I have to show? 10 years of fighting, having my things destroyed in the heat of an argument, living with his depression, feeling inadequate because of his emotional and physical intimacy issues, being shamed in front of his family, feeling bad about myself when I sought out positive attention from others, a brand-spankin'-new computer, 2 graduate level classes, and.. what? A dog that I can't see? Frankly I just don't see that my marriage accomplished anything, other than to seriously tame my wild spirit. Jealousy that Mister Wonderful has something to show for his hard time, and Dorothy just crys and rants about the fact that there is nothing good that came from being married to someone who she sacrificed everything, heart, mind, soul, to try to appease.

You know what? That bastard, in 10 years, bought me flowers exactly twice. I'm going to go out right now, to the florist, and buy myself something pretty with money I made. If it takes me five years, I will find something good that came from it. Even if the only thing that my marriage did was to keep me childless and out of trouble until I really met Mister Wunderbar.

Free and Lonely...

No one said it would be easy to live the kind of life that doesn't wake you up at night. Everyone has their own crosses to bear and we all have choices to make in life. Hurting is part of life, and all too often, we forget that we're in the same boat as everyone else on the planet -- so why not be kind, courteous, and let's all get along?

There is an artist I discovered this evening called Laura Dawn, whose song Free and Lonely Life is quite moving. The lyrics of the song (which I cannot locate online) tell about a woman who has chosen a path that is different from most of the people she knows. Not many people understand that she is not the same but she knows it. Still, that does not keep her from feeling her lonliness; "that" she says, "is the price of a free and lonely life"....

~~~

Due to a number of rude comments left on this site by this person, I have (hopefully only temporarily) removed the capability to comment on my blog. This is done with only the greatest regret, as I believe in free speech. However, slanderous remarks and remarks that convey hatred and disrespect toward the person of the author (not the actions, but the person) are not warmed kindly to, whether or not they were made in jest.

Kindly email all comments in the meantime, to wxgddss@yahoo.com

...You give me fever.... mmmm.... FEVER!!!

No more lyrics today... I have been weeping openly whenever there's a baby around. That is exactly what I want. No, not single parenthood -- the whole shootin' match: Wedding, honeymoon, husband, pregnancy, big belly clothes, baby... mine. In that order.

Some people think I have been making poor choices in my life. That angers me. My ex-husband who shall henceforth and forevermore remain nameless, changed to a monster only after we had been married for about a month. While there were warning signs ahead of time... they were nothing compared to what he turned into: a gun-toting, emotionally abusive psychopath.

Bar Nachos and beer...

Okay... not beer. I don't actually drink beer. Not often. Not in Oklahoma, that's for dern sure. But I went with the guys from the office tonight to the Mont. As we sat there under the mist-ers, under the outdoor canopies, under the stars and next to the coy Koi drinking Sooner Swirls.... it occured to me that I liked this semi-monthly tradition. All we ever do is crab about work and who did what to whom at the office. But it is a cathartic tradition none-the-less.

Irregardless of what you may think at this point in time... Idealistically, it's a great night. Just don't drink too much -- last time, it took me two days to recover and everyone knew because I looked like Hell.

Dorothy, Not in Kansas

Walkin' the walk....

I miss my 3.7 mile hike thru the hills and valley, the pastures and the dirt and asphalt roads that I used to take with my dog, Jonah, when I lived on Hogback Ridge. There was something about an early Saturday or Sunday morning, and one helluva hike, that made me really want to go out and tackle that bad-boy! The sun, the dew, the sky, the power plant that was build 4 miles from the house. Watching the smoke-stacks, the direction of the wind, finding the atmospheric inversion. Standing in awe of the awesome physical properties that God gave the world....

Now, my life occurs in the city. Today is the first day that I can recall, that I really miss the cold morning air, the sound of the highway from afar (mainly semi's downshifting to go up the hill), and sneaking out before my ex woke up.

... er... uh... wait a second... I used to sneak out of the house
before my ex woke up... why?

Oh yeah, because living there was miserable and I [subconsciously] did everything in my power to not have to come into contact with him. When that contact was inevitable, I did my best to try and make life pleasant. ... For everyone but me, that is....

Fine, so I soured my imagination of waking up to dew on the grass, in the country. But I miss that, and the walks.... c'est la vie.

Go Away Monster, a Poem by Dorothy

Go away Monster, busy and green.
You create in me something unseen.
Yet quite ugly, and melodramatic --
the way I am feeling towards others? Traumatic.

Shut up, get away, stand back, tally ho!
Here's your coat, here's your hat;
TAKE YOUR UMBRELLA AND GO!

Because I've had enough of your mental beating.
And I've had enough of my thoughts receeding
into the depths of what can go wrong, and what I am missing
and what is broken and how the cat's hissing.

Right now, is the time for me.
A time for Joie
A time for Jo-ey!

So leave me alone ugly monster.
I have found my voice.
If you don't like the door I am showing you
how 'bout another choice?

A little bag of doggy poo, on fire,
Flaming for you.

Like the Deserts Miss the Rain (lyrics in part)

Oh, the best midnight snack? Wunderbreat toast, with peanut budder and strawl-barry jamb. You may wonder why the mis-spellings, given my penchant for grammar and correctness? Um, on account-a-because it's 4 a.m. and hate waking up and my brain is flying. The toast thing is totally something my gramma cole used to do. Not for midnight snacks, but for mid-morning snackz.

Sidebar: Gramma Cole's house was a myriad of scents and tastes. Cold coffee, cigarette smoke, Palm Olive dish washing liquid, yucky bathroom smell after someone used it, and pledge dusting polish.

Almost a tie between Anne Murray's Another Sleepless Night... but I'm getting ready to go back to bed, and plus, I'm not sleepless because of the reason Ms. Murray sites in her song; I'm lonely. Therefore you guys get the sad and lonely version tonight.

It has a great beat, you can dance to it like the Roxbury Boys and furthermore, you can croon it when you miss your loved one.

by Everything but the Girl

I step off the train
I'm walking down your street again
and past your door
But you don't live there any more

It's years since you've been there
But now you've disappeared somewhere
like outer space
You've found some better place

And I miss you -
like the deserts miss the rain
And I miss you -
like the deserts miss the rain

Could you be dead?
You always were two steps ahead
of everyone
We'd walk behind while you would run

I look up at your house
And I can almost hear you shout
down to me
Where I always used to be

And I miss you -
like the deserts miss the rain
And I miss you -
like the deserts miss the rain

Let's talk about trust...

It seems to me that when you put your heart in someone else's hands, there needs to be a modicum of trust between the two of you. But trust is not something steady -- it follows the ebb and flow of happy and sad times in your life; it rises and falls, grows and receeds, as does the way that life itself wishes and washes and wears away with time.

There seems to be a bit of the flow, the fall, the low-tide in my world recently. Not that things are specifically bad... but we miss eachother. With that missing comes doubting that things will be okay in either the Land of OK or the Land of CA.

Missing U..

(I Ain't) Missing You

by John Waite

Every time I think of you,
I always catch my breath
And I'm still standing here,
and you're miles away
And I'm wonderin' why you left
And there's a storm that's raging
through my frozen heart tonight

I hear your name in certain circles,
and it always makes me smile
I spend my time thinkin' about you,
and it's almost driving me wild
And there's a heart that's breaking
down this long distance line tonight

I ain't missing you at all
since you've been gone away
I ain't missing you,
no matter what I might say

There's a message in the wire,
and I'm sending you this signal tonight
You don't know how desperate I've become
And it looks like I'm losing this fight
In your world I have no meaning,
though I'm trying hard to understand
And it's my heart that's breaking
down this long distance line tonight

I ain't missing you at all
Since you've been gone away
I ain't missing you,
No matter what my friends say
And there's a message that I'm sending out,
Like a telegraph to your soul
And if I can't bridge this distance,
Stop this heartbreak Overload

I ain't missing you,
I ain't missing you,
I can lie to Myself

Baby Fever

I have it and freely admit it. At night, instead of dreaming of torrid affairs and sexual experiences with my lover.... the dreams are filled with sheltering a little one from a hail storm, or snuggling in to watch a cartoon, eat a snack, read a book in bed. Nestling my nose into her freshly washed and dried little red curls and trying not to weep out loud because I love her more than I ever thought I could.

Oh, to wash the little feet and change diapers and feed a tiny helpless soul. To nourish and clothe and sustain the life of one that came from me. It's overwhelming and I never thought I'd feel this way. I want this so much it actually hurts.

So I've changed my priorities in life from finding the cutest, most successful husband on the block, to finding a stable, fun, interesting, intelligent, ethical, moral, Godly man who wants to make and raise little babies as my partner.


Cave-woman Weather Forecaster say...
Me hate busy day.

Alright Folks... agree? It sucks, sometimes, to be a responsible adult.

Seriously. Today I have to work for 10 hours, study for an upcoming exam for 3 hours, and kill a stray mouse that woke me up from a sound sleep last night. I want to call up Mr. Wonderful and chat for an hour, then take a nap. I have to pay my bills. I want to go to the mall and buy something cute or sultry to wear the next time he is in town from California. I have to be responsible. I want to party.

I wrote a blog about it, but apparently forgot to save it, as it's not been posted. Not all is lost, however... I do recall telling my boyfriend that I am cured from eating in in my room(on principle, he hates people who eat in bed) because I watched a little mousie (about 4 inches too long for my taste) tow away a little Kraft Single's Wrapper from my midnight snack last night at about 0100.

Mice are the grossest thing that exist in common domesticated households. Besides rotting produce, that is. That little rat-b@$7@rd was peaking at me, taunting, and otherwise rabel-rousing in my presence. He knew that I knew that he knew I was watching him watch me! The nerve!

Top 10 Retorts to my ex's latest comment.

First, we must examine the comment: "I bet you're getting hit on more than me. Well, at least I had a good piece of ass for 11 years." I told a friend that being raped was easier than dealing with that shit-ass remark. That was not entirely true, although the remark completely demoralized me when I read it. I'm not exactly mad, disappointed or whatever.... but I have, after the fact, come up with a number of cruel responses.

10. Wait... are you actually insinuating that you wanted me?
9. I wasn't good because of you.... it was in spite of you.
8. Geez, I had enough free time alone.. it's reasonable to assume that I did some interesting reading.
7. So when you screamed in my face, threatened me, and generally made me hate my life... you were trying to say .. what..? That you were glad I was there? Oh I see.
6.

This is stupid. And I don't have enough time to really sort it out and be clever about it.

Learning to Live... again.

Some would say that I am already alive... however that is taking the most obvious form of the term "alive". My mom says that she wants me to be the girl full of spark and life, that I used to be. Um... I am still a girl.. so what's the problem?

There is this song. Either by the Verve or the Verve Pipe. It was called "Freshmen".. oh darn. Let me check.... Okay.. it's the Verve Pipe

Their lyrics have always cut me to the quick, and the agonizing sound of his voice wrought emotion where there was none. Especially the chorus:

For the life of me
I can not remember
What made us think that we were wise
and we'd never compromise
For the life of me
I can not believe
we'd ever die
For these sins
We were merely freshmen

A pretty apt summary of my freshman year in college, the year I met my ex.

Again, I'm tired of writing about him. Let's play backgammon instead.

..... just like riding a bike, right?

Learning to trust again, that is. I mean, the more someone controls you in a relationship, the less you trust everyone in general... Especially in failed marital relationships, you get to this point when you do not trust your ex and you are so afraid of being stepped on that you do not trust anyone else, either. But there comes a time when you desperately want to do just that... and it should be easy.... just like riding a bike.

But it's not that easy. I have to take care of myself, my school, my job.... and my heart. Part of taking care of my heart is to communicate as openly as possible with Mister Wonderful... without threatening or otherwise hurting his heart in the process. I'm stuck today, because my gut reaction induced a reaction in him that was the opposite of what I wanted. Essentially, it was either me stuff my feelings down and not try to worry about it, or else confront my feelings with him and then cause him either concern, heartache or just some ambiguous yuckiness.

I wish I'd kept my feelings to myself.

What impresses me about this guy, though, is that there was no shouting. Just a few words from each of us, then trying to understand what the other one meant. I'm ceratin we had a little misunderstanding, and once we realized that we were both on the same side, everything will be good again.

Chocolate anyone? No better emotional anesthetic in the world. LOL.

jmhngb

Insomniatic thoughts...

School begins tomorrow. Well, make that today. At the ripe age of "looks like 25, but is closer to 35", Ms. Thaing is going to drag her derrier into a classroom tomorrow afternoon. A class which, by the by, she did not do well in whilst in college the last time. Grad school. Feelings? Wow, I like me. I like where I am, what I'm doing and who I'm with.

That's not to say I wish that California wasn't here with me. But my friends are a generally good crew, and they are not too demanding. Dontcha just hate those couples that are always hanging out with other couples... like, nonstop. Like... you get the one, you get that other one...? Or couples who exist solely at the whim of their mate? They try to make the rest of us feel badly because we don't have that... but you know once I had that and it wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

Very few of the people who present in that manner are actually what they seem, instead of stifled, controlling, or just plain angry at the world. Like people who share an email address. Okay, okay, I have to be truthful: for my very first email address, I shared one with my ex. But that was in the mid-late 90's when ISPs gave out only 1 email addy with each paid account.

Virtually all ISPs are now either Yahoo or AOL now, and hence give 8-12 free email addys along with the paid account. My evil twin and her spouse share an address, as do my lovely folks who've been married longer than half of their lives. The addys read something like: jennabrad@wearelunatics.com or tommyanna@luvanudeist.org. Not that those are their addresses, mind you, just a simple example. That notwithstanding, it's unheard of in the professional realm, for one not to have one's own email address. And yet we still see things like our female boss sending out jokes from her husband's account jimmyjoe@dumptruckdriver.net . So every time we open up our email, we have to think: Who's JimmyJoe again? Oh yeah... that's Susan's husband... and she controls every other facet of his life, why not send email on his behalf as well?? Either that, or else she's such a luddite in the computer world that she doesn't know that Hotmail is free!

Addicted to Long John Silverfish (tm)
I should write a song ala Robert Palmer. I could get Shania Twain to dance backup for me (merci beaucoup). Damn, that fish is good! It's worth a casual mention that the more I exercise, the more seafood I crave. Plus, their batter is really salty and I have low blood pressure and am a salt fiend. If you're lookin' for advice, take it from me -- eat not anything at the Silverfish other than the fish, get it?

Dating Rules for Dummies...
Recall the controversy of The Rules back in the mid-90s? My former landlady suggested that now that I'm out in the dating world again, that I read them. I see a lot of places where I went wrong in the past. I even noticed that when I follow the rules with California Wonderful, I feel a lot better about our relationship. Funny thing though: he can't notice any difference on my part, but casually mentioned that he didn't like the way The Rules made him feel manipulated.

The point, for all you single boys who might be interested, is that Rules for Dating is more of a guidline for the woman to behave in a manner that gives her confidence about herself, and most especially about her relationships. If she can act like less of a crazy around you boys, won't that turn you on to her a little more? How about if she can feel secure without you contantly having to remind her? Yeah, that's what I thought: you'd jump at the chance. So, if your girl is reading the Rules.. give her a chance and she'll settle down and be a lot more confident from now, into the future.

Some walk by night... Some fly by day...

A treatise on being in love with Dave... and wanting to be Maddie

There were those special times when I was in 8th grade -- the spring, when my evil twin and I went to Washington D.C. with the school, for our field trip. Holding hands with the Billy -- make that pinkey fingers -- but never kissing, never even dating.

And then there was the night when my folks were away and me and my evil twin watched a forbidden television show, fell in love with our new t.v. boyfriend Bruce Willis... and immediately needed matching purse and pumps, just like the lovely Maddie Hayes. Hell, we wanted to be named Maddie Hayes. We wanted big curly hair, a sharp tongue, and sexy lingerie. We wanted a big house, to learn how to drink champagne, and sing caberet' in black and white. Oh, and live in a crappy apartment in the big city where some ambiguous guy ushers in the darkness with the tune of an alto sax, and we were sitting out on the fire excape, torn between the guy we know was Mister Right, and the sexy bum who stole our hearts at breakfast, on the street this morning...

Those were the days. Ones when the air was moist and cool and sweet, and the spring lasted forever. In fact, we read several books to each other that spring. One of them was the Great Gatsby. Another was called the Ordinary Princess. I decided that I was misplaced in time and for the remainder of my pre-college career, I lived and strived for knowledge about Chicago Gangsters, Flappers, I even cut my hair short... I turned Prom into a Flapper Costume and everyone thought I was insane.

But I always wanted to be Maddie Hayes, and have sharp wit and a sexy body, and then fall in love with a man and have his babies.

Decompressing, stressing, and a move...

My trip to the Diary Capital was nice -- generally in the good food, good friends sense... but specifically in the "I'm a lucky girl to have friends, family, and loved ones always thinking about me. Previously I mentioned that M. Wunderbar proclaimed radio silence on my trip. His heart broke over and over... and in turn, mine broke for him, for us, for me....

How could I be so completely selfish? Actually, when you're not thinking, it's rather a breeze. The only thing I considered when I planned my trip... was that there was no Mister Dorothy to tell me no... Not at all that there is someone at home for whom I have deep feelings and a deep respect, who could be hurt by the apparent appearance of my weekend trip.

The point in the end, was that keeping peace and trust in my relationships is of the utmost importance... and I jeopardized that big-time.

~~~

School starts next week and I just spent two long days lugging furniture out of my old apartment and into my new house. There were points when I was sad, because my old apartment was the first place that was ever all mine. No one helped me move in, no one paid the rent for me, and it was very nice to feel independent.

Exhaustion is taking me over, and I think I need to spend a while watching Cary Grant this afternoon. Sigh. My movie boyfriend.

~~~

My vacation to Madison ended with a drive to Chicago to see my sister, her husband, and my folks. Mister Wonderful sent a basket of snacks and Cokes to our hotel, and we sat around talking and laughing and eating chocolate until we were mean. It was exceedingly generous, thoughtful, and kind. Just like he, himself.

One of the reasons M.W. was so jealous of my trip, was that time was being taken from him and spent with someone he did not know, did not trust, and felt totally helpless to keep me safe from. I love that he spends time, effort, and energy on me like that. After talking extensively, I feel that we have some peace.... but I also now know the acceptable limits of contact with members of the opposite sex.

Live and Learn.

At first it really upset me that M.W. felt the way he did. Then it occured to me that I would be that angry if the situation were reversed. In fact, it could be a deal-breaker if the sitch were reversed. Look at his history. And look at mine. We don't have any reason to trust eachother... but we do because there is honesty, forthrightness, and a real want and need to have changed from the uncomfortable and untrusting past lives of which we were both a part, previously.

My mom asked if I am bringing him home for Christmas. I would like to, yes. He would like to, too. In fact, he asked yesterday if it would be premature to make a proposal... A what???? A... ahem... a proposal?

Wait and see.

Trippin'...

Mister Wonderful is not pleased at my plans to spend the weekend in the nation's dairy capital... There is a "history" with my host... Not real, but imagined on my part... Imagined, I might add, at a time in my life that the only things I had were my imagination and a healthy amount of time spent emailing the free world and ignoring domestic problems.

The point is that somewhere along the line, I had developed misplaced feelings for this individual; I was over them by the time Mister Wonderful and I were an item... but unfortunately I told Mister Wonderful all about my feelings for this person before he and I were an item. Misplaced feelings, you say? Yes, I reply... misplaced in the sense that you are looking for a way out of an incredibly terrible situation in your life, and look to someone who treats you with kindness.... look to someone who you respect.... to someone who believes your pain.

So Mr. Wunderbar is breaking my heart by not allowing me to communicate with him until I get back home. That is a bit of a misnomer: he asked me not to call, but said he would not refuse a call. Text messaging is okay though. Truly I am confused because I do not understand what, other than punishment, this radio silence is accomplishing.

Road Trip....

While examining the motivations for my current road trip, starting tonight at 7:30 PM, I have come up with the following:

It's not about where I'm going, as much as it is, that I want to go.
It's not about who I'm seeing but who I am.
and especially...
I will get to combine my trip so I can see people I love, too -- My family!!!

Some things have surfaced recently that really give me pause about taking this trip. First, that my divorce is final and I am single again. That adds volitility to my emotional life. I understand that. But I still know me. And I am firm in my beliefs, my place in life, and my loves.

Next, it should be noted here that I've always been restless. Too much time in one place makes me go crazy, as does too much time with the same people. I love my family... but I can't take my vacations to the same places every time I have time off. ** One time I was coming home from school (90 miles from home) and ended up 50 miles in the opposite direction of home before I decided to not just take off for good. If I'd had somewhere to go, then that would've been the last of me in that small town.

Anyways, the point is that I am being totally selfish here and doing something for me. I'm not sorry for going, and I'm not sorry for relaxing and having fun. I am sorry that my sweety has angst. And I'm going to miss my sweetheart who is probably hurting because of my choice. But I wish he could come with me and wish that we could talk about it in a way that he would understand.

**My mom actually told me this, but please note: this does not apply to California... I love California.

Drink the Draino, you loser!!!

Seriously....

Okay, that wasn't very nice to say... but I continually fail to understand how someone can be such a shit about telling me how to do my job. Then picky-fighting about insignificant details.

People... get a freaking grip. Yes, that means me, too.

Centro de Adoracio'n: Palabra de Fe

The sign on the front of the building facing my office reads the above. I do not speak any foreign languages, therefore it is only the music and nightly suppers and scads of passionate-acting Hispanics that makes me know it is a Church. Indeed on All Hallow's Eve, or the Day of the Dead, there was a night-long celebration. They really know how to whoop it up: Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, Christmas, New Year's Eve, New Year's Day.... Which is sad for me because I know all of this -- I was working on each of those days last year.

But the language barrier got me to thinking about communications, and not having the ability to communicate. A woman in the Spa at the YMCA the other night had on the cutest swim suit. I complimented it, but she did not speak English. My mind, however, reeled when she got in the spa and said "caliente" to the babies who were with her. Babies? Yes, but she was older... I wanted to at least say "hi, what's up?" to this woman. I kept looking over and smiling. Then it hit me.... I smiled at her and pointed at the kids and said "Abuela?" She grinned. I loved it.

Therefore I feel burdened to learn a foreign language so's that I can know what it means when the sign on the church across the street says "Center of Adoration: Word of Faith"

Would it be called the beginning of the very end... or the very end of the beginning we had and then squandered?

My heart is tight in my chest this morning. I've been dreaming all night long about Persephone living half of her year in Hades (seriously... just finished reading Sappho's Leap). It was weird, because a) I was only asleep for 4 or 5 hours and b) I didn't have to stay there in the underworld for the entire year... just in the winter. * It wasn't scary, either....

So today is half of the rest of this divorce business... the settlement part. I am remembering all of the reasons I wanted a divorce in the first place: my s.t.b.x's weird hygene habits, his bad financial habits, his controlling nature (we talked nearly a dozen times yesterday). The first time we talked yesterday, he asked me out to dinner. Not just any place... but a fancy Cajun place that I always wanted to try. He never took me to nicer places. Sure, I went to nice places with friends... but never with him.

But I did not go last night. Why would I? To tempt fate? Perhaps I really am as stupid as I look? No, the reason I did not go, is because I am still afraid on one level... on another... I really didn't care to weep thru a several-course meal.

Yeah... he still makes me weep uncontrollably when I see him. More like tears streaming out of my eyes... lump in my throat. Business is not that difficult to do. Letting the dreams die is the hard part.

Any girl stupid enough to get married at the tendre age of 20 had those dreams:
Finish putting eachother thru college, then get good jobs, move away from Home, buy a house,  have babies, be successful, go back to school for an advanced degree, make cookies for little Z's first-grade class, be overwhelmed on your 10th anniversary when your spouse gives you a gargantuan set of diamond earrings, and then presents you with a fabulous vacation he'd been saving for... for years! A second honeymoon... someplace tropical... you learn to scuba dive. He makes you a necklace out of shells. You fall in love over again. You conceive little O on the vacation, and then your life is perfect.

But that is not the way things worked out. Sure, my body was a fault for not bearing the babies... but by our 10th anniversary, he went crazy and I moved out because I was bone-weary of him. And no longer in love. I've spoken before about the way he systematically killed our love. For those in the know, I'm super-passionate... It's damn near impossible to get me to give up on something I believe in... something like 10-years impossible.

That damn song is in my head again. Not because I believe it's true.... probably my conscience playing games on me... making me feel the regret. And I do regret lots of things. Like, that he didn't love me enough to get himself help before we were married (yes folks, supid girl married a guy she knew had issues... the dummy thought she could fix him!)... like that I still trusted him, because he would pat my head and tell me thing would be okay... even after he scared me to death by threatening himself with knives or guns (no, the time I had him taken to the mental hospital was not the first time that happened).

Improvement comes in small doses...
Often when I used to get in this mode of thinking and writing and crying... I would just sit here for hours and bitch and moan about "how he done me wrong"... But... instead of saying "I'm really unhappy".... I just said "I'm really unhappy right now"....

Life is good. The getting on part is, anyways. From here on out, my job is to remind myself that I left no stone unturned... and anything else I would have done to get back together... could've gotten me killed. There has to be peace of mind somewhere. I can find it.

 

 

 

*For those who don't recall their Greek Mythology offhand, Demeter was the goddess of the weather or the seasons or something... and had a daughter with Zeus, who promised the girl to Hades, the god of the underworld, as his bride. Persephone, the girl went to stay with Hades for half of the year. Demeter was sorrowful and made that half of the year cold, and all plantlife turned brown and died. In the spring, upon Persephone's return to her mother... the weather turned warm once more and things came alive and trees bore fruit and the like. There is a part of the story that is quite "Eve-like", with a pomegranet fruit, and you can find the correct and entire thing here.

Oh oh oh oh oh!

Yeee-haaaaaa! I'm going to school again... to school again... to school again... I'm going to school again to study Industrial Engineering!

30 days from today :)

I got you... under my skin....

La da de... la da da... hmm hmmm hmmmmmmmm...

T - minus - 12 days and counting. It's the Un-marriage-o-meter! Supposed to be T - minus - 5 days... but something went screwy with his house refinance, and I can't finalize the divorce until he signs off, giving me my caish (damn-it-all... say it like I spelled it, Redneck!).

So get this: Mr. Right (right now, for certain) is coming out here from California (over 1500 miles), just to help me move into my new duplex. D-day occurs while he is here. My mother thinks I did it on purpose; I can assure you that I did not.

But since the s.t.b.x has signed the waiver for the divorce, and the only one who can un-do it now, is me... I'm going to pick up Mr. Right from the airport, looking like only the long-lost girlfriend has a right to look... like if my ex ever saw me looking like that, it was only inside the house... as though I were out to make every girl in the airport feel utter jealousy and hatred of my fair complected, coppery-blonde-ness.

Disappointing...
Met with the upper mgt. yesterday to ask for funding to attend grad school. Bon Jovi is ringing in my head "Shot Down... in a blaze of Glory."

 

Right or Wrong....

I filed today. With the county clerk's office. Everything will be final on July 26th. The song rolling thru my mind when I was signing everything? 
 

Right Or Wrong by George Strait
 
Right or wrong I'll always love you
Though your're gone I can't forget
Right or wrong I'll keep on dreaming
Still I wake with the same old regret
All along I knew I'd lose you
Though I prayed that you'd be true
In your heart please just remember
Right or wrong, I'm still in love with you.  

Belonging...

So many times I wished there was something to belong to. Groups of people, ideals, morals... etc. When you feel on the outside... it's a lonely place. Recently I realized that part of that is my unwillingness to actually committ to anything.

Just got done chatting with the daugter of the man I'm dating. She's only 7 years younger than me, but a real sweetheart. We talked about her recent breakup and the break up of her folks that led to their divorce... and the breakup of my marriage that has led to my divorce. We talked about dating, dating after the breakups, dating too soon, being indiscreet, and about the fact that she was just as glad as I am, that I don't live in the same town; if I lived close, it would be near to impossilble to hold myself up to the kinds of morals which are important to me.

She really was relieved when I said that. Apparently there's a double-standard that lots of people hold, regarding people having relationships after a divorce. I held that myself, until I realized that I was just living by someone else's rules and not my own. When I stopped living by someone else's rules... my life because infinitely more satisfying and happy.

Caution: religious opinions contained below.

In church last week, we had a special guest, David Edwards. He spoke regarding the message of his book called Lit. I suggest it to everyone who struggles with the meaning of their religion.

Only my mom knows the extent to which I lost my religion some years back. I refused to go to church or participate in anything because I did not like people who were liars about who they were at church versus who they were in life. Consistency, people!

Anyways, the point is that God's grace in my life is something that never occured to me until this very low point in my life. My attitude is reversed 100% and I could not be happier regarding the direction that my mind is moving now. Sigh. How luck could this girl be?

Luck has nothing to do with it. It's all from God.

Thanks for the blessings.

"Making your way" sounds easier than it is...

And it is. Seems I've gotten really good at going where no divorced 31-year-old female scientist has gone before. Doing my own divorce, negotiating with the ex, filling out the paperwork. Deciding that what my company lacked, was an entirely new angle of dealing with the client/ops liason, and deciding to go back to school in order to learn how to tackle that issue.. complete with helping the company to understand that this is what they really need.

My mom once asked why I make things hard on myself. Simply put: because if I didn't work hard for them, I wouldn't appreciate them, silly. If relationships were easy, then everyone would take them for granted. My marriage was hard, and I thought it was supposed to be... so I just accepted it. Until I started wishing he was dead. Or worse, me.

There has been some sadness in my life lately when I start to realize that I am really getting past that. There is no going back, no going home. I am happy in my relationships and happy in my heart, that there is freedom from someone who put me thru misery. However the little drag-down I'm feeling these days is minimal, and I realize it's part of my life now.

Stressful times, but my guy friend is coming to visit 3 weeks and 14 hours from now. SIGH! The next week, I'm going to visit a good buddy in Wisconsin. Don't say I don't get around on my vacations!

And... I'm moving in a another friend. We're sharing a duplex. I think it's going to be great having a roommate -- even the bickering, quarreling, him eating my good ice-cream. Me drinking his good wine.

The Indent Is Gone!
... the indent on my left hand, where my wedding ring used to live. No one noticed at all... but I went from wearing 4 rings (wedding band, engagement ring, plain gold band, and ruby ring) and matching gold jewelry every day... to wearing nothing, or else small silver pieces.

Nothing is the same. Not the way I looked at the world when I was almost 21, nor the way the world actually is, when I'm 31. My tastes are different, and I take much better care of myself with the long-run in view. The very first day of my blog, I said "Things are going to be okay... I just know they are"... I still mean that.

Being There

When I have a story that I feel is amusing, but it's not appreciated fully... someone always says "Guess you had to be there". Which is true; if they'd been there, it would've been funny. The same goes for loved ones as you feel like you love them better when you are there with them in your arms.

The happiest thing in the world to me is waking up and realizing my mom is home in the middle of the afternoon. (Been on overnights this week). We chatted and talked, talked and chatted. She told me that she supports me no matter what. I told her that I love her no matter what. How could a girl get so lucky?

My relationship with my mom had been really rocky for years, and was finally starting to repair when my marriage went topsy-turvy. I thought she would disown me for getting a divorce. But she is my staunchest supporter and still my biggest fan.

I want her to meet my new guy friend. He reminds me so much of her (very similar likes and dislikes, traditional values, etc.) and I want my mom to know that I am safer and happier than I've been in years.

New Orleans was a blast... what did it do to my emotions???

It was a great time in the Big Easy. Saw lots. Did Lots. I've been really shell-shocked since returning to home and to work. My friend... my really good friend and his daughter came with. Words can not describe how awesome it was to be in a family again. Even if that family was not my own, and even if it was for only a week.

Today I retook the GRE and got 160 pts. better than before. I'd been studying for it since getting home a week ago... so mentally I've been doing that instead of processing my trip. I... am... exhausted. (collapses)

The scoop on my friend is that I didn't mean to, but I've fallen for him. Maybe it's because I secretly wanted to and maybe it's because he's really that great. But I am defenseless. It is not healthy and I'm certain that it appears weak. The only thing that would make me happy is to spend more time with him.... and I can't have that. Suckage. I kinda hoped that he was defenseless toward me too, but I am not sure that he's on the same level as me. (Surprising, because he previously gave the impression that he was in for more than I was).

Let me take a minute to say that his daughter has also become a big part of my life. I always wanted a little sister, and it means so much to me that I can be there for her. She's really only a few years younger than me, so that isn't even awkward.

But anyways, back to my guy: my life is not divided up between before I was married, when I was married, and after I was divorced. No. It is divided up from before I knew him, and now, since we've started dating. I never thought it could be like this and now that it is... it scares the hell out of me.

Because I miss the utter closeness and security of marriage, because he lives on the West Coast, because we are not in the same place in our lives, because I am too intense for him, because he feels that he cannot keep up, because my heart is in his hands and I'm nearly petrified that he is going to let go... because of all of this, I have planned and mapped out my life to something I thought would, could, should be agreeable to both. Sigh.

But it's not, because between the past 3-4 days, I've been freaking out at him. If he ever decides to make a committment to me, I will have him committed. Plain and simple. The thing in life that makes the least sense is for someone, any one, THIS GUY to get involved with me: I'm a hurter, and user, a leaver. Unstable. Crazy. Not normal.

I am scared that I am making changes for him. I am scared because they scare him. And you know what? I am about --> <-- this close to taking it all back and staying the course here and finding my own way in life. I'm hurting and hurt and wandering aimless, adrifr in the sea. If love is going to do this to me... I am not sure if I want to be part of it. I want for dry land. Boring but safer.

Don't Say No.... Not yet, anyways.

All of my life, I have struggled. I have sometimes perservered and succeeded and sometimes tried and failed miserably.The thing I did for way too long, was listen to people who did not think I was capable of pursuing my dreams.

Guess what? I did succeed at my first goal of graduating from college. I did accomplish getting a job and then a better job. And this is not the end of the road for me professionally.

In the face of being told that I can not pursue my dreams in the way I have forseen... I look for alternatives while I perservere on the current front. Although I may not be good enough, I still want to try. Trying is how I learn how to succeed.

It makes me really angry when people tell me that I'm not good enough -- especially when they are not the ones who would decide my fate. Perhaps they are correct. And most probably, they ARE correct in their assumption that I will fail or worse, not even be able to begin.

However, that is not the point. A word of caution is one thing... a word of patronage is quite another. I don't appreciate being told by friends or family members that "perhaps you could do that... but only because you're a woman."

Perhaps I'm being overly sensitive, but this is my future, and I intend to protect it so it can continue to grow. All I wanted was support. Am I so wrong to be defensive toward my goals? Or, is it that I am "just a woman" and am not really taken seriously in the first place?

It was a cold and rainy afternooon....

...and it smells like rain outside. That's because it's raining. Heh. Counseling this morning. I explained to my therapist that I am dieting. But I used to make food my only friend (when I was fat) and have also in the past, utilized food as a means of control; i.e. starving myself to gain control over at least something in my life. She wants us to go over a bunch of self-image techniques after I return from New Orleans in a couple of weeks.

Not that I think I'm a total dog.... but I look in the mirror and do not see the prettiest woman. I see someone is just barely above grossing everyone out. I see lots of women who are prettier, and so do you. If you are not sure that's true, then why don't we talk about the pretty-faced, nice, yet heavy-set women and the handsome but stocky men with killer grins, which we see when we're out and about? A friend of mine always tells me about the "hotties" he meets at the gym. "She was about 5'2", blonde hair, blue eyes, nice and round breasts, a pinchable and tight rear-end, and very athletic." Here's what he would say about me "Average looking. 5'10" and the most outta-control frizzy red hair I've ever seen. Tries to be funny, but is basically just loud. An okay face, but too thick for my taste." That's okay, I'd say this about him "Great personality, no hair to speak of, potbellied, nice smile, looks 50 but is 40, worries too much about the future and does very little about it."

Each week, I get this newsletter from Divorce Magazine. There is an article this week about moving through grief. Some of the grief listed is death, but it can be applied to divorce too. This list appeared as affirmations about the situation... that you need to remind yourself often. I've changed the context from Death to Divorce, to increase its relevancy, and have listed it here, so you can see what I'm talking about:

I forgive myself for not knowing what was coming.

It's okay to be okay even though my loved one isn't.

When he/she was here, I gave all I was capable of at the time, and it is okay to give to myself now.

He/she left and I couldn't prevent it, and it is okay for me to be okay.

When my loved one was here, I loved them the best I knew how.

It's not my fault if my loved one didn't take care of himself.

I had no control over the circumstances that caused my loved one's leaving.

I am connected by my loss to millions of others and I am not alone.

So that's just about all from this little rainy college town today. I got my hair cut this afternoon, and completely dished about my life, to my always-cool hairdresser. I smell like coconuts and I am going to nap until the phone rings (invariably, it does, as I'm just "so" popular (rolls eyes at self)).

Controversial but relevant...

I usually avoid speaking of death. My attitude about speaking of it is decidedly Jewish, I've come to realize. Speak well of the dead, and don't tempt fate by speaking of someone's impending doom. However this morning, compelled by death in the news (former president Reagan), as well as this article which I just read... I'm feeling in quite the mood to discuss.

So, where to begin: the article is about suicide. I remember as a teen, my mom was always concerned that because my brother and I were so quiet about things that caused us pain... that we were suicidal. That couldn't have been farther from the truth! We were just intensely private about the pain we endured whilst growing up. I hated high school and felt in my element when I got out and into college. Never again would I let someone's opinions of my popularity effect my performance, social life, etc. Life is something which I love to do, and I feel it can always be improved upon.

About a two years ago, when S.T.B.E. and I began having the "irreparable" problems in our marriage -- the ones from which we never recovered -- I had an attitude shift. First, it came in the form of worry. He never called, but was often late getting home from work. I never knew what he was up to, but it was usually going to a sporting goods store and spending money that we didn't really have on fishing crap that he certainly didn't need. Formerly I would worry that he was lying in a ditch somewhere and it made me sick to think of him never coming home again. Yes, I know this part is sick, but I started to become disappointed when he would pull into the driveway. There was a night when he did not come home from work.. he went drinking with his friends and by the time I left for work at 3 AM, he was still not home. He called me on my way to work, completely soused. I was worried sick as given by my frantic phone calls to a friend, that he might be dead or something. But alas, he was not: he drove completely shit-faced drunk, home, telling me that the reason he had to get so drunk was that he could not express his feelings to me, but he could to his friends, when he was drunk. They, apparently, understood him. That night, and every night that he came home late thereafter... I began hoping that he was lying in a ditch somewhere.

The worse things got in the marriage, the more controlling he became and the more negative I was about my future.. I started mentally going through a litany of reasons that I needed to leave him. Nothing ever seemed good enough. Not a single reason. The pressure became enormous, and I was so miserable that suddenly I looked at the possibility of me stepping out of my life to get rid of the pain.

I never even tried to hurt myself... but for a few long weeks last summer, that seemed like it might have been a plausable solution. There was so much pressure and I was so eternally sad and hurt by the marriage and there seemed to be no hope for the future. I was suffering. Sometimes even now, I wish that I would be able to step out of the pain of my life. But the deeper I get into working through it... the more I see that I will be better off in the long run, to work through it, become stronger, and be more positive on the other side.

Working through the awfulness and pain associated with the unwanted loss of my spouse (recall that I did everything I could, for as long as I could, to make it work... until he forced my hand otherwise) has been the hardest damn thing I've ever done. Compared to this... an M.S. in Industrial Engineering will be somewhat of a labourious cake-walk. But if this makes me a more stable, more well-adjusted person in the end... then I'm all for it.

As always, I have to thank God for my wonderful life. I'm sure it's wonderful, because I have all of the trappings of a good life. Stuff, friends (and some unexpected new friends!) and even a good buddy rooting me on and supporting me in everything I do.... a buddy that even now, I am not sure I would stop falling for, if I wanted to. Mega-sigh.

Good life. Great Price. Wal-Mart.

ROTFLMAO!