These are not just words

I wish I could tell you the truth. The cold, steel truth. (Do I?) I lie with my head on your small shoulder, the scent of your hair all over my face, and I listen to you talk of your day. I nod my head, I murmur teeny responses, let you know I'm really listening. And I hear it, every time: the heartbreak at the end of your sentences. The rise and fall in your voice--you lull me--and I am almost lost each time, until the end. Then I hear the crash, the pause in your speech, the question finally formed behind your full lips. 
Why? Why? 
And honey, if I told you the truth, I would ruin it for you. Ruin the dream you have in your sweet-scented head. Dreams of true love and blue skies and first kisses and long touches and hope. Ah, I was you, back then. And it was ruined for me.
 So.
I cannot ruin it for you. I cannot bear the weight of your broken heart, your heavy hopelessness, if I tell you the truth.... that LOVE isn't always enough, that HOPE is sometimes a hopeless word, that FAITH is unbelievable, that WORDS, these things I have always hung so much on, sometimes don't have the strength to carry it all. 
NO. 
Instead, I nod my head, return your full-face smiles, kiss your perky little nose, and let you take me by the hand--lead me down your path of full-moon sunshine. I will follow you anywhere, my lips smothering the bitter in my vocabulary. 

Lost

I have lost my mojo, my need to write, my voice, my desire to exercise, my oomph to better myself, my sass to flirt and open myself up to something wonderful with a man. I don't want to read, or write, or watch TV, or hang out with friends, or grab a coffee or beer and people watch. I love these things. Yet all I want to do is sleep.

I have lost me.

I know the signs. I know what to do, and I did it today. I know it will help, but I can't get past all the negativity floating around in my life right now. I can't get away from my negative bank account, or my past due bills, or the things I need to buy for my girl (who starts 1st grade next week, oh.my.wow.), or the sadness that old friends have fallen off the radar, or the bullshit with the ex, or my loneliness. I can't hide from my anger or my bitterness, that spills over at the most uncomfortable times.

Oh, but I try. I push down the anger and bitterness, and send it back to the deep recesses of my gut. When my melancholy and 'What could have been' get out of control, I turn my back on it.

My loneliness? It never leaves. It strangles and hangs on my body, like an extra limb I didn't know I had, and will probably never grow comfortable with.

All day I work at being positive and hopeful and joyful. And it works. For everyone else. And I will say that a bit of that hope is alive within me; it won't ever leave. As long as I have my girl, I will have hope.

But this act? This gig? It is exhausting.

So I sleep: Instead of walking the dog and exercising, I curl up in a ball and cuddle with my girl, breathing in the scent of her gorgeous hair, until she drifts off. Then I match her breathing, and drift off on my own, where I'm at the mercy of my dreams.

And my dreams? They are cruel and merciless and breathtaking and satisfying and telling. My mind and heart are battling, yet I can't figure out if they are battling one another or battling something else as a team.

I don't wake feeling rested. I wake up out of breath, with heartache the size of so many broken things.

So I pray.

Yet, I have lost my ability to pray. I am down to two simple, yet powerful words:

Please, God.

I am waiting for them to work.

Pain

I have some things I need to say, that I must get off my chest. And I already know, without a doubt, that saying them here, or saying them over the phone, or texting them, will not be enough. I won't sleep better, I won't feel the dead weight lifted off my heart, I won't walk lighter. Nothing will change. At all.
But if I don't say these things, thrust them out of the neverending swirl in my head, I will surely break. I teeter, even when I am perfectly balanced.

-I blame you for all of this hurt. I don't want to accept any fault, any responsibility, for the broken mess that we became. I seeth with a fury I thought was long-forgotten when our girl cries about missing one of us when she's with the other one of us. I want you to ache, to yearn, to grieve, to teeter, just like she does, just like I do. I want your head to be overflowing at night with the possibilities of the future, with the stresses of tomorrow, with the sorrow of today.
-While I say all of this, I feel guilty. Guilty that I don't want to forgive. Guilty that I still love. Guilty that I can't let the anger go yet. I want to take the high road, be a good example for our girl, show her that strength and hope and love do indeed outweigh all of the brutality of broken promises and divorce.

-I don't know what happened to some of the close friendships I had. I don't know why you and you and you all dropped out of my life...when I most needed someone to stand by me, support me, love me. I don't know what I did, or didn't do, to cause you to disappear during some of the darkest time in my life. I expected to lose friends that we had as a married couple, people I never felt sincerely liked me anyway, but I never expected you.

-I don't want to be played. I am too old for this. I don't want to wonder what you are doing, who you are really with, whether you are really interested or not. I don't want to play guessing games or 'let's pretend we don't really care' games. I trusted you as a friend. I opened up to you. I pushed through my anxiety about crossing that line from friendship to more, and this is what I got. It sounds ridiculously corny to say that I need you to be careful with my heart, but it is true. And sadly, I think I misjudged your intentions. I don't think you even wanted to get near my heart. Being friends is all we should do.

****
I do not feel better. I still feel full of all the wrong things, yet empty. I need to close my eyes and drift away.

While I was gone

It finally happened: I've fallen off the edge of the blogging world. I have dozens of drafts. My journal is full, and a new one is halfway there, with an unopened one waiting on the nightstand. I have dreamt things, seen things, felt things, yet I haven't shared them. I didn't mean to be gone so long.

While I was gone, so much changed.

My girl learned to read. Like, full sentences and chapter books, damn it.

My girl lost 3 teeth (with another to be pulled today because she totally looks like Nanny McPhee, and while she is super cute, and while I'm all for letting a kid be a kid, I cannot bear her Kindergarten graduation pictures to look like this:)

My Daisy dog got older and sicker and slower. But I took her to the vet, she was put on what I call doggy hospice, and she is doing better, even keeping food down!

I traded in my Jeep (wahhhhh!) and bought myself a red truck. Yes, I live in Texas. Yes, I might be a little bit country. I love my truck! It's fast and pretty and clean and fast and new and red and did I mention FAST?

I went a little crazy with the shopping. I bought 4 pairs of shoes, 7 dresses, unknown amounts of jewelry, and a TV. Yes, a TV.

I forgot how to cook. I stopped cooking in early March. I have no idea why. I think it was the time factor, but I also started focusing on other things. So today, I am cooking dinner.

I started looking at houses, to buy. I'm still a little shocked that I'm planning on buying a house....a house that I will pick, that will be just my style.

Oh, and I got divorced. Sigh. That's another post all together. Yet there really are no words.
There are tears, sighs, lost time staring into space. But there are smiles, feelings of peace, laughs.

Yet, after all this time, I still cannot believe it. While I was gone, I changed.

Heavily worn

I've discussed this guilt thing here, this emotion that takes over my soul at times, has become another organ inside my body, like my heart or my lungs, but so much less necessary. And as I type this, I know I'm kidding no one when I say "at times".

My memory reaches far back into my childhood, and even back then, there's the tiniest whisper of guilt in some of my earliest memories. It walked with me to school, sharing my footsteps. It spooned with me in bed at night, stealing the covers and making me sweat.

When I felt jealousy towards my foster siblings? Guilt was right there, strangling.
When I felt overwhelmed and confused by my mother's strokes? Guilt held my hand.
Joy at my brother's 2 year old face lighting up when I came home from school? Guilt pinched the soft inside of my arm.
Rage towards my father for so many things? Guilt coursed through these veins.
Even in sleep, where unrealized desires and unspoken words prevail, guilt hung like a fog around my face.

Now:

Guilt for not being strong enough to give total forgiveness.
Guilt at not being able to force myself to learn to love-again- someone who broke me. Guilt at the rage I feel towards him for this.
Guilt for blaming him.
Guilt when I ease into bed next to my girl, watching her chest rise and fall, knowing I haven't done the best job.
Guilt that I'm breaking her, unwittingly, with my actions now.
Guilt when I hate life, even if for a few minutes.
Guilt at being frustrated with those that are trying to help.
Guilt when I find some joy in my days, selfish or not.
Guilt when I cry, when I ache, when I sleep in to avoid all of this.
Guilt when I wake up in the middle of the night, and for one split second, think I'm back in our first house, where things were fresh and frustrating but mixed with love and hope. Guilt that I can't bring that back, that I can't fix what I didn't break.
Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

Learning to let go is hard. Learning to say goodbye to someone who has been gone from my life for awhile is painful. Moving on and finding happiness outside of the one person I thought I would be with until my dying day? Unbelievably rough.

And this guilt, this itchy wool coat a few sizes too small, makes it almost impossible to breathe another day.

Unwanted absence

Well hello there. Yes, yes, I am still alive. I haven't forgotten about any of you, and I really do miss you guys. I miss reading your blogs, I miss tweeting w/ you, I miss your comments here, I miss sharing a chunk of my heart with you here, pouring it out, letting it take it's own shape as it settles. I miss writing, like I miss my old man dog. It's always in the back of my head, always this ache in my soul, that I'm wasting valuable time, wasting these thoughts and words, when I should be writing them down, keeping them close.
My semester was full of so many experiences, things I never thought I would face. I love my internship-I feel so comfortable there, and am thankful I get to be there this summer too. I don't even want to think about having to leave there in August. My classes have been challenging, yet I have loved the challenge. My independent study...well, I sorta dropped the ball on that one, but still ended up with an A.
I'm embarking on uncharted territory, for me anyway. I am in a new place in my life, one that feels worn in, beat down, but somewhat familiar. I have so much going on in my head, stifling my words, my writing.
So I fill my head with music, that other thing that is so much me. My ipod is overflowing, and I just keep adding more and more and more......music has always been such a large part of my life, and I intend to keep it that way. It's getting me through this time, along with wonderful friends and the most amazing mother I could ever ask for.

There is no easy way to explain my absence, my mood, my lack of BEING THERE for wonderful people here online. I don't want to drop out of people's lives; I was not made to be a loner. But it's exactly what I've done, and for that I am sad.  There are many of you going through things right now that I haven't been able to support you in, and I am sorry. Please know I am thinking of you, praying for you, and loving you from afar.

I WILL be back here. I hope you will too.

WTFH?*

I may have driven about 200 miles on Wednesday. I had to drive to a vendor's office to pick up some paperwork, drive 40 miles further to a courthouse to release a lien, and then drive to a contractor's office that was approximately 5 minutes from the vendor's office. So annoying.
Then to lunch w/ my sister, who decided we were going to speed date. She asked random questions, told me I was "interesting", and asked me out on a second date. Then we sang the theme song to Phineas & Ferb. I don't know.

She was killing me softly. Until she started talking to two men about 8 feet away from us. They didn't even know she was talking to them, but she totally was.

She was telling them about our mom, trying to hook them up w/ her. I was cracking up, and not quietly, so we had.to.go.right.fucking.now before I embarrassed myself.

Then we drove around to complete 7000 more errands. Then! When I was already so very done w/ driving, I had to drive back to the store to pick up something I had forgotten for my Thanksgiving cooking catastrophe (my mom put a cookie sheet in the oven, and it turned blue. No, really. Like, it was so hot it melted the potholder & my husband had to throw it out in the yard. Why? I don't know. Seemed logical at the time.)
Then! After I was really done w/ all the driving around, I had to drive to two separate Redboxs to pick up Four Christmases (freaking hilarious) and My Sister's Keeper (haven't watched it yet, but the book was fanfuckingtastic, so I'm hopeful). The 2nd Redbox was at a Walmart about 5 minutes from my house. I dragged my sister w/ me.
As soon as we walked in, people started looking at us. I asked her if I had something on my face, and she kept touching her hair. We tried to ignore it at first, but it was just creepy. I'm not talking random turn-of-the-head looks, I'm talking full-on full body turn & creepy mean stares. A teen kept following us, giving my sister looks. He would duck behind shelves and clothing racks if we turned to look at him. Creeeeepy.
And then we went to the beer aisle and there was this lone guy standing in front of the beer cooler, just staring. Like 2 feet from it. No basket, no beer in hand, no nothing. Just standing there and staring. And of course, I needed the beer he was standing in front of. He didn't even move when I said excuse me and grabbed a case in front of him. My arm actually brushed up against his and he didn't move an inch.
Then there was the drunk fucker growling at his kid in the cracker aisle (no pun intended). Bloodshot eyes, slurring his words, onery. Then there were the seemingly street bums, complete w/ long beards, dirty clothes and mismatched boots. I was so confused.
Then came the girl who may or may not have been a stripper. She was wearing little black shorts (as teeny as boyshorts undies), black kneehigh boots, and a little black top. Spikey hair, tatoos. She was actually rather attractive, but WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN WALMART DRESSED LIKE THAT??
The turning to stare at us continued, so we high-tailed it out of there. We actually ran to the car. It was just odd.
My sister is still saying she feels violated.
And the cookie sheet is still lying in the grass. Blue.


*WTFH: What the fresh hell. Yeah, that's my lame attempt at not cussing so much. I caught my kid telling the dog to shut the hell up yesterday. And then I heard her tell her doll she was sick of her shit. Yeah, I know she doesn't read my blog, but I'm trying, okay???

A wrong turn down a miserable path

"My senior year, I was so ready to be done with high school and all of the bullshit. There were boys I had serious crushes on, but nothing ever happened. I didn't know how to assert myself, how to let them know I really did like them. By this time, my reputation was a disgusting, mangled mess of lies, and I just didn't care anymore.I had a dear friend who always attempted to make me feel better. She had been friends with me since most of these high school dramas described above. She knew how I hurt. She wanted to see me happy.She started trying to get me to assert myself. And honestly, I don't remember what she said, did, or suggested, but slowly, I started to feel assertive.
My first attempt at being STRONG and ASSERTIVE and FORWARD with a guy was horribly successful. I actually grabbed a guy's ass (in his tight Wranglers) and told him I liked it.
Within a few weeks, we were together non-stop.
Within a month, we were a couple.

I asserted myself with the wrong person. I asserted myself with a dangerous, careless asshole, who had no idea about the history I carried within myself.
I asserted myself with a person who cheated on me, berated me, humiliated me, hurt me, hit me.
I made the wrong decision.
It didn't last."
(You can find this excerpt in the entire post, here)
........

He was 2 years younger than me. He was cute, sorta. Lanky, blonde, blue eyed, bad-boy type. Catholic. By the time I learned that he had some issues with drugs and alcohol, it was too late: my heartstrings were all tangled in his fists. One of the first days we hung out after school, he was drunk. It didn't really bother me, it was just a bit disconcerting. We went to the house of a friend of his, and there were lots of people I didn't know, younger than me, and all fucked up. I realized I was with the "wrong crowd", but I didn't care.
He got so loaded that day, and he drove me home. He passed out at the wheel & drove into a ditch. I had to climb out of the passenger window, walk around & push him out of the driver's seat, and get us out of the ditch.
I was supposed to pick my brother up from school. I didn't make it. He walked home.
He snored as I drove to his house, with the tires & steering column shaking violently. He didn't wake up when I pulled into his driveway. I left him there, got my car, and went home.
He called that night, acting as though nothing happened. I went along with it.

He was with me a few hours after I found out my parents had split up. He took me out to get drunk. On a school night. I vaguely remember throwing beer bottles at speed limit signs as he drove around the "backroads" between my house and his.

I won't blame him for the amount of alcohol I drank that year. I probably would have done it anyway. But it was an unhappy drunk, an unhappy time, and honestly, he made me happy, for a brief period. When I wasn't happy, it was too late (the whole heartstrings thing).

He walked me to class, took me out on the weekends, hung out with me at my house during the week. He took me to pick my brother up from school when my car was in the shop. We hung out with his friends; very rarely mine. I met some people through him that were normal, sane, not part of the "wrong crowd", and I'm thankful for those people; they ended up getting me through the bullshit he put me through later.

My parents hated him. My mother told him he was an asshole, and my dad pretty much ignored him. I continued to spend every waking hour with him, and spent many nights sleeping on the floor next to his bed, avoiding home.

He was the person who convinced me to use drugs for the first time. I'll never forget it.

I started lying to my father about where I was staying, whose house I was sleeping over at, just so I could party with him and his friends. I relished his attention, and I liked the ease with which all of his friends just seemed so superficial and easy-going. No heartaches, no stress, no separated parents, no responsibilities.

I arrived at a party one night after work. Most everyone was wasted by the time I arrived. One of his older brother's friends started picking on me, trying to draw me out, I guess. Instead of defending me, my boyfriend joined in. Within minutes, this older guy had pinned me up against the wall in the garage, cussing and spitting in my face. I was scared, but kneed him in the crotch. When he let go, my boyfriend and his brother took over, "playfully" grabbing me & threatening me. When they both slammed me so hard that I saw stars, I think my boyfriend woke up and told his brother to back off.

I had handmarked-bruises on both arms and shoulders for the next week. I avoided his calls.

He apologized; I went back to him.

Rinse and repeat. Alcohol. Anger. Sarcasm. One night of a threat with a gun & being pinned against his car, and I was done. Done, done.

I avoided his calls. I berated myself for getting involved with him in the first place, for being assertive towards him, of all people. Why not the guy I had a crush on since 5th grade, that I never told? Why not the nice football player who let me sit with him at lunch, who I had meaningful, intelligent conversations with in English? Why not any motherfucker other than this guy?

We went camping in the deserts of Carlsbad, New Mexico over Spring Break. My father actually let me go. It was a whole group of us, along with the father of his best friend. There were a couple of people in the group that I really enjoyed being around, that I felt safe with. Yes, I went.

The first night, he slept with my then-best friend, a girl in his grade. They shared the same birthday. We all shared a tent together. Everyone was drunk, on drugs (except me). I barely drank. I climbed into the tent, tired and dirty. He was on top of her. She saw me, pushed him off, and said my name.
I slept in a friend's truck that night. She banged on the window, but I wouldn't look at her, wouldn't unlock the door.
The rest of the trip was a blur. Alcohol, shooting guns in a dried-up riverbed, people falling into campfires, someone flipping the 4-wheeler with both of us on it-the breath being knocked out of me, both of them trying to make it up to me.
I got angry & yelled at him while we were climbing into some caves. He pushed me down.

Somehow, I went to prom with him. It was a disaster. By then, my friends were gone, pretty much. The sweet one that had helped me assert myself-she had left school by then to have her baby. I was so lonely. I continued to hang out with all of them. He convinced me to leave prom after dinner. No dancing, no visiting with friends, no nothing. I wasted the time on my hair, the money on my dress, the love in my heart for this.

The hotel that was supposedly "all taken care of" fell apart. We ended up at one of his friends' houses, where his childhood friend (a girl) proceeded to try to pick a physical fight with me. He walked away, going to the bathroom to drop some acid. He passed out on a bed, but not before he called his childhood friend into the room, pulling on his belt buckle. I drove home.

The week after prom, random people started telling me about the girls he was talking to when I wasn't on campus. His own sister told me he was sleeping with one of her friends. My then-best friend called me to apologize about Spring Break, and begged to "make it up to me".

The night of graduation, she showed up at the ceremony with him. I have pictures of the three of us standing there together, and now I look into my young face and am dumbfounded that I allowed myself to be treated so badly.

I went to Project Graduation, and she "made it up to me" by going with me. By the time that was over, he was drunk & passed out in his own vomit in a friend's backyard. I stuck a note in his pocket, telling him it was over.

I avoided his calls. I got tested for STDs.

It ended badly. I was a sobbing mess. I begged, pleaded, ranted, screamed. I was so angry at him, for cheating on me, for making me look like a fool, for dragging me down a road I didn't want to go down. I didn't recognize myself anymore. I wanted him gone, but I cried when he told me he was done with me.

I didn't return his last phone call.

Changes are acoming

Change is difficult. It is frustrating, scary, and sometimes exhilarating, depending on the circumstances. I consider myself a flexible, 'go with the flow' type of girl, for the most part. Of course, I like some of my life to be routine (like the 4 year old's bedtime, for instance, or my showers), but I usually welcome change. It means, to me, that there's another layer to life, that the twists and turns are making me a bit more complex and human.



I've got some good changes going on, that I want to share:

1.I'm starting my 2nd year of grad school in 2 weeks. Am excited, but give me a few weeks, and I'll be a ball of nerves again. Am getting worried about how this all is gonna work out (see below), and worry that I won't get this done in the 3 years alloted to me.

2.We bought an elliptical machine, and I am SO getting my ass on it for an hour, 5 days a week, for the next 30 days, and I'm going to keep track of my measurements. I will post later this week, maybe. Hmmmm. Of course, we will have to figure out how to get the damn thing in the house, since hubby hurt his back trying to do it himself.

3.We are in the process of adopting a dog. My Daisy can't go on this way for much longer. She is so very down and lonely, and also? We miss having 2 dogs in our lives too. My girl still cries for my Kooter dog, and I still ache for him at random times (like when I watch sad movies and bust out crying-he always consoled me). I will most definitely be one of those ladies when I get older-the one with 7 dogs-and I will be in absolute bliss. The adoption process is pretty annoying; I think it might be a tad easier to adopt a baby, but we are going through the motions, and I hope, hope, *HOPE* to have good news soon. A couple of you have seen the pictures of the specific doggie we are gunning for. I am trying to keep that information off of here until it's official, for the simple fact that I feel like I will jinx myself if I tell you his name and let you see his sweet face. But for now, let me just say that when I read his profile, I started to choke up, and his eyes made me think of my Kooter dog, and I just knew he was the one I wanted to bring home. So. We will see.

4.This last one, I'm flipping out a little bit. I mean, seriously. My stress level has gone up about 5000% percent, and I've thought a lot about whether I really want to post about it or not. Not because I don't want to share with you, but because I'm feeling a little superstitious and I really don't want to jinx anything, or upset anyone.

We all know the economy is batshit crazy right now. My hubby owns his own company, and it's in the construction industry. Things have slowed down. He's laid people off. We've downsized as much as we can, and he is considering moving the office/shop to another cheaper building. The stress of waiting for the phone to ring, with someone on the other end telling him he was awarded another job...it's brutal. The waiting really is the worst part, isn't it?

Anyway, I'm not sure how much worse it's gonna get. But at this very moment, it is bad enough that I am looking for another job, one that will HOPEFULLY provide benefits, and give us some stable income. Not sure how this is going to impact my school schedule, or my 2nd internship that I should be doing in the Spring, or my time with my girl, or my time to see friends, or my time to read, write, blog....I have no f-ing idea what is going to happen right now, and for once, I am really nervous. I think part of the panic is because the media really gives us both ends of the spectrum in terms of the economy (it's 'gonna get worse' or 'it's hit the up-turn'), and normally I try to ignore the back and forth shit that the media feeds us...I try not to feed into the hysteria, but I gotta be honest, interwebs, I am freaking the fuck out over here.

My hubby has put in 4 and a half years of hard-ass work...long ass hours, nights where he didn't come home at all...my girl spent a ton of fucking time without her Daddy, because he was busting his ass to make this work. I spent a large portion of my pregnancy alone, in the middle of 23 fucking acres. I spent a large portion of my girl's newborn months alone, because he was busting his ass. And he has been so damn successful; I am incredibly proud of him. He is such a hard worker, he is so amazingly smart when it comes to being successful. And although all the time away from us has sucked, it was worth it. Which is why I am freaking the fuck out right now. I don't want all that to be wasted. I don't want him to have to compromise his work, his ethic, his success, to make ends meet. Also? I see the stress in his face, and I hate it for him. I worry about him so much....I wake up in the middle of the night to find him wide awake. My husband, the one that falls asleep anywhere, even behind the wheel. I'm trying to be easy going, happy go lucky, laid back, for his sake, but omg, people, I'm freaking out. I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a mirror and I think "Holy shit-I don't look like someone who has her shit together right now". And I guess I don't.

My final fear associated with all of this, and really at the bottom of the list, is my depression. I haven't yet talked about that here, not really. But it runs in my family, and quite simply, I've been struggling on and off with it since I gave birth 4 years ago. I find myself being irritated, short-fused, annoyed, tired, achy, hopeless, etc. more often lately, and I don't know if it is all just associated with the stress of my life right now, or if it's the depression creeping back in. Sorta hard to sort out. Plus, I'm so tired, who even has the patience or energy to TRY to sort it out?!

I'm in deep over here. I don't like to write woe-is-me posts. I don't like to whine or complain when I know things could be much much worse. I don't like people to think I'm looking for sympathy. I also don't know how to end posts like this, so...yeah.

Two open letters to two separate people about two different things

[Begin rant]

Dear I-know -what- you -did -that- drunken -night- several- years -ago:

We aren't really that close. In fact, I haven't talked to you on the phone in a good two years, nor have we hung out or even seen one another. You have a child now, that just turned one, that I've never met. You've seen my girl twice, and she's 4. So, are we really friends? Probably not.

That being said, we had some good times together. Remember the time I drove home tipsy from the bar and backed into that parked car? How about the time we went drinking downtown, and some girl passed out, fell, and cracked her head on the steps of a club, and I bent over to help her, and you called me a 'heroooooo'? What about all the times I had to basically carry you to your car, over served, and we giggled the whole way home? How about the time we made out?

Oh. Wait.

Did I just say that out loud?

Oh, yes, YES I DID.

See, here's my issue: I saw your Facebook page. I saw the funny ha-ha jokes about girls who make out with other girls, about lesbians, your comments about how disgusting that is....
Yet...
Yeah, you want to forget that night happened, don't you? As I recall, the next day, hungover and pale, you came over to 'talk' with me, saying you didn't know what came over you, that it would never happen again, that you were hammered. But it did. More than once.
That's totally fine. I don't see what the big deal is anyway.
But to totally act like it's disgusting and 'gross in a gross way'? Seriously?

Out of all of it, I think I can't be your friend because you aren't honest with yourself OR others.

Sincerely,
The girl you kissed

*********

Dear Sweet woman who has gone through an awful loss-

I met you online, via blogging, just like I have so many other wonderful women. Your story moved me. Your past saddened me, but out of the wreckage, it seemed, had come this wonderfully strong woman who was doing her best at being a good mother. We commented on one another's posts, emailed back and forth, and at some point, exchanged phone numbers. You had no problem giving me your cell phone number.
We never talked on the phone, although I'm not sure why.
I sent you a birthday card. You had no problem giving me your home address.

You found out you were pregnant, and I 'squeeeeeee'-ed about it constantly. I started thinking about the sweet little things I would buy on Etsy for your sweet baby, although I knew I probably wouldn't meet you or your children for awhile, since you live a couple of states away.

You found out your child would not live long once out of your womb, and I was heart stricken. I emailed you, commented on your painful posts, prayed, prayed, prayed. You shared a lot on your blog about this pregnancy, about your pain, your worry, your anger. You shared a lot. You had tons of new followers, people who had heard about you, and were now following your story.

I prayed nightly for a woman I didn't know. I prayed for peace for your family, for a miracle for your unborn child. When I couldn't sleep, I thought about your and your family.
You included me in your personal emails to your friends and family; you emailed me. I thought this meant you considered me a friend? I am not sure how else I could have shown you that I could be a friend, an IRL friend, not just someone online, faceless and hidden.

The night before you were to give birth, you sent another email out to all of your friends and family, and again included me.

The day you were to give birth, I woke up early to pray. I called a very close friend of mine, and asked him to pray for you and your family. I went to class, but was distracted, wondering about you, if you were okay, if your baby had been born. You said you may update your blog the day of the birth, so I checked a couple of times throughout the day. I prayed.

That night, feeling worried for you, I hit "reply all" to your family & friends email, two short sentences asking if anyone had heard from you, if you were okay; I was worried. I did not ask about the baby. I didn't not ask for details. I was simply worried about you; how were you holding up?

Two people replied rather quickly, telling me more than I asked for. I thanked them both for letting me know that you were as okay as you could possibly be in this situation.

A few days later, you texted me, telling me you were upset with me for contacting your friends and family. I apologized, although, I must admit, I was confused. You were angry, obviously, angry that I had 'intruded'. You felt that I was forcing you to talk about something you weren't ready to talk about-the birth. I explained that I was sincerely just worried about my friend, YOU, and had not even asked about the baby. I wasn't your friend for the sake of the drama. I was your friend because that's what I do.

Later that day, you posted, and I commented. Immediately, you emailed me, asking me to stay away from your blog, to not comment any longer, that you are a private person and didn't feel comfortable with my intrusion, although you "knew" I was just trying to be nice.

Can I say that it really hurt my feelings? Can I say that I sat there in front of my laptop for awhile, typing reply after reply that I deleted? Can I say that I emailed your email to a couple of very close friends, asking them for feedback? Was I overbearing, inappropriate, intruding?

I chalked it up to your grief. I felt that it wasn't really fair to me for you to do this, but I totally understood that you were going through something no one should have to go through. I prayed about it, I found patience in spite of my hurt feelings.

I gave you your space. I never replied to your email.

I continued to pray for you.

My feelings stopped being hurt after awhile.

I went to your blog a couple of weeks ago, because I had dreamt of you. You were on my mind. So I went to your blog. I won't bother to tell you what I read; it doesn't even matter anymore.
But what upset me was this: you made mention of deciding that there were people you didn't want in your life. And I had a feeling you might mean me, since it's been several months since we've had any contact. And?

It pissed me right off.

I'm still pissed. I take offense to you honestly feeling that I was intruding by trying to see if you were okay. I take offense that you say you are a private person, that you felt uncomfortable with my concern. How can you honestly say that to me? Do I look dumb? Do I look like someone who will fall for that bullshit line? You have a blog; you can't possibly be that private. You shared intimate feelings and experiences on your blog; not to a few readers, but to several dozen. You included me in your private emails to your family and friends, yet told me more than once that you didn't even know me; that I didn't even know you. And even after you told me you wanted space, you obviously continued to share your very private story online.

Honestly, I am happy that you have such good readership; it means that there are many who are praying for you, hoping good things for you.But I just don't get it. I just don't get the real reasoning behind being rude and hurtful towards me, and basically shutting me out.

At this point, I see that my time as a friend to you is over. That maybe I was only needed to pray for you during that time; there will be nothing else. And I'm fine with that; I really am.
But I simply want you to know, that if you truly believe that we didn't know one another, than you can be pretty confident in thinking that I treat my friends better than I treat my acquaintances. Because, by your line of thinking, we weren't friends, merely online acquaintances. And look how much time and effort and tears I put into you, this acquaintance.

I mean no harm to anyone that I meet and I am fiercely loyal to my friends, whether they are IRL or only online. I am sorry you thought I wasn't a friend; I guess I was mistaken. However, I am not sorry that I tried to be your friend, although I learned a valuable lesson in this, and am now only putting my heart, my time, my loyalty in friendships where the feeling is obviously mutual.

Good luck to you. May you find peace in your life.

Sincerely,
Someone who could have been a friend

[End rant]

Zzzzzzzzzzzz! Or The post NOT about BlogHer'09

So while everyone else was at BlogHer (mother f-er, I'm still jealous and all green with envy (be damned, you Cardinal sins you!)), I had a busy weekend. I'm still pretty worn out, although I will admit it isn't because I went to some badass parties, licked anyone's boobs, or broke a coffee table (don't ask; actually, I'm not sure I really understand myself). So...yeah.

Friday was my girl's birthday. We bought her a Nintendo DS, and omg, you would have thought we bought her a pony (on the Christmas list). She jumped up and down, said "Yessssssssssssss!" and every picture I took of her opening the present is a total blur. She moves NON-FREAKIN'-STOP, but throw in a coveted present and you can bet we won't catch her sitting still.

Anyway, then she picked her favorite burger place for dinner, and had one of her friends spend the night.

What exactly was I thinking when I agreed to a 4 year old sleepover?? Damn. Actually, they were very good. Giggly, silly, not toooooo hyper...but didn't fall asleep until well after midnight.

And? They were up at 7am, bossing me and asking me all sorts of questions. It is too early for questions, damn it.

Saturday, she went to a birthday party while I went to a baby shower. When I got back, I made her a strawberry cake with homemade strawberry cream cheese icing. Biddy made up the icing recipe all by herself at the spur of the moment (It was delish!!).
Then she (my girl, not Biddy) refused to nap before her family party. I think I may have needed the nap a tad more than she did. Anyway, then both sets of grandparents came over, along with Aunt Angel & Monkey Matt. We had pizza, cake, and presents. She got a new bike, which someone (not naming names, mother fucka) let her ride around in the house, some kick-ass, light-up Sketchers that she really wants me to let her wear now (they are 1/2 a size too big, on purpose, so she can wear them in the fall), and a boy baby that she really wanted. Oh, and Where the Wild Things Are. (She got other things, but my mind is still mush, so yeah, she got stuff).

She crashed Saturday night, and I stayed up way too late watching the movie Knowing (which flipped me out, if you saw my tweets, and then it really made me cry and think). And then I had Jack in the Box tacos at 1am. WHAT?

Sunday: the birthday party at the local city water park w/ her friends. It was overcast and not *too* hot. Lots of adorable kids came, and...my kid was a zombie. She woke up with a runny nose and circles under her eyes. She was not her usual sassy, smiley self. She didn't want anyone to sing Happy Birthday to her, so we all sang quietly (Except Jackson, adorable son of Kristie, who serenaded her so sweetly, I could have squeezed him). She didn't want to open presents; it was like I had to twist her arm. She didn't smile, she didn't want to thank anyone, she just wanted to get back in the water and avoid all the attention. Funny that my kid is like this only during her birthday. Last year and the year before, I have pictures of her looking like a damn zombie, willing me with her eyes to make everyone go away. Like this:

Sunday night she crashed at 8pm. I stayed up too late again, watching Taboo on National Geographic. I'm tired, people. I need sleep. I feel so devoid of energy lately, and this past weekend did not help at all.

Oh, and between all this stuff, I read tweets about the shenanigans at BlogHer, I drooled at pictures, I "wahhhhhhhhh!"-ed about not being there for Chris' birthday, I "grrrrr!"-ed about not getting to meet so many lovely and funny women..... And seriously, the men too!

But! BlogHer '10 is a week before I graduate! Here's hoping I can make that work!

We interrupt your normal programming...

Uh, so my computer crapped out. The hard drive is shot. Sooooo, all weekend long, I had no computer. Torture!! I couldn't check my email, do any of my assignments, email my professor, stay connected to people on Twitter, google random things (like the Wunderland murders, the health benefits to eating a grass snake (as seen on Man vs. Wild), and the mysterious symptoms my husband has been having. I also couldn't read anyone's blogs, so I am now even more behind, I fear. I am not checking my Google Reader count today. Ugh.

The pictures and documents could be recovered (Yipeeee!), but we aren't sure yet if the hard drive is going to remain stable enough to recover. Sigh. There was other IT mumbo jumbo in there, but I wasn't listening.

So, no posts until I get my computer back. Unless I get all my work and school crap done, and then I will be posting from work.

Until then.....

Oh, Texas, how I love thee (Or 'Oh, stupid narrow minded people, how I loath thee)

I got this email forwarded to me yesterday from a relative of my hubby's that will remain un-named, but whoo boy. She has always emailed me things that make me cringe and scream simultaneously, and I marvel how there are so many people out there that are just so narrow-minded, so fearful of change, so selfish. I say that I am tolerant of all different ways of thinking and doing things, but being selfish? I am not so tolerant of that.
And I continue to marvel at how, although this un-named relative knows I am a social worker, knows I am a giving and helping type of person, and has got to know by now that I am fairly liberal, she still sends me shit that is the exact opposite of those things. What the hell??

So. Since I can't keep anything to myself, I will go ahead and share with you. Please, please enjoy, and know that this is not my opinion. And although I love Texas, I do not believe in this ideology at all:

Texans are not whining about the elections. Ok, Folks. Texas has given you complainers plenty of time to get used to the election results. After listening to all the whiners after the election, some folks from Real Texas have decided that we might just take matters into our own hands.

First a little history lesson. It's our independent nature to point out the people who enjoy the Texas Lifestyle have the right to secede and form our own country once again whenever the people of Texas choose to do so. Some other states also have this right. The difference is, Texas has actually pulled that trigger before. Yes, Texas was an Independent Republic before it became a state and can secede. Nothing inherently prohibits that from taking place.

Let's get this straight. John McCain, a real American hero, carried Texas by over a million votes. Texans can still smell the fires of the Twin Towers . We would also honor President Bush. George Bush simply did what any Real Texan would do and that is to go try his best to annihilate anyone who was responsible for attacking us. We don't fault him for that. We applaud that sort of behavior. It's Texas politics, Texas style. *We're ready to secede.*

Don't get me wrong. We like ya'll - We just don't want to *be like ya'll.*

#1: Barack Obama becomes President of the United States (all the other 49 states).
#2: Ross Perot becomes the next President of the Republic of Texas and invites John McCain to be an honorary Texan. We honor our heroes in Texas and honor their service. McCain is welcome here and he can be Secretary of the Texas Navy. Native Texan George Foreman will be Secretary of Defense. After that is all said and done, we wish Mr. Obama well. We really do.

We expect one of Perot's first acts as President of the Republic will be to tear down the border wall and erect a 10' wall around Austin to keep the "Austin Weird" folks in and away from the rest of us. If they will just pipe their Texas music out over the wall, it will keep the rest of us happy. ( Just kidding my Austin relatives on that one.)

However, Willie will be Secretary of Agriculture and music. Wonder what he will grow?

So what does Texas have to do to survive as a Republic? Here's a few things to be aware of:
Texas is the 11th largest economy on the planet. We are bigger than Spain and right behind Great Britain . We are also bigger than Russia . We are an economic force to be reckoned with. We have a constitutional amendment to balance our budget..and we do it. We also have a multi-billion dollar budget surplus this year. We are so big, we have our own power grid. Yes, that's true.

*What else?* NASA is in Houston . (we will control the space industry). We refine over 85% of the gasoline in the United States . Defense Industry? We have over 65% of it. The term "Don't mess with Texas ," will take on a whole new meaning. Oil - we can supply all the oil the Republic of Texas will need for the next 300 years.
Obama states? Sorry about that. As David Werst said, *"We like ya'll, we just don't want to be like ya'll."*

You can buy oil (pronounced like ya'll) from us instead of terrorist countries that hate you. We will love you for paying so much to us instead of Saudi Arabia , Venezuela , Kuwait and others.
You don't want to 'drill baby drill' or put up with those nasty oil wells? Well, we do and we know how to do it without polluting the land, air, and sea. BTW-We have our own ports and shipping lanes. We're also not "waiting on our FEMA check" to rebuild Galveston . We are doing it right now as we speak.

Natural Gas - Again we have all we need and again, it's just too bad about you blue Obama states who don't want drilling. We've been driving around with those big tanks in the backs of our pickups for years now. We'll switch over to compressed natural gas. Obama will figure a way to keep ya'll warm..according to your need. Or, you could use ocean waves, or make friends with Hugo Chavez or what's his name in Iran .

Computer Industry - we currently lead the nation in producing computer chips and communications: Small places like Texas Instruments, Dell, EDS, Raytheon, Motorola, Intel, Austin Technology Centers Etc, Etc. The list goes on and on.

Health Centers - We have the largest research centers for Cancer research, the best burn centers and the top trauma units in the world, and other large health centers. We have enough colleges to keep us going: UT, Texas A&M, Texas Tech, Texas State University , Rice, SMU, TCU, University of Houston , Baylor, UNT, Texas Women's University, etc. Ivy grows better in the south anyway.

We have a ready supply of workers (just open the border when we need some more). But, we won't have an illegal immigration problem. Former Texas Governor candidate Kinky Friedman solved that. He proposed we pay 5 Mexican Generals a million a year to control illegal immigration-folks coming /from Mexico to Texas / illegally. For every illegal that slips through, we deduct $10,000. Wonder how many will get across the border into Texas ? We won't need a Border Patrol.

We like tourism. Come stay a while. Enjoy a Cowboys game or go to Six Flags over Texas ..then go home. We don't need any more Californians coming here and messing things up. Or, they could live in Austin where we can keep an eye on 'em.

We have control of the paper industry, plastics, insurance, etc. In case of a foreign invasion, we have the Texas National Guard and the Texas Air National Guard. We don't have an army but since everybody down here is heavily armed and has at least six rifles and a pile of ammo, we can raise an army in 6 hours if we need it. That's the Texas way. When the tower sniper started shooting in Austin a few years back, citizens piled out of their cars and pickups and started returning fire within 2 minutes. Our citizens are licensed to carry handguns on their person. We have a saying down here: "If you mess with the bull, you're gonna get the horns."

And an even more remarkable finding from the past..Average Murder per 100,000 residents in counties won by Bush: 0.1 of one percent. Average Murder per 100,000 residents in counties won by Gore: 13.2. In Texas , even some of our school teachers carry guns. We won't surrender our kids to nuts and terrorists without a fight. Don't even think about messing with us. If the situation really gets bad, we can always call the Texas DPS and ask them to send over a couple of Texas Rangers.

We are totally self sufficient in beef, poultry, hogs and vegetable produce and everybody down here knows how to cook them so that they taste good. Don't need any food.

Arts? Bob Wills is still the king, but we also like different types of music, Country..and..Western. We even have our own beer. Lone Star, The National Beer of Texas . This just names a few of the items that will keep the Republic of Texas in good shape. There isn't a thing out there that we need and don't have.
Just keep on reading David Werst's RealTexas Blog for more details on how to be a RealTexan.

Now to the rest of the United States under President Obama: Since you won't have the refineries to get gas for your cars, We'll sell you gas too. We'll call the gas company Texasco or something like that. Happy to do it. You won't have any TV as the space center in Houston will cut off your communications or ask you to pay for the signal. It will be Texas Direct TV. Hank Jr. will move here and be in charge of programming. Did you know we don't even have an income tax? We have all we need here in God's country and like I've already said, if we don't have it, we don't need it. We will have cheap, plentiful energy. The new Texas Secretary of Energy, T. Boone Pickens will be putting up thousands of wind generators all over the west Texas plains and since everybody else thinks Texas is full of hot air, we might as well take advantage of it.

Good luck. Ya'll are gonna need it.
Signed, The People of Real Texas

Who is A Little Left of Lost?

Well, that is a good question! I am a little bit of everything.

Oh, you want specifics?

Well, fine, but it's gonna be difficult, because I'm a Pisces and I'm not black & white about anything. But here goes:

I am 30-something, a mom, a daughter, a sister, and a friend. I'm originally from New York, but have lived in Texas since I was in 1st grade. But I don't consider myself a Texan, I don't say ya'll, & I love the Yankees.

I've got my undergraduate in psychology (and only a few credits short of one in criminal justice) and my master's in Social Work. I've already worked with children & families for 6 years, so I'm thinking I want to work w/ the elderly, those with disabilities, or with juvenile sex offenders.

I'm pretty liberal, I voted for Obama, I'm a bit of a tree-hugger, but I'm pretty sure I wouldn't actually live in a tree so it wouldn't be cut down. I'm a song-writer and a poet, & I'm pretty sure I've got several short stories & a novel stuck in this head of mine. I'm full of stories. I'm a vivid dreamer & sometimes I know things before they happen.

I love food & tequila & books & writing & blogging & people & dogs & music & the sky & sunsets & cooking & yoga & the magazine Texas Monthly & my daughter & California & the color of the ocean in the Caribbean. Oh, and Twitter.

I'm kind, gentle, silly, sassy, a push-over, loyal, extroverted, quiet around those I don't know, an open book w/ my heart on my sleeve, a book whore, and I get the shingles at least once a year.

I'm an impatient driver & a silly mom. 9 times out of 10, I give people second (and sometimes third) chances, and I always forgive.

I have one brother who is 10 years younger than me, and a sister who is 19 years younger than me. My parents are divorced.

I love my family more than all the stars in the sky, & I will FUCK.YOU.UP if you hurt any of them. Oh, and I cuss. Deal with it.

Oh, and the stats: Brown hair, brown eyes, big boobs, bad hips. And cellulite.

That is all.
(Well, not really, but....)