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.
Sunday, August 29, 2004
Thursday, August 26, 2004
..... 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
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
Monday, August 23, 2004
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 18, 2004
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 17, 2004
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.
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.
Friday, August 06, 2004
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
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.
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.
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