I Am Thankful For....

Last year, I posted this as a status on Facebook:

MB... is thankful for all those little things I take for granted- C's sloppy little kisses when he thinks I'm asleep, attack hugs from J when she wants to wrestle, my dog's endless loyalty... even when I forget to feed her, the garage door opener on rainy days, hot water, out of the dryer blankets, drive thru liquor stores..... Kidding, but you get the picture! Look around, we all have SO much to be thankful for!

Wasn't that sweet?? It's wonderful that we each continue to grow and evolve. I would now like to update my thankful thoughts for 2010. Here goes:

MB... is thankful for stretch fabric, "one too many" beer nights, 7:30 bedtimes for kids, "He's Just Not That Into You" (a must watch for the single woman), jet bubble baths with a People Mag, NAIR, sending a direct message to the caller when I hit the "F you" button on my cell, baseball hats for bad hair days, again- drive thru liquor stores for various necessities, having enough self control to not recreate and improve episodes of "Snapped," doubling up on birth control, and being a single independent woman learning to not give a flying fuck what others think- even during my trippy moments. If you love me, you gotta love ALL of me.  

*Writer's note: Of course I'm FOREVER thankful for my children, friends and family that sing to the music for the dance of my life..... even when I forget the steps.

Shorthand Jive

WTF? IKR? STFU! OC! BTW! SMH! LOL! LMAO! ROTFLMFAO!

Ahhhh, gotta love shorthand in an era where we don't have even an extra moment to spell out what we're thinking....  and THAT got me to thinking. LMAO.... Laugh my ass off for anyone that hasn't paid a nick of attention to the last decade. I'm sorry but no matter how hard I laugh, da booty is still there. Walking on lunch with boom boom pow friend, we often have one too many hardy laughs which requires stopping, regaining composure and roping the bladder back to safety as well. One of us will invariably cross our legs to assist in the latter. A male coworker thinks we should wear Depends and just can't understand the delicate nature of a post-birthing bladder.

Hear Ye, Hear Ye...... LMAO will no longer suffice and shall immediately be replaced by a more suited HTCML.... "Had To Cross My Legs." I'm certain it's more spot-on than suggesting a giggle can make fat cells fly off one's posterior.

Flirting 101.... FAIL!

Sooooo, I'm browsing around a local department store. Not really shopping, just enjoying peaceful time alone. Wearing my favorite yoga pants and U of L shirt, I find myself in the shoe aisle. HEELS!! I love 'em but just can't afford anything extra at this time. And to be honest, they don't exactly go fabulously with my normal day to day life. ANYWAY, so there I was, hair in a loose messy ponytail, minimal make-up on, prancing back and forth in 3 inch heels (kick ass ones at that) and my slightly faded cotton/poly/spandex blend "gym outfit" when I could feel someone looking at me. I glanced up just as the eyes were looking away. Oooh, he's handsome, clean cut... and TALL (HUGE bonus for me.) I look back down focusing on my attire wishing I had bothered to put on more makeup today. As he walks by, I feel him looking at me again as I pretend to fully inspect the heels. Look up, look up, look up I tell myself but still can't! That gorgeous man struts by one last time some 10 minutes later while I scrupulously inspect a random purse and only looking up once it's quite safe to watch him walk away. 

I kick myself. I have NO game whatsoever. I'm 36 years old, I've birthed babies, I'm responsible for people's lives in my job, and I couldn't even look up and smile. Didn't realize I was back in 7th grade... only I DID talk to boys rather easily then. Now I'm just a NERD!

Maybe I should check this book out !

Whoops!

Last week as I was parked on the floor folding clothes in my daughter's room, she was bouncing and dancing circles around me. Attempting to slow down her hyper-twirl swirl, I noted she should be helping; she's old enough now. 

Her response, "Do I HAVE to help with stuff like this?" 

My response, "Yes and you are going to start now."

Daughter, "Because I'm a big girl and that's what six year olds do?"

Me: "How old are you again?" 

Daughter: "Six. Momma, you remembered that didn't you?"

Me: "Of course I did." 

Dang, I just forgot for a minute.... was thinking she was still 5. Actually sat on the floor and did the math for a second. HOW does a mom forget this????? My bad.

A Walk on the Dark Side

I try not to be detail-specific about the last few drama filled years with EX. It has been painful... beyond painful. And ugly...  beyond ugly. It was a downright nightmarish hell that spiraled into dark lockdown corners of state run mental hospitals, drug induced frenzies in the shadows of Louisville's crevices, constant chaos and his uncertain future. It was shocking, mindblowing, so incredibly saddening to watch a person I once loved so completely almost destroy himself and nearly take me with him. I teetered between never "letting" him get lost in the dark to letting go and moving on with life. I awoke each morning knowing only that I had two wonderfully innocent babies to love and protect from the hell their dad was engulfed in.

Mental health issues can be such a deep, imploding hell filled with never-ending questions. You can't run a test to produce a spot-on diagnosis. You can't do a scan, see the problem, and correct it with certainty. "He was normal" would be a statement I'd repeat often as others shockingly learned of his internal fight. I repeated it often probably more in attempt to convince myself this was indeed real and not some horrid nightmare. One treatment facility after another would produce varying diagnoses- bipolar with psychotic features, narcissitic, manipulative, schizoaffective, schizophrenic, underlying abuse etiology, overwhelming guilt, the opinions could go on.

Ex's mental health began deteriorating as my Mom's cancer worsened with his first hospitalization just 3 months before she passed. One of his psychiatrists told me his first breakdown... and introductory desent... was related to the overwhelming guilt he felt for having an affair during my second pregnancy while I was also caring for my Mom. She loved him. She encouraged him and took a real interest in his life. He still says no one loved him more than she and in the most perfect way. But ironically, he didn't feel guilty enough to STOP the affair, to admit it while I stood beside him and supported him. I diligently took our babies on "family day" to visit him from one facility to the next. I later learned, the girlfriend would be there minutes after I left. She was probably waiting in the parking lot watching me load up a 5 month old and not quite 2 year old into our minivan. What a perfect picture of the great all-American family. A few months later, my mom passed, I learned there were three people in my marriage and the other woman was desperate to hold on to the remnants of their relationship. I needed clarity and separated myself, or thought I was doing so, but that was just the beginning.

The next year revolved around drug binges with a crack cocaine addiction, property break-ins, suicidal ideations and attempts to follow through. Neighbors were calling the police to my house at 4 am, mental inquest warrants were processed, court ordered treatments, broken arms by drug dealers... saying his life was dark is a grand understatement. It was incredibly difficult to protect my children from this life while still attempting to help him. I thought that is what I needed to do. Even if our marriage was over, I didn't want this life for him. He was once a great person and I felt he was still in there somewhere. My life revolved around what was happening in his... and I was divorcing him. Finally, I gave up. I threw in the towel. I waved the white flag. I couldn't save him or even try anymore. It was costing me my own sanity. He tested it by calling "in crisis" and when I didn't drop everything a most unexpected thing happened. He started to "improve" on his own. Seems my help, even after separation, was empowering chaos.

I will never say EX deserved this. No one deserves the hell of deteriorating mental health. The internal chaos he felt was punishment enough. The stigma attached is even more punishment. I see glimmers of that old person here and there but scars are branded in my heart, in my feelings, in my arms-length dealings with others. He finally has a better grip on his health so much so that he takes our children regularly. Unfortunately, he does still cycle quite rapidly. One day is quiet and it arrives with a newfound appreciation because the next may involve a barrage of belittling insults, ranting text messages, personal attacks. It has taken months to accept this is my future, their future, his future. How I react makes all the difference.

There's a fine line between acceptance and accountability. I have finally ACCEPTED this is the reality of a person with a brain that ticks slightly differently. With that said, a person is still ACCOUNTABLE for the actions chosen; even during manic phases. I will always have a connection to EX, we have babies together. I will always care about him even though it seems insane to my close friends, but boundaries must be adhered to and I can no longer accept less than civil treatment. I always thought my toughest struggle was actually divorcing my past life. Little did I know, the hardest is creating and maintaining my own healthy future.

Is it...

Is it irrational to seek out true, genuine happiness?

Is it irrational to want to "just be" for a little while?

Is it irrational to look beyond the eye's perceptions in search of the core?

Is it irrational to be attracted to someone with a completely different reality of life?

Is it irrational to enjoy time with someone that helps you forget about your own pressing issues?

Is it irrational to look outside of comfortable to experience a new world?

No, no, no, no, no, and no..... BUT:

Is it irrational to expect a person to let down their facade when you hold up your own?

Is it irrational to let someone only show a small portion of himself and accept that as knowing him?

Is it irrational to expect him to share his real world but secretly build reservations after just a glimpse?

Is it irrational to constantly choose the path with rocks and stones and inflated expectations?

Is it irrational to have sheer frustration over something that cannot and will not change?

Yes, yes, yes, yes and yes. 

Do you stand up and walk, cutting out as early as possible to divert the inevitable? Or do you live in the moment and enjoy it for what it is? My, oh my. The paths I choose to explore. I have lots of stories to tell when I'm older..... It's a shame I won't be able to share most of them with the grandkids!

One liner

Entertaining reminder of pure "blessfulness" that my furniture doesn't reek:

"That's how it goes," Jess said wistfully. "You marry the man of your dreams and a couple of years later you find yourself living with a sofa that farts."

From the book, Apocalipstick by Sue Margolis

Lovin' my "Boom Boom Pow" Friend

Advisor, aka one of my footprint friends, always sends silly, off the wall, over the top texts. She makes me laugh when I'm in my self-righteous, piss-poor mood. After reaching max capacity in the ole inbox, I started browsing for messages to delete into oblivion. Instead I found reasons to smile, and yet another reason to be thankful for her boom boom pow awesomeness.

After spending a lake weekend with her and her crazy friends:
"What'r u sayin about it? That u slept cos we were a bunch of drunk, eye burnin, yahtzee playin, pistachio eatin, sufferin succotashin goof balls?" 
***And that's how the wonderful time went.. crazy, crazy!

For my birthday:
It's pretty crazy to say cos ur farely new n my life but, u r one of the few people in my life i am thankful for everyday lovey. It seems like ever since we started bein friends u help keep me sane n one way or another... always! And are completely irreplaceable in my life and I hope you remain there!!! I know I've told u a few times but u truly r one of the most unique and genuine people I've ever met and believe i ever will! I need you to say fuck all the Bs, Deeks, Armys, crazy exes, lazy shit talkin pcas if not forever for today and kiss the beautiful miracles u created and know u deserve better than anything anyone can ever give you!! I love you for every single inch of awesome woman you are!! Happy Birthday hott stuff!!!! Muah!!!!! Xoxoxoxoxo or is it oxoxoxoxoxox!!!
***Now how can a woman NOT feel good about themselves after this?!?

When I felt life was handing me another setback, she looked up my birth day in a book:
"although they often seem to depart from their principal activity and suffer an unusual number of setbacks, they rarely ever give up, and return to implement their plans with a renewed vigor."
***Ok, ok, I'm out of my pajamas now and ready to "go at it" again.

And today-
"I love u!" My response? "I love u 2, but any reason for the friendly reminder?" Her: "No, I just do."
***And thank you very much for doing woman!

A Day in the Life

One of those days.... one of those weeks.... and friendly reminders I should have truckloads of ibuprofen on hand. Here's just a sample:

* Flush the toilet in my bathroom and the handle breaks off in my hand. Now a member of the redneck club as the lid's off the tank so I can pull the chain to flush. Nice.

* Come home to find a strange, frothy bright orange substance vomited from one end of my living room to the other. Seems my dog's taste buds enjoyed old, discarded cosmetics more than her stomach. Scrub, steam clean, scrub and now just a delightful orange sherbet color reminder.

*Dropped my son off at preschool- 1st day and new school. Felt like I was the recipient of a hefty sucker punch.

*Spent 2 hours doing catchup work with my daughter after she missed a day of school- already. She chose to hit herself in the head with the pencil while I kept repeating "Pay attention!" 

*Screwed up a gas trimmer that is only a week old. Seriously a grrrrrrr!!!

*Spent half a day speaking with: the insurance company, an attorney, a police officer for advice, a behavioral health professional, and the kind people at my local AT&T store. Growing up's a bitch. 

*My beautiful little weeping cherry tree appears to be dying a slow death from neglect. Noticed too late.

*Strange light bulb issues- seems I walk by and pop! Two out in the kid's bathroom, darkness in my closet, and pulled the string off the fixture over my washer and dryer (again) and all in two days. Bizarro.

Some days you just have to laugh. Hardy har har. ;)

Booooooty's Callin'

I'm good with the weight I've gained over the past two years. My BMI is good, the bra size has increased (yay!) and I'm becoming accustomed to the few curves. Stick Girl for most of my life actually looks "healthy" as my late grandpa would say. Problem is.... seems my derriere has become quite the panty muncher and it's making me crazzzzy! My originally bikini positioned panties are quickly becoming thongs. And thongs, shesh! It's a sad sight when the back triangle is only halfway to its intended position and forget about comfort! So, off to buy new roos I went and quickly hit the brakes. Skreeeech!!!!.... Question to pose:

Where can a woman find fun, quality panties that don't cost both butt checks AND aren't granny panties?!?

Have you recently stepped into a Victoria's Secret? When did they change their market strategy/target audience to teenagers? I'm a big fan of their "Cheeky, Cheekier, Cheekiest (but I pass on the latter) line but the design pattern and color choices clearly cater to early college students as the oldest. I feel like a "wannabe" just browsing through looking for sophisticated fun. Waaaay back on a few rounders you will find simple, plain cotton bikinis... borrrring. Oh unless, you want a little class, then another rounder has a few 3/$30 panties that are cut sexier but don't stay put. I've been here, there, everywhere quite like my panties in search of comfort. Alas, I will continue the tireless search, readjusting the garments covering my booty until I either find what I'm looking for (and reasonably priced) or wave the white flag and just starting going commando.

Quote Time!

The quote whore in me had to share this from Alice Abrams:

"In life as in the dance, grace glides on blistered feet."

    **Note to self, my life still needs a pedicure.

Note to Self....

I have an entire bathroom drawer jammed full of lotions and smell goods rarely used. I decided it was time to exploit their splendid scents even if I share them with no one else for the day. After showering I lotioned up, found the corresponding spray and pssshh, pssshh, pssshh- sprayed it circling around my front side, neck and around and down. Whooooo hooooo hoooo... OH MY!!! Certain freshly shaved areas don't appreciate an alcohol based spray. HOOOOLY mother of pearl, y'ouch!!! I didn't know smelling so good could burn so bad!

Drop the H

Ever notice how whine and wine sound exactly the same but are at opposing ends of your mood spectrum? Keep the H in happiness and out of your wine!

Roooad Trip

I'm taking a much needed partial-break from reality next week and will be beach bound. I say "partial-break" because my two munchkins will be in tow. The challenge will be to actually get there with as little drama as possible. For the 630 miles each way, I'm working on a list of things for them to do. So far I've have coloring books, "I spy" games, and a dual screen DVD player I'm borrowing from a seasoned traveler friend with little hellions as well. Did I mention this movie player has headphone jacks?!? Ahhh, thank ya Jesus!

While my kids are enjoying their entertainment, I will be upfront with my iPod and my 6-disc car CD changer. I've reserved two slots for kiddie CDs that I can somewhat tolerate. But the other four positions are alllll mine. Each CD will have a theme and here's the breakdown:

Happy, Sappy, Rocky, Cocky

Sounds good to me. Happy- feel good, life is great music. Sappy- songs that string the chords in my heart. I plan on playing this minimally. Rocky- ya gotta love a bit of hairband magic and a few screaming guitars. I may have to curtail my normal singing at the top of my lungs to keep the natives in the backseat calm. Cocky- get up and dance, I'm the shihitz... ya know, those songs you don't actually own up to knowing.

So that's the plan. And if the three of us go absolutely mad together in the car, I will do my best to convince my friend in the car ahead to swap kids for a little while. Musical car seats. I hope it works. Either way, it will be worth every whining moment to sit on the beach, "take it all in" and let the tide take away my troubles. Can't wait. No, really I CAN'T wait. Sooo ready to lose myself for a while!

Smile

Just wanted to share something I heard the other day.

I know that smile.
I miss that smile.
I want to kiss the lips that make that smile.
I want to wake up everyday to that smile.
I want to kiss that smile goodnight every night.

How's that saying go.... Smile because you never know who's falling in love with it. I think that's it. This reminded me to let that frown go.

The Mighty Oak

When restless, I start looking to make changes. Some for entertainment and others out of sheer necessity. My most recent is for the latter and to save my children from yet another splinter-filled summer. I've spent HOURS tearing the dilapidated deck off my house and rebuilding a new and greatly improved shade-quenching one for my sunburned outdoor space. The new house doesn't have a single tree planted to take roots. Far different from the mighty Oak at my previous house, there's not a a bit of shade here. It's all open and unprotected. I pondered this while hammering the 136 nails into boards on the deck rails one afternoon. Protection.... what an interesting word. Dictionary.com states it is: the act of protecting or the state of being protected; preservation from injury or harm.

I realize that while the old house was my old life, there are a few things I miss from it. I adored that great Oak tree outside my dining room windows. I miss the shade it would cast into the upstairs bedrooms. The greatest storms would roll through and that tree stood tall and never wavering. The roots were strong and I never worried about its vulnerability. While living there, I thought I was joined with someone that was my protection and security, if you will. The toughest acceptance was realizing my protector was the one that actually destroyed it and took trust and a plethora of other mind-calming traits with it. 

Moving to the new house on a treeless lot gave me the opportunity for a fresh, unscripted start. I could finally take a deep breath and no longer felt I had a cinder block restraining me. Although I never want him back and that life is long gone, sometimes it's difficult to rely only on myself. Sometimes it would be comforting to rest my head at night knowing someone else has my best interest in mind too. Security is something a single woman just doesn't feel. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE being independent, going about my business, and setting my own path. But it would be nice for just one night to hand over my fears to someone else and know I'm not in this alone.

The reality is I've only recently recognized the damage another person can do. I felt like I made it through the worst storms. I'm out, the kids are out, we are better now but the verbal and emotional abuse of the last few years have taken their toll. When things aren't as EX would like, I can surely expect him to spew every offensive and demeaning thought he has. Then it's a barrage of disgusting, belittling texts until my phone reaches capacity. Dependent on his "cycling" this may continue for hours, even days sometimes. I used to make a joke of it but the reality is I would rather be punched in the face repeatedly than subject myself to his immeasurable tactics. At least I could visibly see the damage and recognize this is NOT okay. I would never openly give him the satisfaction of crumbling, but it's difficult at times. The protection that was once so comforting is now what creates my biggest vulnerability. 

Tonight, I sit on the new covered deck looking into the yard. It's full of kid toys, swingset, pool and yet it feels so empty. Protection and security are not things you can see, but what you feel. It's having faith that those strong roots will hold even the heaviest branches up during trying times. I'm sure my mighty Oak in New Albany is standing tall even after the worst storms. I'm still standing as well and someday I will be as tall again too. Until then, I'm planting a few trees in this barren yard and you can bet one will be a mighty Oak.

Secrets of the House

It's been a while since I blogged, I've had the thoughts but not enough time in the day. Summer is here, school is out, the kids are wild, and I'm putting a deck on my house. You get my drift... you're probably on the same pattern as well. Shewww! I'm tired! Just wanted to share a few shortcut "secrets" tonight:

I would love to scrapbook adorably cute, forever memorable albums for my children to browse through with their children. However, I've succumbed to the fact it "ain't never gonna" happen. Sooo, my second best alternative is to buy cute photo albums with a memo section built in preceding the picture slot. Here I put cute little scrapbooking stickers and write little notes from that day. It's more personal and sure beats an album packed with photographs but omitting its story. You could go yet another route and print those in book form through snapfish and the like. I, however, would end up with 400 books and it's just too costly for that!

My friend let me in on a fantastic idea she does with her children's artwork. She takes a favorite and has it made into blank notecards. Do you need to send a quick thank you to Auntie for your child's birthday present? How perfect is the notecard for that! Note to the teacher? Even better! (Brown-nosing points included.) The only problem I am running into is: how on earth do you choose just ONE per kid?!

You know, with digital cameras I take entirely tooo many pictures. I really do. I was originally trying to clear out "less than stellar" photos before transferring pictures to a thumb drive. Then I started thinking about how my kids will never be THAT age again. That day has passed. What's one more picture? That's the joy of digital photography. You can keep every single moment and you don't HAVE to print every picture. I look at my babies and can't believe how much they have changed since we moved here. Time flies. And I'm going to keep every precious moment I have, so what if the picture isn't "perfect." Someday all these silly times will be just perfect memories.

Round and Round

Late Entry. Blog post for April 17, 2010.

Soo, Playa... I am over his flipflop, dillydally attitude. But still, there's something  that annoyingly keeps him in my head. I drop kick him out, he comes back after a few months. While I no longer seriously entertain the idea, I can't figure out why I even listen. It's clear we will never give the other what they need. So why bother? He and I have talked about how we're never on the same page at the same time. So what is it?!? Randomly and when I least expect it, he's pops back. It's all cautious when he's not sure if I'm going to hear him out or rip his head off. Next is a phone call saying he was going to stop by but didn't know if my man would be here. I don't correct him to divulge that the only man in my life is 4 yrs old. The conversation ends after an hour by saying if I ever want to go riding (motorcycle) then give him a call. And there it is, he props the door open again. Those that know me also know that I'm almost infatuated with motorcycles and speed evoking adrenaline. But I'm just too tired to play this game. He likes the chase and I drive with a flat tire.

In text talk with my bff about Blue (after all she and my sister fully interrogated this man while I was in the loo), I mentioned that he was a history buff and seemed, well, possibly just a shade on the side of too safe. No, I don't want to say boring, he's incredibly funny so let's say mellow. Here's how the text convo proceeded:

Me (About him): His Interests are learning about our founding fathers and the Constitution. Fave quote is by Thomas Jefferson. Fave book is Liberty and Tyranny.... this guy may run for office some day... I'd hate to ruin that for him...

BFF: He's a history buff which is a much cheaper habit than gambling, drugs and various bizarre obsessions such as bobbleheads.

Me: Just sayin....

BFF: Whatever. The minute he didn't turn up on a bike with another woman on the back and a cig out of his mouth and the popo following him , u lost interest.

Me: Omg, I love you. I reallllly do. U may know me a bit too well.

BFF: I just described ur most recent fantasy, didn't I? Bet I was even there standing on the walk asking u not to go as u hopped on the back and rode away.

Me: Umm, well.... Huh. Maybe? U actually had hand on hip, shakin ur head and rollin ur eyes, lol.

BFF: Boy this all sounds really familiar.

Me: And then you tell me to shut the hell up as I whine that some bitch was callin him baby...

BFF: And ur surprised.... again.

She has the scenario pegged. I love it that she also coached me on what I can and can't say to Blue. The legitimate concern is that he may just hightail it if he knows too much too quickly. It's clear if I screw this one up (and I always do) I will have to answer to BFF. She thinks I'm nuts, she knows I need a stable, available MAN in my life. But why do I have that burning attraction for bad boys? Is it possible that I've lived in such chaos for so many years that I've confused stability for boring? Heartbreak for excitement? Thrill for happiness? I've always liked things a little on the wild.... but I'm tired of pumping air back in for one more lap. It's TIME to grow up... at least a little.

"Sometimes, You just have to get away with the girls."

Waaaahoooo! I'm ready for a GNO for this!!!


I need to focus and get a few things done... like the three blog posts I've started but have yet to finish. Maybe because each has no ending, maybe because each is a bit personal, maybe because I am usually "On it" but when I'm off.... I'm 4-wheelin. Found the map (or should I say GPS??) and will be back on track shortly. Time to knock the dirt off my heels!

Being a REAL Woman and Single Mom Means....

.....you can't remember it ALL all the time. I went for my annual exam, stripped down and threw on the gown. I  fear my gynecologist will open the door as I'm standing stark naked for the office to see. Seriously, who cares! She delivered my first baby, she's seen it all and will again in a few minutes. But anyway, I hop up on the table actually enjoying a few minutes of quiet. I laugh looking at myself in a hospital gown and socks until I realize.... I have on two different socks. As I go to yank them off in a not so discreet fashion, the doctor walks in. It was perfect timing to find me in a most bizarre position, alone and naked. I explain, she laughs, and it's on about the business. As I get dressed, another revelation occurs. Seems I should pay more attention to other things too. I went to the tanning bed a few days prior in an attempt to erase fifteen tan lines. I burnt myself just a smidgen in areas that NEVER see sunlight... and it was now peeling and flaky..... I'm glad I usually only see her once a year.

*Last week, my cousin blogged about her hair ornament and her gyno visit. I chuckled.... paybacks!

All In A Name

Do you ever need to have a private discussion in a not-so secluded location? It's not necessarily the subject but rather "who's who" of the chatter. I was clearing out texts and chuckled at the perfectly conceptualized nicknames created or earned by various people in... or out of my life. EX used to be quite the snooper (remember boundary issues?) and I originally did this to blanket protection for myself as well as friends. Sounds like the beginning of a CrimeStoppers show, huh? Names have been changed to protect the identity of those involved. Just to share:

Advisor- One fantastic gf that listens to issues and dishes advice as needed. We're all over the board too- makeup, clothing, music. She's younger and gives me a healthy spin on occasion.

Diva- This woman and I think so much alike it's scary. We make similar choices in the love area (so we are both wrong!) that we'll never run out of things to banter. The big difference- she is much more diva fabulous than I. She keeps the whole package up- the hair, the nails, the clothes. And she ALWAYS looks pulled together. Me? Not so much.

Hot Date- A gf that loves to go out and have a good time. We're on the same wave so it works. Her nm was born when EX pickpocketed my cell. It is certainly none of his business to know a bit about my friends, male or female so let him conclude what he wants. Besides, she's gorgeous and IS my hot date for night's out and would be for a guy too if she weren't married. Love her husband by the way, he's "Rusty Balls" but that's a COMPLETELY different story and not what you would think, sorta.

Train- Ex-bf of mine that was a train conductor. Simple nickname for a simple kinda man. He's so sweet but a bit too country. 

Superman- His name was Clark. That's it. I never ended up going out with him. EX saw this on my phone and wouldn't let our son watch Superman or play with those toys for a good 2 months. I'm not joking.

Mitchell- Seems one friend couldn't remember his name, but rather his podunk hometown. Really it should have been: Possessive, Aggressive, Chopperhead, something along those lines. 

Psych- The family therapist I keep saying I'll go out with. He's nice enough, attractive enough, but eh... not quite sure. He asks, I say yes we need to get together, but well... I worry that I'll be the lead subject in a psychoanalysis book "Days and Nights of a Crazy Lady and Her Psychodrama: A Melodrama"  instead of a dinner companion. Even disregarding human nature, his career is to analyze people and their situations and I could keep this man busy for YEARS. This could go really, really bad.

Big, Playa, Deek, Thug- Yes, all those names collared by one. He started as Big- very tall and just as emotionally unavailable as SATC's Big. Then to Playa as he loves the dating game (see Game Over entry). Then edited to Deek and only because I'm a lady and can't openly call a guy a penis. And alas, Thug. Let's just say his arrest record surprised me.... even after he forewarned me of his murky past. Seems he encompasses the last few months as "the past" as well. Pending issues. 

Blue- Just met Blue this past weekend. This nickname took a great deal of consideration. His shirt was blue. Yeah, real soul searching although his nm should be Baby Blue... He's 6 years my junior and that's a huge sticking point but more because he has no kids, never been married.. items I've checked off my "To Do" list and WILL NOT be adding them back. He's cute, super nice and must give it a shot if he STILL wants to go out after Diva and I got him thrown out of a bar with us. Talked for two hours tonight. Will reserve it for a future blog when I know more. 

There's more. Just look at someone and an imaginary bubble sporting a nickname will fluff over their head. Try to be nice too. You don't want to sound to horribly cynical. I learned this after nicknaming someone Fatty-  eh, still rude even if there was truth.. and a story behind it. Imposter would have been more fitting. There's JSwagga, TT (aka Tall Trooper), OMG- perfect, Zele aka Detroit, Roc, Army (guess who from previous blogs), then names given to other friend's men- Divo, Commish, Player (not to be confused with Playa), Rehab, 12, her Army. You get the picture. Set up shop in the middle of a crowded place and have a full discussion with your advisors, divas, and hot dates worry free. I like it.

Favorite Saying

In the endless chatter between myself and Diva Cousin, a new motto for the male drama we share spewed from my lips. Here goes it:

Man UP or Boy OFF!!

Must say, I'm kind of feeling it. Would love to say it to a particular guy. Notice there's no room  for a GUY. Either be a MAN or return to your juvenile adolescence to be clearly tagged BOY and marked off my list... please. Save me some time. Thank you, that's all for now.

MY March Madness Bracket

Thirty six, treinta y seis, trente-six, trentasei... my birthday number for the year. I've officially graduated to the "box" that insinuates if you're 36 then you might as well be 40... Ya know, in questionnaires I've moved from the 20-25 girl years of spontaneous road trips, FINALLY legally buying alcohol and no worry times. In the 26-30 bracket, it was a less girl to more woman transformation- marriage, a real career, buying a home, having my first baby. Onward and ripping through 31-35, another wonderful baby then the girl in me disappeared and life turned quite serious. Major changes, significant losses. All woman, no girl and unrelenting pressure. Now to drop that bracket and check the 36-40 box, the "age" of my attitude adjustment.

I've always loved my birthday and never dreaded gaining a year, I look younger than my chronological age, or so I've heard. I've always been on the athletic side. "Ohh, that will change when you hit 30" I was told. Well, I had a baby at 30 and shrunk back to my "below average" weight. I had another baby, and again, went right back to my pre-baby weight without ever hitting the gym. God bless genetics. Now before you smack me, please note that the only guarantee in life is that things are constantly changing... well, and that you will die some day, but I digress. Peculiar things happened between my 35th and 36th year, and here are some nitpicking observations.

YEARS ago I saw a Golden Girl's episode where my fave, Blanche, said all women KNOW that missionary is the ONLY favorable position. When questioned, she suggested that her face still looked flawless in that position and is a sore sight when she's "on top." Last week, I leaned OVER a mirror on the counter to tweeze my brows and about fell over. Wowwy!! I had NO idea, my face could even LOOK like that. Cartoonishly scary. Go try it, seriously. I'll wait.......

Quietly over the last couple of years, I've put on about 15 pounds. I needed to gain a few and like it for the most part. I actually have a decent bosom, something that was nonexistent in the "stick years." Post-child nursing, I've learned the importance of "push-up" bras (not padded!) to get the girls back up where they belong. And I actually have a booty. None of the women in my family have a butt, literally. My family is FULL of flat-ass women, it's the trademark. I may get kicked out of the club for this. I kinda like my mirror reflection... but this is enough, NO MORE!

I recently started running. First, my right foot started hurting- no surprise- I've had foot surgery. Changed up the shoes and at it again. Now my knee is filled with a chronic ache... along with the foot. I had to add some jamming music in my ears to drown out my panting and gasping for air as I felt each step pound the pavement. It shocked me when I heard my breathing in the momentary silence between songs. I'm surprised the neighbors haven't called an ambulance as of yet.

For my bracket, there's no specific fashion division. You can either go too young and foolishly dress like a teenager or into the world of elastic waistbands, cardigans, and Dr. Scholls. Where does a 36-40 woman find age appropriate, and yet FUN clothing... and on a single mom's budget?!? My aunt gave the BEST advice a few years ago. She told me to show as much skin as I want NOW because there'll be a time that I'll want to cover it up. I never knew what she meant... but I'm getting the hint now. My skin is changing. I am developing laugh lines, frown lines, curious lines, fine lines. Sun/age spots are popping by to say hello.... admittedly, I did nothing to stave those off in my teens and twenties. I naturally have jet black hair and look better with a little sun. Without it and considering black is my favorite clothing color, I look like a gothic cult ringleader. So back to the clothing dilemma, no short-shorts here but fitted clothing not requiring an orange peel for removal are a go. Then heels for dressier nights out. I can't believe I used to fear heels. Wearing them makes me feel "pulled together" and grown up. I don't feel like such a child, my legs look killer long, and the posterior looks better. Still, heels make my running foot hurt... I may have to stop running....

Unladylike noises. Hey now! Stop thinking THAT way! I was talking about those ridiculous noises made when getting off the floor, squatting down to reach the bottom shelf at the grocery, picking your child up to put them in the car... uhhh or ughh sounding noises. I catch myself doing it all the time. Is there a timer in my uhhh brain I can shut off for a while to silence that??

Other random aging thoughts: I have to dye my hair. I have WHITE sprouts that MUST be concealed. As a bonus, once the color begins to fade, those white hairs tricked black actually reflect as little brown. Bam, instant highlights! As for makeup, I get LOST in the foundation department scrutinizing each bottle's guarantee for "age defying, pore concealing, line refining" tricks. After 10 grueling minutes, I make my purchase only to later find it was the wrong tint. Grrrr! How am I supposed to guess this by looking at a "swatch" on the shelf label?! Can you tell single mom budget prevails here too?!? And on that note, I purchased the generic Oil of Olay to save a buck only to cringe later. It read "Beauty Fluid"... Why in the sam hell would they call it fluid?!? Maybe it's my offbeat humor, but it sounds disgusting!! Works the same though, fyi.

I could fill this with changes (my hair's not as curly, nails are more brittle, fingers are bonier, etc) but it must stop somewhere! I only recently started noticing fashion, hair, makeup, and the like. Single woman-dom will do that. I don't run out and buy "must-haves" but I do notice. Thank goodness everything changes- the bad times, fashion boos, uneven haircuts (something I am experiencing right now). Being stagnant can be dangerous. People SHOULD change with age and (hopefully) new, insightful wisdom is along for the ride. Now I have another year to enjoy and more birthday candles to blow out. Keep the oxygen tank handy!

Secrets of the House

Paint toenails with metallic nailpolishes for warmer weather. The metallic hides imperfections even when the tootsies need another coat. Small chips are nearly undetectable. It's all about easy breezy.



Skip the overbearing car fresheners. Slip a fabric softener sheet under your car seats to have a light and airy smell.... I'm currently obsessed with the lavender scent. Double duty if you find yourself with a static problem, swipe it from under the seat and run it along your clothes. Presto! (I realized today leaving spearmint gum in your car works pretty darn good too!!)

Use dry erase markers to leave notes on the bathroom mirror and windows. The marker wipes right off and the kids think I'm neat. Wink, wink. (DO make sure your kids know it's not a normal marker. THAT could be trouble!)

For my first apartment, Mom and I made curtains out of sheets. We used a twin size flat sheet as one panel. While redecorating my living room on a tiny budget, I found discount fabric to re-upholster pillows, but couldn't find coordinating blue curtains in my budget. Walking through a large chain store, I headed to bedding. I love it that they 1. had the perfect shade of blue 2. sell each bedding component individually and 3. had enough full sheets to split and make two panels. We're talking 6 curtain panels for $24. After laundering: split them, finish the raw edges, zip a stitch on top about an inch down (to create the "pinch" on top and pocket for the rod), iron and ta-da, big changes on a little budget! The nice part is the LOWER the thread count, the better- super soft sheets don't make for great curtains!

Open Mind Policy

Thank you for the wonderfully sweet words, posted on here and to me personally. Sometimes it's easy to get stuck in the low moment, but the human spirit shining through words of kindness and encouragement can really lift a girl up. So MANY thanks. I just keep thinking some day, this won't hurt so much.

I am usually horrible at remembering dreams with any real clarity. The alarm goes off and I hit the floor running. In reflection, I DO know it was extra special to wake up with the presence of Mom and remember our talk to the last detail. The next night, as I drifted off I hoped she would visit again. I had questions. I was startled by the annoying AM buzz and actually had a recollection of my night's thoughts but instead I chuckled... I was getting a pedicure. Yep, that's it. No major revelation, no life-changing event. And pedi's are something I don't have the luxury to do! No luck, I'll try again. But that next morning... I was kicking up dirt and doing donuts through a cattle show in a General Lee car (Dukes of Hazzard!) Wow. If this sampling represents the inner workings of my nocturnal brain, I may just enjoy my AM amnesia! So instead, I thank her for the visit and tell her I will have my neon "Open" sign lit just for her if she ever wants to come back. That may very well have been the one and only, but she arrived at such a critical time, I am forever grateful.

Heaven Sent

I awoke at precisely 3:09 am smiling ear to ear. I had been holding my Mom's hand and it was wonderfully comforting. The words she spoke were echoing in my head. Strength, encouragement, such familiarity. I stirred around for a moment enjoying how she always lifts me up. Then a sickening feeling washed over me, confusion set in. "Wait a minute," I whispered glancing around my bedroom dimly lit from the hallway. Where is she? Is she here? Oh no, no, no. She's not. But she WAS just here.... wasn't she? Loneliness immediately rushed out the peaceful feeling. It felt as I was reliving her death again. I've dreamed about her only a few times since she passed. But this one, this one was REAL. It couldn't have been a dream. I held her hand, I could FEEL her hugging me. I ran my fingers over her wedding rings as we talked. I told her I couldn't see her, my vision was blurry. She calmly said she is right here. I ask her why I can't see her... my eyes just won't work, she repeats that she is right here. My hand never left hers. I FELT her next to me while we talked. I can't believe it wasn't real! What a cruel trick, I thought. What a mean joke to play on someone feeling the loss now more than ever. I want to return to that dream, I didn't know it wasn't real now I wish it wouldn't have ended. Tears roll down my face now as I think about it. I will never get over her death. It would define who I am today if I let it.

Times have been tough lately. Mentally, physically, financially. I have moments of sheer unrelenting desires to scream "I GIVE UP!!!" until my voice gives way. Then a sweet innocent face will say "Momma" and I remember why I fight so hard to keep our little family together and running. My kids look to their mom just as I looked to my own. We are the "little engine that could" family and have conquered many mountains together already. But I have a struggle that is all my own now. I started reading "Motherless Daughters" in a quest for healing and peace. While I can't say it has sped up healing, there's comfort in numbers even when you feel like the only lost soul. I distantly remember my Mom's pain when her mother passed. It was life altering for her as well. I suppose every woman will be forced into this club at one time or another, kicking and screaming as I have. I mistakenly thought my hardest moment was that storming night and I softly spoke "Go with God Momma" as she took her last breath. I prayed she would not take another. I wanted this fight to end for her. I looked to the clock and announced her time of death. Later, my aunt would ask how I knew that was her last. All I could say was I could feel it. I thought that was the toughest moment of my own life. Little did I know, the worst is actually here and there and strikes with such reverence it forces out my own breath... and hope.

My sister and I have been disconnected as of late, so we set out on a short road trip today, gabbing the whole way. We talked of her growing photography business, our kids, the random updates in our lives. As our chatter slowed, I told her about my dream. The tears mutually started, something we do well together. She said, "Oh, that WAS Mom. She WAS there. She knew you needed her." I nodded in agreement but still wondering if it was just a dream. Hours later, I received disappointing news. I spent all evening frustrated and upset. My sister's words came back. I was shocked at how "spot on" she was and how skeptical I have become. But it just makes sense. There is no other answer. Mom knew I was going to have one of those "Give Up" moments today. She knew my faith has been stretching thin. She knew I needed a reminder that she IS, in fact, still right here. I DID talk to her at three am in the silence of my bedroom. She was here. I hugged her. I held her hand. She told me she loved me. Sometimes my faith drifts. Sometimes I think I'm being tested beyond what a "normal" person can handle. I get frustrated. I get angry. I question everything. Maybe the answer is quite simple. Maybe I've been looking everywhere but at the moment that started a drastic change in my life and ended hers on earth. Maybe the answer is the last thing I spoke to her... "Go with God" in everything- my beliefs, my fears, my worrisome nights, and that's all I need to know. Maybe now it's up to me to believe.


*My little boy (my Mom's "bonus baby") has been sleeping next to me while I blogged. As I finished the last sentence, he awoke, sat up, hugged me and went straight back to sleep. God... and love... works in ways we don't always understand. But if we close our eyes and choose to believe, then it's even more than we ever hoped to see. Thanks Momma Chiquita for sending the hug too.

Love you, miss you, always with you.

Phenomenal Woman

Just a small reminder for all those phenomenally wonderful women out there.

PHENOMENAL WOMAN
by Maya Angelou


Pretty women wonder where my secret lies
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing of my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them,
They say they still can't see.
I say
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
The palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.



from And Still I Rise by Maya Angelou
copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou.

What The Funk?!?

March. Waaahooooo! Spring. About time!! Warm. When??? Now I'm going to sound like that 80 yr old pocket change jingler, but awful strange weather we are having. Seriously where is the sun, warm weather, birds spreading their wings after a long winter? Hellllo Mother Nature, did you sleep through your alarm? Hit the snooze? Do you need a reminder? I can shoot you a text, call your cell? Are you on Facebook? Twitter? I'd even log back on to Myspace if that's where you're hiding. I'm sorry, but your performance as of late is simply not acceptable. And between us, your ass would get a pink slip if it were up to me. I can not wear these bulky sweaters one more day and my feet miss the way it feels to slide between crisp cotton sheets without fuzzy socks running interference. So please NOW and I'll let you keep your job... but don't expect a raise this year.

Cleaning out my little walk-in, my seasonal routine, I happily bagged up winter items still donning tags and hit the return lines. I can't "do" winter any longer. I've redecorated my living room from deep reds and tans to whimsical blues. I've changed candles to light and airy, I've stacked up closet "keepers" to bag for the attic. Without further delay, I set out to resuscitate my stale, stuffy closet. Bundled in a wool coat with gloves dangling from the pockets, you will see me smiling into a store mirror with oversized sunglasses hiding my mid-30's eye wrinkles. And next briskly pushing them on top of my head. My sunglasses are multi-purpose: the obvious- eye protection with an air of sophistication and the elementary- to function as a headband... can't slip or worse, stretch! Shedding fuzzy socks, I'm pulling pant legs up to admire the newest spring sandals.... ohhh, and maybe those open-toe heels too. Next up, check out the dressing room. With winter layers piled in a corner and a mirror reflecting one pale body, I'm scrutinizing one of the five two-piece bathing suits I adored. Ugh, not this one- the material doesn't even begin to cover my butt, oh this one makes me look flat as a pancake up top, this one is just plain strange, what size is this one because it can't be tagged right... Oh yeah, most definitely need to do sit-ups again and lay off winter baking and get a tan and then this last one will do.

Maybe I'm fast tracking but a summer of cute sundresses, little skirts with tanks, alive colors, and fun blouses is waiting... so close that I can almost grab it. I'm ready to feel like a "girl" and not a coat rack, footloose and carefree, shed those blahs and emotions of one hard never-ending winter, wear brilliant colors to make my eyes sparkle, put a little rose on the cheeks... In all honesty, I legitimately have seasonal affect disorder, unaffectionately referred to as the funk. By the time February hits, I'm struggling with my other personality- Queen Grouch. I shouldn't live in an area with four true seasons. I would be thrilled with only one. A decorated palm tree for Christmas suits me juuuuuust fine. I love windows open with curtains blowing, deck time with friends.... yum, the smell of the grill!!!! Sunshine cures the madness, homegrown fruits and vegetables, hair thrashing wildly in a breezy car, my kids crashing into dreams after a hard day's play outside, flip flops and pink toenails, birds chirping good morning, the smell of freshly cut grass.... I can see myself running through a field of daisies as I type this. HELP, Mother Nature I am losing it! Fix it now and your job's not in jeopardy, my imagination was just on defrost, now please show everyone just how magnificent you.... and me in a cute little sundress.... can be!

Love Is All Ya Need.

For a Valentine's Day celebration, I had the wonderful opportunity to "put on" my daughter's kindergarten party. There's nothing like 23 giggly five year-olds overly excited to put you in the spirit. My daughter was absolutely BEAMING. Sitting at her little table, grinning ear to ear, she kept waving to me and her dad. She was so proud and told everyone at her table who we were. The kids were so excited to loot through their valentine mailboxes. A simple candy heart stacking games was a success. Those little, innocent giggles are downright infectious and it was just what I needed. (Cheap prizes make all the difference too!) It was a simple little party that probably made my day more than hers. Later while snugging my daughter in bed, I kissed her little forehead and thanked her for letting me do the party. Her big blue eyes lit up; she asked if I had fun. Of course I did, I tell her. She hugged me tight and said I was the best momma ever. My heart started to melt. Those skinny little arms around my neck just hit the spot. It was the perfect reminder of true, unconditional love. Things aren't perfect. Things are downright tough sometimes, but I wouldn't trade a minute of it.

Life; Most Definitely Interrupted

As much as I adore today's easy connections, it can have a price by allowing you a glimpse at "what might have been" or even the "what could be." Among all its wonder, it can be a medium to find lifelong connections that may just strike the core of your soul. And in reverse, it may be an avenue to forge unspeakable friendships and has the ability to ruin once-prized relationships. Where you draw that imaginary line can make or break you.

You know, I've always had an ugly disposition toward boundaries. I spent the last few years dealing with drastic changes and consequently, I felt I could handle absolutely anything. I learned to protect my heart and keep others- particularly men- at a distance. So why did one person, one completely unavailable man, seamlessly pry that door open when I didn't even see him pick the lock? It started by a simple "Hey, it's been a long time. How's life?" and has become something more but still should be nothing at all. It's my "what might have been" and I've eluded to it on a few occasions.

When I was 19, I met a guy stationed at Ft. Knox. He had brilliant eyes, a quick wit, infectious laugh, and obnoxious love of screaming-heavy metal rock. We spent hours talking about everything and nothing. I remember laying on his bed watching him hang his uniforms, thinking one day this would end and his life would resume some eight hours away. It was too much at that age... we were both just kids. I wasn't fond of anything military and didn't know how we fit. I walked away without so much as a goodbye. It was easier this way, I would tell myself because were just passing time with each other. He called my house on several occasions (even crying to my dad at 2 am so I've learned) but I just couldn't speak to him. I needed a clean break. His life was already planned out and I would be the one left standing alone. It seemed CMT played the Little Texas video for "What Might Have Been" on a loop. In it, the beautiful woman has one last dance with her military man before he leaves. It made cry every time. One day, I called the barracks only to learn he was gone.

I thought about him off and on over the years, hoping life was everything he wanted and happiness was shining brightly on him. Then technology struck and some 15 years later, we were exchanging pleasantries. In the middle of our first chat, he made my heart stop. Mid-conversation he says he's always wondered what would've happened if he'd just stayed in and took me with him where ever the army sent us. Then he went on typing other nonsense. Waaaaait, hold up..... explain that, I said. As he did, my heart dropped. All I had to do was ask him to stay he tells me later. When he called that night, I was giddy. His voice was exactly the same and his laugh felt so familar. We talked for hours and repeated that over the next several nights. It was an awakening. We had years to catch up on, his newer family, his life, my life. We hung up one night and I felt like HE was the MAN I've been missing. He was all man, no game-guy about him. His primary career (military is his second), his outlook, his planning, all man. And surprisingly, we still clicked, we still laughed, we finished sentences... but there could be no "we." Things were strained in his personal life and this was the worst time to bomb it with an ex-girlfriend. As the weeks passed, he prepared for deployment at a base away from home and our friendship grew. I felt like a teenager again, he felt alive.

Then he left. The day was circled on my calendar. I knew his family hugged and kissed him goodbye that day with strong hearts and heavy smiles. I quietly worked that night praying God would keep him safe. I wondered why he was in my life at that moment. Was this the closure we needed? It sure didn't feel like closure. Was something bad about to happen? Is this just a reminder of opportunities lost? Was this it? Then my phone rang. Running out of a patient room, I fumbled to answer it. It felt as if THAT moment was IT. He was at an air force base preparing to depart. Tears filled my eyes. I just knew I had to let him go. He asked if I was okay, I whispered yes. I was so relieved to hear his voice one more time, I knew I couldn't do it. It was bittersweet. I was so incredibly proud of someone I couldn't talk about. I was proud of the man he's become. I was proud to be his friend. I wanted to take back my choices from years ago. I wanted this life now, I've changed my mind. Don't throw it in my face now. He filled my void and I filled one for him as well. We hung up that night and I had never been more sure of anything in my life.

Days turn to weeks, weeks turn to months, waiting for an email, a quick long distance call, video chats muffled by helicopter sounds and long-range gunfire... Well, that puts things in perspective. Life goes on. Feelings may not change, but a clearer reality does. I'm not the only one that prays for him, that believes in him. I accept that. I've learned that his friendship, no matter how late, is important to me. I risk nothing but my heart, he risks it all by just being my friend. He's been specifically warned against it. If he walked away tomorrow, I would understand. I've learned that, at a minimum, I still have the ability to love someone- something I thought my EX stripped from me on our roller coaster. Drawing and maintaining that line has been quite difficult. We tiptoe up to it on occasion and it hurts to know he and I will always be just friends. But it lightens my heart to know I am still capable of true and genuine feelings, that he will always love me too "wherever this life takes us," and that for whatever reason, our ending wasn't determined in those concrete block barracks.

With that said, emotional bonds can be far more difficult than a physical encounter. These days, it's so easy to connect with your past, to discreetly bond, to fill specific holes. It's so incredibly easy to be swept into the intoxicating world of what-ifs and could-be. But as time passes, reality stomps that delicate line only to darken it. Feelings remain, but living in the world of "what if" is a huge gamble that may consume the right now. It may well spotlight connection problems in another's personal life and force them to evaluate what they have. That look may provide a chance to repair problems before it's too late, as I think will be the case with my friend. His happiness is most important to me and he owes it to his family to at least try to get back to the good life. This can't exactly be achieved when staying in consistent contact with an old friend. But how do you just ignore what has been there for years? My friend and I have no future, and yet no end. Funny how life is, right back to where we were so many years ago but the stakes are dramatically higher. Another tough lesson (but he's worth it and so is his family) and that's sometimes when you truly care about someone and want them to make unbiased choices, you learn to let them go. It's not goodbye... but "for now." Love stinks.

Game Over? Wait, did hell freeze over?

I love technology. I love that I can keep up with friends through social networking sites. I can shoot someone a text message or plan a day without ever talking. I can go online and change a dental appointment, pay a bill, change my cable services, watch a movie, the list goes on! What I didn't expect was the "snooper/stalker" aspect of this wonderful technology. Let's refer to this as "Secret Agent" it sounds MUCH nicer since I'm the one peaking.... and makes it more acceptable in the wild depths of my mind.

You may remember my tall, handsome player. He has been a troublesome spot. Why is that?? Because I LET him be, because I listened when he "really wanted to change his life, he really wanted to be THAT person, he wanted me to understand." And then after a few weeks, he was gone again. SURPRISE!! Yeah, well he is permanently affixed in the "Guy category" so I just *thought* he wanted to be that MAN. So I, annoyed again, left a voice mail informing him I was done.. for good. And that was that. He'd text on occasion throughout the holidays... I ignored. Fight the power girl! Behind those dark eyes is a guy that only knows one thing- THE DAMN GAME. He called- I sent it to voicemail... then played his message until it was permanently embedded. Oh girl, FIGHT THE POWER. Seriously, get a grip.

After a bit, curiosity killed me. What could he possibly say this time to hook me? So I called. Hmmm... voicemail. I waited a day then sent one of his signature "Hey" texts. Hmmm, no response. Crap! Now HE has the upper hand... it was mine and I gave it away!! WHY did I respond?? Nosey girl got to thinking... On a whim, I typed his name onto a friend site and guess what- there he was. Oh time to investigate, donning imaginary sunglasses and trench coat, it looked as if he started out rounding up his girls.... almost all girls. A little flirty comment here, a little thumbs up there. Interesting, he knows I'm on this site... maybe he didn't want me to see his play-by-play. Playa really needs to make his page private! Wait, what's this? Well that statement is out of character, hmmm. The secret agent session just shocked me. First, he was more of a man-whore than I ever realized and second and the most stunning, he is now in love. Honestly, for real in love.. something he's never been in his life. I know his game inside and out and his recent posts are so far out of bounds, that it must be love. I wanted to puke. It made me crazy for a moment. It made me obsess on why he was contacting me if he already had someone. I wanted to call him up and yell for trying to drag me back into his game.. a game in which he quit, at least for the moment.

Then I realized something.... he met her while I pondered my next move or if I was even going to make one. I had just assumed he would always be there. I've known in the past that there have been others between our like/hate relationship, but now here is PROOF... and the newest has a face. Snooping has actually been good for me. I realize now it's something I couldn't help him feel. He needs to know what love is, how love can hurt, how love can be so incredibly exhilarating. He needs to know what it feels like to love someone and how to treat them with sincere, honest feelings. It will make him a better person. It will open his eyes to a world I couldn't show him. I hope she breaks his heart. Hey, I am still human. =)

Woman Puhlease!

It's a snowy day on my patch of the world. It's not overly burdensome- from a few to several inches depending which direction you drive. While working through the night, I watched the snow start, climax, and flurry off. As dayshift nurses arrived, I heard a repeating theme- "my husband/dad/brother had to bring me because the roads were so bad." Ummm, why can't we get our own petutties through the snow? I pondered this as I hightailed it home at a riproaring 35 miles per hour. I mean, I once spent time convincing EX to chauffeur me and yet, I was the better driver. Did I not want to be alone, did I feel more protected, did I just not want the blame if I wrecked MY car??? Alas, being single again forces you to get over it real quick and offers a private chuckle to past driving miss Daisy moments.

To help snub the fear, here's a short list of events one may do that is much more daring than wheelin' through the white stuff.

If you can tweeze your eyebrows, you can drive in snow.
If you can birth a baby, you can drive in snow.
If you can dance in high heels, you can drive in snow.
If you can trim your dog's nails, you can drive in snow.
If you can balance your checkbook, you can drive in snow.
If you can unclog an overused toilet, you can drive in snow.
If you can handle sand in your swimsuit, you can drive in snow.
If you can deal with being waxed, you can drive in snow.
If you can pull out splinters, you can drive in the snow.
If you can take care of everyone else when you're damn near your death bed, you can drive in snow.
If you can bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan, you can drive in snow!!!

Ooookay, you get my "drift." Don't be so nervous. So what if you spin a little... it's kind of fun to "let loose." You, woman, can do anything so gas it up and go!