it's raining, it's pouring ... la la la la

i made it !
it's the one more sleep day ! tomorrow i leave for several days of rest and relaxation.
i have such a hugeeeeeee list today.

so last night/this morning i ended up going to bed somewhere around 2:46 ish.
at least that was the last time i can recall looking at the stupid clock.
i woke up at 9 this morning to the sound of thunder booming and fat raindrops beating against the windows. i should have, and could have just rolled over and gone back to sleep, but instead i went ahead and got up because i know that it's thursday and i have a gigantic list to do.

i have found that the key to getting my to do list done is to not leave the house.
if i leave the house then i end up running the streets all day and just being "out" in an effort to avoid what is lurkinig here, the big list.

yesterday and the day before were okay because i really did have legitimate errands that took me out of the house. i have one errand to run today, but to do it i really don't need to leave the house until around 2:30, so until then i have pledged to work around here to get the things done that really need doing before i leave town.

like laundry
like packing
like doing my nails
like giving myself a pedicure
like taking care of all those girly needs i have before i can go see the sweet boyfriend.

so i will get off here pretty soon and go get started.

i'm hoping that he doesn't come over here and hang around in the afternoon like he has been doing. he's been taking the child swimming everyday and then when he drops her back off between 3 and 4 he stays to watch her favorite cartoon with her, which starts at 4:30. so then he really does not leave until a little after 5.

here's the thing, it's hard to be a bitch about him just sitting on the couch with her watching television because he's really not bothering me, i mean, usually if i'm in here he doesn't even speak to me. it's just the point that he's here. but for me to tell him that he can't stay and watch this little 30 minute program with her makes me look like a complete bitch to the child. because she thinks we are friends now and she wouldn't understand why, if we are friends, it wouldn't be okay for him to just sit on the couch with her and watch tv. i can't really tell her "because his very presence in this house makes me ill" that's not a fair position to put the kid in.

so i just shut up about it.
i'm going to have to put up with a lot of this stuff not to look like the bad guy.
i'm going to have to put away a lot of my feelings of anger towards him so that he can be around the kids without me looking like psycho mom.

and it's a very hard situation to be in.
i don't want them to hate him, i don't want them to hate me.
it's very good if they think that we are all friends, it is just that mommy and daddy don't love each other like that and can't live together like that. if they think we are friends then they are going to be less likely to try to play us one against the other, which, i know that being very smart kids they are going to try to do. i mean, my goodness, they tried to do it when we were together.

i had seen a flash of something lighter outside my window and thought the sun was trying to peek out, but alas, it is thundering again.

maybe that's an indication that i should empty all these baskets and do this filing i've been putting off, get things in the filing cabinet like they should be, get all the papers put away and be done with that little project before i leave town.

it would be nice to come back and have all that done, that's for sure.

okay well, i am just adding to my list here instead of accomplishing anything.

so peace for the day :)

we shall update on progress tonight !

a 24 hour world

yesssssssssssssss !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*throws flowers, blows kisses, waves at the crowd from the back of a convertible*

i found the dress !

i'm so incredibly dingbatty sometimes.
it was under the bed in the storage container i forgot that i had because it's very small and it has only these really nice dresses in it. so i got it out and tried it on and oh, i think it is the dress. so i have it narrowed to three now.

now i need to go through my 40 pairs of black shoes and find the perfect pair to go with these dresses. i know i have a pair. i know i do. i mean i have the fuck me black sandals i bought last year, but i think they are a tad sluttish for this event. i'm sure in the shoe collection i have something for this event.

oh well.
so i lived in new york tonight.
you know, sometimes i do wish i lived someplace where things were open all night long. here the only things that are open all night are walmart, mcdonalds and the occasional grocery store. target may be open 24 hours, but i dunno.

i want to live in a world where the mall is open 24 hours.
where everything i want is open all day.

but tonight it almost was. at 9 i went to my brother's for a little visit. and the kid decided to spend the night with her uncle, as he had fireworks and 3 other kids to play with. i was on my own then, so off i went to walmart and then to the grocery store. then i went to the best 24 hour place in the world to get a good fountain pop. i came home and unloaded it all and put it away.

and i wasn't at all scared that i was a girl all alone out at night in my city.
which made me feel very good.

so now it's almost 1 and i'm still up.
i've just finished putting away all the laundry.
i need to unpack the suitcase.

it's so funny.
i opened up the smallest suitcase in search of the tankini top and i found my jeans and a cami and some panties and socks i had apparently not unpacked since .... april ?

they were clean obviously because i always do my laundry before i leave his place ..
but i think it's funny that i have panties from april and panties from may packed in suitcases in my closet.

if i don't need them i don't know why i don't just leave them there?

except i did think of one thing...

it made me laugh for a long time
he's a pretty smart guy, i couldn't leave too much of my stuff there before he'd figure out i'm just extending my closet and storage facility *snort*

so the kidlet is gone

and i need to get a bunch of stuff done tonight, but i've already done a bunch of stuff.
so i'm gonna try to get some sleep now. i love how he tells me to get some sleep now, he adds in (before it gets to late) so i don't stay up half the night.

one night last summer i was like this

and so i waited up til his alarm clock went off
and i said good morning to him and it was sweet conversation :)

but i'm not going to do that tonight, because i need to get some sleep, because after tonight there is just one more til vacation.

dreams and mornings

it's toooooooo early, but i was forced out bed by a dog needing a walk, and i kinda needed a walk myself, so i guess it was a good thing. but still, i went to sleep at 2 something and got up at 9, so not a real good night's rest for the wicked.

and the crazy dreams i had.
well one crazy dream. i remember it in vivid technicolor.
somehow i ended up in this little squat, kitchenette motel in this dinky little town called ada, oklahoma. i know it's a real town because i've been through there. how i ended up there in my dream i will never know.

so there i was in this dive motel with this an ex ex boyfriend. and for some reason it was like it was the past. he had put me there because he wanted me to meet his kids, and he wanted me to like his kids, some brady bunch thing. but then the whole thing went bad when he wanted to take a shower and the lady that owned the motel said that the only person who could shower in my room was the occupant of the room, me. so there was this big scene and i was trying to check out and they wouldn't refund my money since for some silly reason i had made reservations to stay in this dump for a whole week. and the whole rest of the dream was about me trying to get my money back. and in my dream i kept thinking "why am i here? i'm not supposed to be here. something about this isn't right" over and over again i kept thinking that and even kept saying it. but i never did figure out what was wrong.

random dreams.
they say that dreams are random firing of neurons across synapse while we sleep. that they mean nothing.
but i think that they have to be fueled by something in our subconscious.

like i think the reason i had that dream about an ex ex boyfriend was because late last night i was reading my old journals from way back in 2002 and 2003 and i was just looking at how much my life had changed, how much happier i am now. so i'm thinking some of the sadness of that time must have carried over into my head when i was sleeping.

i have a lot to do today.
still after being up nearly all night i did not find what i was seeking. i did get some of the closet cleaned out though. that was nice and good. but alas, still not what i wanted.

the temptational forces are strong today.
the temptation to goof off. the temptation to shop when i have no funds. the temptation to go back to bed and spend half the day there.

but i must fight off temptation !

i have only 2 sleeps left until vacation and sooooooooo much remains.

i did feel rather good last night though.
my ever sweet sister in law came over and she said "my god you weren't kidding around when you said he was getting out" she immediately noticed all the packing and removal of his things in the house and what a difference it made.

that in itself made me quite happy :)

have a great day, i know i will :)

the best ideas come at midnight ...

i love this midnight :-)

i'm on the hunt for two articles of clothing.
the top to a tankini and a certain dress.
i have searched through 5 storage containers.
why do i have to open them if they are clear?
i shoulda licked the damn things while i was at it, but i had to be sureee they weren't in there.

and the sad thing is, i'm so obsessive, tomorrow i will go through them again. plus i'll go through every other thing in the house until i find them or give up.

i'm on a deadline here people !

but that's not why i'm up at midnight.
you see, we have no cable this evening.
and the two other inhabitants of this house cannot live without the television and so they are finding it hard to be distracted. in fact, they sleep with the television on. i know it's a horrible habit i've let my child fall into. but she fell into it with him. sneaking up after bedtime to watch tv with him, and he allowed it, so i had two children. but i'm off topic...

so since we have do not have cable...
they are watching dvd's and i'm on this scavenger hunt.

and then i had this brilliant idea.
i swear to god they are like flashes of light sometimes.

maybe it is god ...
"here, i hid your dress from you, but you can have this brilliant idea instead"

ummmm gee, thanks.

i dunno, i'm looking around and i think that with strategic recon missions by the child we can locate said dress. the swimsuit top may have to be a casualty, and really, it's no big deal since i have another that i like just as well.

and still !

i got the brilliant idea out of the deal.

and no i can't talk about the brilliant idea :)
but it's gonna make a pool shark i know very happy

and now back to the closet, because i just know that damn thing is in there !

the life of a disease

my child happened to see me writing in my blog yesterday and asked me "so, are you the girl next door?"

i coyly replied, "well, aren't we both the girl next door to somebody?"

she let it go after that.
i don't care if she knows the name "the girl next door". it's not very likely that she could find this blog on her own. and if she did happen to mention to him that i'm the "girl next door" i doubt very seriously that it would register. and besides, honestly, if he found this blog, what the fuck would i care at this point?

yesterday was another day of running around town and trying to get things done. still i was left feeling like i had accomplished very little. i'm not seeing big progress on the house like i need to and it's tuesday and i am leaving on friday. back in the olden days of self destruction i would have just skipped my meds for a few days and stayed up all night on a binge and cleaned and cleaned and worked and worked until i was happy. however, i'm not feeling like this is a good time to skip meds and go on any manic frenzy, no matter how appealing the outcome might be.

speaking of meds, this is pretty scary. i take 5 pills a day to keep my bipolar disorder under wraps and under control, which is fine, every single pill performs a certain function to keep my brain chemistry exactly right. but what is scary is the warning labels that come on each little bottle. i was studying them last night.

i take one pill called lamictal because it's an anticonvulsant which is supposed to prevent mood episodes by inhibiting sodium and calcium in presynaptic neurons and by stabilizing the neuronal membrane (basically it makes everything level) this pill has exactly 4 warning labels on the bottle.

then there is another pill called topamax which is supposed to reduce rapid cycling (not bike riding, but mood swinging cycling in the brain). oh and it's the rapid cycling that can be caused by the first pill. this little bottle has 5 warning labels.

then there is my favorite pill. seroquel. this little baby is the size of a bb and it has the potency to knock a full grown elephant on it's ass in about 5 minutes. i get to take 2 of these a night and i swear you could set your watch most nights that about 10 minutes after i take them... it's lights out. these are used to treat acute mania and borderline schizophrenia (see i knew there was more than one personality in my head) this little bottle has 4 warning labels and i don't get to eat grapefruit because of it. (now how odd is that?)

and lastly, as if none of the "warning this medication may cause drowsiness" labels weren't enough on any of those drugs, i have temazepam, my little white sleeping capsule. people who are bipolar are often unable to sleep naturally for more than 3 or 4 hours at a time unless they are in a low state. even with all my other meds if i don't take this little pill i'm up and off in 3 or 4 hours. now for some people that's just grand, but for bipolar people sleep is a critical thing, so i have to take this to make sure i get my 7 or 8 hours in.

it's not often that i write about this disease.

but right now i feel like i should. there are people who care about me who read this blog and some of them understand this thing and some of them don't. i have one friend who is realllly good at picking out when i'm standing on top of an episode about to swing either way. and it's odd because she is someone i only talk to on msn. but gilly can tell just by things i say or how i say them where i'm at in the cycle. she has had experience with this disease with someone else in her life and she knows the warning signs all too well.

so just for the record, being bipolar means that if you are doing well you are living like a normal person with normal highs and normal lows. but being episodic means something else all together.

if you are low, then it's the absolute end of the world. when i'm low like that i lose all willingness to get out of bed, to function, to eat, to bathe, to talk, to dream. i don't want to live, i don't care what happens to me and i lose the ability to see anywhere into the future so that i can dig myself out.

if you are high it can be just as devastating as if you are low, actually, it can be more so. people who are cycling on the high side of being bipolar see themselves as invincible and rationalize that no matter what they do it will turn out to be the best thing in the world. and being high pushes whatever weak button you have into high gear without impunity. so if you are a shopper and you go manic it may be nothing to go out and max out every charge card you have on a binge because you see yourself in a state of being so powerful that you never thing about consequences. for some people, it's sexual. people go out and take risks that they wouldn't normally take because they see themselves as being untouchable.

so everyday in my world i wake up and i think about how i feel.
i have to. i don't intend to leave this earth the way my dad did.
if i think it is going to be a low day i have to give myself that pep talk.
if i think it's going to be a high cycling day then i have to take precautions and remove those things from my reach that could hurt me if i suddenly think i can be superwoman.

i think i have removed the biggest toxin from my life that made me go from up to down and back again. my mood being so dependent on my interaction with him. i had hope before, but now i have something else besides just hope. i have hope and i have a situation that provides that those hopes will come to fruition. i have dreams and i have a situation where those dreams might actually come to pass. that kind of living situation will definitely put one in a different frame of mind.

well i've rambled on enough for one morning... and had my coffee, so i have no more excuses to sit here and write on.

i have a small list of "to do" today.
it's raining outside and the smaller my list, the more manageable it all seems to be.

peace :)

cracking or laughing

it's nearly 10 am as i get started this morning with 2 cups of juan valdez glory juice in me...

i have a lot to do today!

"he" wants to come over today for some nonsense bullshit, to drop off papers for something i need to fill out. he called yesterday morning for this non important mess but i told him no, i didn't want to be bothered with him yesterday. funny, i still don't want to be bothered with him today. so i'm thinking i will call him and he can come on over and drop them off and visit the kidlet while i'm gone. there's no reason for me to see him. he can do all this while i'm out of here.

i have some out of the house errands. and i need to make a list, otherwise, i'll get sidetracked on this beautiful, hotter than hell day and end up running all day long and get nothing at all done.

i have 3 distinct pieces of furniture to move in the house today, but before they can be moved they must be emptied and their contents packed. so i need to get more packing boxes while i'm out. i think people getting divorced must keep the packing box industry booming.

funny thing is, i told my mom the other day that i always wondered how long it would take me to pack his shit up in short order, well now i guess i know almost exactly.

so items to do out running...

hair cut ... maybe i'll feel a whole new kind of princess power after i get my hair cut. maybe i'll feel all girly and new. maybe i'll feel like letting the boy press me against the wall and kiss me the way he does that just makes me melt.

work stuff... the necessary evil that is going to keep me employed for another year. this should take all of 15 minutes and the pure hell is going to be finding a place to park. no big deal.

banking... oh this is laughable. how long can the bank take when you are broke ?

at some point you know.. i need to unpack the suitcase from my last trip so i can repack it for this trip. pretty easy stuff, i'm not packing anything fancy. my denim capris and a couple of tees and that should be enough for this adventure. oh yeah, and my swimsuit and a few good books i need to finish. hell, i think i could just get away with my swimsuit and the clothes i need for the big date since all i ever wear when i'm there are his boxers and tshirts and my own skin.

i dunno why i feel this way today... i haven't felt this way through this whole thing.
about 2 centimeters from cracking.
about 2 centimeters from laughing.
i'm so on the edge, so walking that line.

let me have some payback, let me have some justice.... that's what i want to scream.
but screaming won't do me any good.
and at this point, i don't think payback will either.
my soul would just drown in the bad karma.
and i don't want a drowning soul right now.

i'm a good girl in a bad place and i feel surrounded by the forces of evil and goodness.
now i just need to weed my garden, to pick out the good and destroy the bad.

late night passing...

i didn't do a damn thing today...
not really.
i was a slacker and kind of just ran the streets like a wildchild.

tomorrow i have errands to run too.
haircut.
a small thing for work (the bad "w" word) .
then back here to finish these projects of mine.
not any small feat i assure you.

but i have a lot to get done before thursday. thursday is the day i get packing.

so yeah.
i'm starting to get that wind down.
where all the functions in my head are slowing down.

i've got to get something settled in my head pretty clearly.

do you know ?
does anybody know ?

scribbles on paper ...

i used to think i could say,
but lately even that's been hard to...
there are places even i don't go.
sometimes i'm just standing at the edge of the deep end,
looking down in the blue.
it all looks so calm
a million air bubbles between here and there
to drown in.
the things we don't say when we say what we mean..
and i could lose myself in you if you let me
become part of you like air and water
into the deep end
i used to think i could say ...



oh if i can't believe the first time
then i'm begging you to forgive me
there's all this newness in being an object of affection
naked in my own skin
and if ask if i'm beautiful fifty times a day
then forgive and remember
my own secrets of being afraid
of not being enough ...
it's not you i doubt
it is what is within me
or what is without
taken away or stolen by trusted souls
oh if i can't believe the first time ..
tell me one hundred more.

my favorite things ...

my favorite things today were involved with getting my list done.
i'm a very happy girl. the laundry room is organized and workable and i love it.
i have a wall of boxes of his things waiting for him to pick up. i was very nice and even labelled each box with as much information as i could. his name, the bookcase they came off of, even the author if it was a series or collection. i am so kind.

i packed up 2 boxes of my books that i wanted to keep.
does anyone even care what i kept?
i kept the illustrated guide of the west. i kept a history of the american people by paul johnson. i kept the collected works of william faulkner. i kept the e.m. forster set and the jane austen. i kept the set of world spirituality, religion and philosophy books. i kept the chronicles of narnia.
i kept the biographies of thomas jefferson and catherine of aragon. i kept the collection of world poetry.

and of course, i kept the cookbooks.
as if i will ever use them, but i kept them anyway.
someday i might attempt to become a good cook. we'll have to see if it becomes a goal.

so anyway
i have a definite goal for tomorrow
i know what it is
it's not a very big one and it's one i can get accomplished if i just try hard enough
and it will go a long way in me being ready for what i need to have done when i get back from my vacation.

mmmmmmmmmmmmm vacation
it's so close i can almost feel it.
in one week i have my date.
i could have a shoe crisis but i'm refusing to think about it ... he's either going to like me or he's going to like me.
i don't think at this point he can't not like me.

so the whole point when i sat down here was to write about my favorite things right now...
my list of favorite things...
because i had them all picked out and everything and then

an den
an den

no more an den

i forgot
night :)

useful information from the little red book

it's amazing what scientists will spend money to study.
i just read in "the little red book" produced each year by "the week" that scientists have found that serotonin levels in the brain do fluctuate when people are in love, thus it is true that being in love does make you crazy.

okay, we needed a study to prove that?

hmmmm ...
so let's see, being in love impairs decision making and makes you unable to think...
so why don't we ticket people for driving when they are in love and have an accident just like we do when they drink and drive? i mean, after all, they are impaired.

more nonsense they needed to study...
pot smokers get lung cancer just like cigarette smokers.
hmm. let's see... i think regardless of the substance, isn't it all a bunch of toxins and carcinogens going into your lungs and other systems? no, i can't see the common sense factor there at all.

two studies i found interesting and comical ...
why men are afraid of committing to marriage, now this one was laughable.
one study found that men who won't get married say that they won't because they are able to get sex without getting married so marriage holds no advantage for them. oh my god, i can't believe it ! you mean what grandma said about "why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free" was really true ??????? i guess so granny. and they have proven it now.

the second study said that most men don't get married because they are looking for their "soulmate" and that they don't view women who they meet in bars or who have sex with them before the 5th date to be marriage material.

okay... back the truck up.

study one indicates they want sex ... study two indicates in order to marry they don't want sex.

exactly what the fuck is it that men really do want?

all i can think of is that they really must have studied some weird control groups of men for these "scientific findings".

it's all pretty laughable isn't it? we have big issues like cancer and ms and other diseases and our scientists are doing love research and research on why men are non committal.

i did glean one key bit of information from the little red book, a little article on "how to sulk".
apparently, there are 3 important steps to good sulking, which the little red book calls an "emotional strike action".

step 1: out of sight is out of mind. you can stay in the same room but you have to ignore the other person and pretend nobody else is there. (yeah, i can do this pretty well)

step 2: do not have any eye contact with the person you are sulking against. this is bad. if they do something that might make you laugh or smile then you have lost. and once you have unsulked, you cannot resulk.

step 3: a sulk can last anywhere from 7 minutes to 7 years. According to the London Guardian, you should only stop sulking when you have achieved the perfect blend of complete attention, physical reassurance, and a major admission of guilt and selfishness.

okay, now stop and ask yourself... did they really need to print these directions for any woman in the world?

didn't think so *smirk*

just words i wanted to say but never had the chance

i do believe in karma.
there has to be some kind of cosmic payback system in place in the universe or it would all be fucked up, so i do believe, i so believe that those who have wronged be will get theirs in the end.

but still i wish, i wish, i wish i was brazen enough or bold enough or brave enough to just say what i want when i should.
maybe it's for the best that i can't or that i don't. but sometimes i think it would just be so good to be able to say what i mean without having to choose my words so carefully. that's old habit. being raised to choose your words so carefully that you don't cause a huge "family discussion" or some other big ordeal. or choosing my words so carefully that i didn't piss off the husband at the time.

fuck that.
i'm sicking of choosing my words carefully.
i want to say what i want, when i want, and i want to mean it.

goddamn. sometimes i get so eaten up by the things that i wanted to say but i never did. it's like i need some huge purge, i just want to scream...

fuck you for never listening to me
fuck you for never seeing who i was
fuck you for never appreciating me
fuck you for lying.
fuck you for thinking i was too stupid to recognize what you did to me.
fuck you for thinking i was too stupid to ever call you on it .
fuck you for running out on your responsibilities.
fuck you for never having time for me.
fuck you for making me feel worthless.
fuck you for making me feel less than beautiful and sexy.
fuck you for taking away that part of me that belonged to me.
fuck you for making me feel so stupid that i question everything i do now.
fuck you for making me question how someone else could love me, show me affection or even find me worthy.
fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.


i've heard enough lies from enough men to last me four dozen life times.

i want to hear some truth.

what's wrong with the truth?

i'm pissy and i'm irritable right now.

and i'm not very good at being either one.

and lately it seems like all i do is bitch.

there are two choices the way i see it, crawl off and die and stand and fight. that's it. there's nothing in between.

i'm going to bed now
i want to wake up to a better tomorrow.
i really think i deserve one someday.

and i'm saying right now, that tomorrow, anyone, and i mean ANYONE that pisses me off or rains on my parade will not have the pleasure of my company.

on building things

well it's 9:33 am

i think i may have already spoiled the day, though i hope not.
i did something i rarely ever do... i got up and walked the dog and crawled right back into bed and slept for another hour. it sure seemed like a great idea at the time since i couldn't keep my eyes open. i even had two sips of the magic coffee elixir and nothing jumped, no hike in pulse or other systems... so i thought another hour of sandman sleep wouldn't hurt me a bit.

the thing about going back to bed is that i like to get up early and get a start on the day.
now wait, i know, you are confused. you are thinking, but this chick bitches all the time about people waking her up too early... okay, yes, but there is a distinct difference in waking up early on your own and waking up early to a rude phone call. so this morning i woke up early on my own and decided i still wasn't ready to get up.

i have a hellacious task in front of me today.
i have broken it down into a list, because i can't do anything without some kind of ordered list. it's a side effect of the boyfriend i think, the lists. his way of helping me handle tasks that seem overwhelming is to get me to sit down and make a list to plan things out, and i have to say, it really is helping. at least on paper the things appear to be doable and not so damn overwhelming and scary.

i have to put together a small filing cabinet today.
it's oak and has a lock and it shouldn't be that hard of a project.
his advice (since he is mr fix it and i mean this literally, my god the man could build a house with a roll of duct tape, a hammer and a drill) was to lay all the pieces out, get all my materials ready and sit down and actually read the directions before i begin.

it's laughable... actually reading the directions first ????
hahahahaha... well of course i will, i'm not the soon to be ex. he never read directions for anything. i, of course, am an honors student, 3.98 in undergrad and a perfect 4.0 in grad school so far, of course i will read the directions.

now of course, (and at this i laugh heartily) it doesn't mean i will understand any of them.

i am not mechanically inclined.
never have been, doubtful that i ever will be.
i don't know even simple things that i should know... like how to change a tire, or how to screw in something with a drill (even though i did use the drill to help mount the dartboard) but really and truly, my ability to do spatial tasks and tasks that involve me to think about things in clean lines and schematics baffle me.

and you know the soon to be ex offered to put the damn thing together yesterday, i'm sure i mentioned that, but i stubbornly refused. the sweet boyfriend and joolz and gilly would be sorely disappointed if i wimped out and let him do it for me. and for several reasons i'm not going to let him do it.

1. because he will fuck it up and it will be shoddy craftsmanship
2. because it will then become a situation where "i need him"
3. because it will then become a situation where "i owe him"
4. because it will show a complete lack of faith in my ability to be a strong independent woman

so the file cabinet is just one of the things on the list, but it's a necessary thing because i'm getting rid of the two icky nasty broken down pieces of file cabinet crap that we have now and taking them curbside.

then ... and this will really get him in the cajones... i'm packing up one whole bookcase of his books. his precious books. one whole bookcase is probably close to 200 books that i will pack up, put a label on and tell him to come pick up so they can be removed from MY HOUSE.

once that is done then i can start my mad scientist project on the reorganization of the laundry room.

so i am guessing that this file cabinet is going to take roughly 90 minutes to put together and past that i can get the rest done in 3 hours. that's not too bad. so with breaks in there ...5 hours of solid work to get everything done i need done.

i'm thinking one more cup of coffe and that will be it. i'll have enough energy and be awake enough to translate directions.

i'll update on progress later... hopefully i won't break anything or throw anything at anyone in the meantime :)

fortune, oh fortune

fortune tellers and charismatic pentecostal preachers both do the same thing to me, they make me weep. i'm impressionable. i mean it's could be because my soul is open and anything special happened. it just happens to be that the last time i saw either a fortune teller or a pentecostal preacher i was in just the right place emotionally to weep when given an outlet of a centimeter. this is the reason i both want to go to a voodoo ceremony and yet at the same time am terrified to even be witness to one.

i have been to many a witch and psychic.
i have been to many a collared priest and non collared preacher.
some have been helpful and some have been not.
and still i get the same result, i wept.

i wept in salem when i finally got to see the witch who told me that the man i thought would break my heart, would indeed break it and break it soon. (she was right, and i knew it anyway because he wasn't right and i wasn't right and the whole thing wasn't right)
how did she even know he was married?
i think it's me maybe.
i give too much away?

i cried when diane, the psychic cajun sister told me that i give too much to too many people. and i wondered how she knew that a man i had trusted would betray me and soon. (could it be they tell that to every woman because in a high percentage of cases it's true or possibly true?)

i'm sure some will argue it's a con.
argue what you will.
they say religion is a con too, and if so then it's one of the oldest ones going.

so i started reading my own fortune a long time ago, somewhere around 20 years i guess. and i am amazingly accurate at it, but again it's all an interpretation of cards ...
but i do believe in them, i do believe that sometimes those little cards can give you a clue of what's to come. and after reading my fortune tonight, i'm certain of it.

it revealed 3 things i already knew

that the current situation was the coming and going of misfortune and unrest
that my fears are basically a fear of the unknown in myself and a fear of discord
and that my hopes are for great haste, great hopes, great love, letters of love, and a journey by air.

the final outcome card, how appropriate, the hanged man, whose interpretation reads:

"In spiritual matters, wisdom, prophetic power. A pause in one's life, suspended decisions. Surrender leads to the transformation of the personality. Material temptation is conquered."

if you take that card into consideration with my other cards, it means that at the end of this divorce, at the end of all this change, i will have a break in my life where i will have some peace. and it also means if i can survive it intact, which i will, i will be the stronger for it because i will have learned to live without those "things" we all think we need so much.

i feel all the better for having read my fortune tonight.
i've been wanting to do it and putting it off because i've been wondering, just what would the cards say?
and did the boy come into the cards ?
of course he did.

he was the card that covered mine
a man with a message, an invitation, a proposition...

i'm going to bed happy now, and i'm not going to think much about tomorrow.
i feel pretty secure with the future.

grrrrrrrrr

well today is the the day.
fuckface is coming over today to supposedly "help" me get the online bill pay situation under control and to get the paperwork to go get the cars reregistered and new tags for them.

i seriously hate him right now.
we had a phone conversation yesterday when i was shredding all the nonsense bullshit papers from our files, and to be honest, i was in no frame of mind to talk to his stupida ass, and the whole thing went south in a hurry.
i basically told him... "you need to find a job and get your sorry ass to work or i will be forced to get a second job to feed your children"

yes, i know, it was a little extreme.
but for christs sake, i'm paying my personal bills, the household bills and HIS personal bills now and it's all too much. he need some little job just for the sake of taking responsibility for his own bills.

you know, i keep thinking how i got screwed in all this.
why couldn't i have been the one to just walk and not have to pay a damn thing?
oh wait, i know. because i am the responsible adult here.

he actually had the nerve for all of 45 seconds yesterday to attempt to lecture me on the way i spend money. i shut him down. i don't think he wanted to hear me scream about how i spend my money on necessities like groceries and toilet paper.

he's supposed to be here between 10 and 11 ....
i wonder if there is enough time for a xanax to kick in before he gets here and not let it ruin my whole day?

nope.
wrong again.
he's supposed to be here between 10 and 11 and here it is 9:13 and he's knockin on the door.

later people.

tender little playlists

"if i could baby i'd give you my world, how can i if you won't take it from me..."
go your own way, fleetwood mac

just a musical commentary...
yesterday i was at applebee's and i heard this cheesy rendition of one of my favorite songs of the moment "go your own way", and it was being badly sung by Wilson Phillips and i wanted to puke. nobody can belt that out like lindsay buckingham, and the best version of it i have found is on 'the dance' cd.

i mean my god, he was singing those words to stevie nicks after he was done with their relationship, you have to be able to feel the bitterness of some of his words. i'm sorry but the little golden girls just don't have the venom of a broken heart to do it justice.

i have been thinking a lot about music in the last half hour or so.
trying to match the playlist on my player to the playlist in my mind.
you know it does work, and everybody does it.

the last time we made love to the playlist it was sooooooooooooo good.
it was so different.
it was special.
there was a certain rhythm about it and it was good.

something else happened then besides that rhythm...
quite possibly the most erotic thing a man has ever done to me in my life.
and i didn't outright say it ...
but i said it to him in a way that let him know it was one of those things that just took my breathe away and yet i couldn't talk about it in words that would make sense to anyone other than me ...
it's such a tender, secret thing.

and it's such a little thing too.
it probably wouldn't mean a thing to any other woman in the world but me.
we all have our mysteries.

it's early now and i am going to bed i think.

i love you day

today is a special day ...
so no tears, no worries, no stress, no being sad, no getting mad over exes....

there will be nothing that i will allow in my life today to take away from the specialness of this very important day.

it is "i love you" day.

one year ago today is the day that my sweet boyfriend and i finally got around to saying "i love you" to each other for the very first time.

it is kind of sweet how it happened the very first time.
we were both waiting for the other person to say it first because neither one of us wanted to be out there all alone with those words just hanging, even though we both knew that was how we felt, there was still a little fear ... will he say it too? will she say it back? will he mean it the way i do? will she mean it the way i want her to?

i was in serious crush with the boy. i crushed on him morning, noon and night. still do, actually. i'm still crazy over the moon in love with him.

actually i'm more in love with him now because i know the person he is a whole lot better than when those 3 little words escaped from my lips for the very first time.

i know what he wants now, what he wants tomorrow, what he wants when he's 90.
i know who he has been. i know what his dreams are at night and i know who he dreams of.

he told me a year ago today "funny thing, love, little beast snuck up on me."
and i asked him "but do you like it"
his response "very much so"

and a year later here we are, very much so in love on i love you day.

i want to be with him today.

to really be with him in the flesh, to hold him and kiss him and tell him "i love you" so i can look in his eyes and see it. but it can't be that way today.

so i will wait the required 9 more days until i can take flight and land somewhere in a southeastern state in a little airport, where at the end of a concourse he will be waiting with a smile on his face, open arms, and a pocketful of candy for his midwest girl.

more final please

"don't confront me with my failures, i had not forgotten them..." these days, jackson browne

my brother said he went from a 38inch waist back to a 34 with the "gin dry" diet.
he said drinking all that water was fucking him up, so he had to dry it up with gin and bam he lost weight.

i think i'm on the "my soon to be ex husband gives me the shits" diet.
sorry to be blunt, but that's the way it is.
i feel like i should be able to get some kind of doctor's note not to have to deal with him, but that's quite impossible since we have these two children. make a note married people who have no children, think about it long and hard and don't bank on it to save a marriage. once you have a child with someone they become a key on your keychain you just can't ever get rid of.

and it wasn't anything really that he said or did. well it was kinda. it's his whole demeanor of looking like he's going to stroke out one minute or just hang dog and cry the next. drop her off and leave already. but he can't.

i'm sitting here with a fresh batch of tears.
and so thankful i had the foresight to buy more tissue.

"i wanna know what became of the changes we waited for love to bring, were they only the fitful dreams of some greater awakening..." jackson browne, the pretender

i just want to sit here right now
but not sit here
i need to be distracted
i need to not sit here and think of how fucked up my life is because if i do that right now i'm in the mode of it being my fault.

all three j's were my fault, every single one of them bad bad ideas.
i think i live my life in relative safety, but i have had the premonition that i will suffer harm at the hand of an evil man.
a j every one.

i can't get hung up on the alphabet now.

my father would say to look at the numbers.

i think it's a good thing i get out of here for 11 days.
i need to be away from him and he needs to be away from me... and we need to make this more final ... i can't have this anymore.

i'm playing the numbers this time.

no ice cream for you !

it's kinda funny how when you begin to worry about other people you stop thinking about yourself.

i have been so self absorbed lately that i haven't taken the time to notice the little problems in other people's lives. and that makes me feel a little guilty. typically i am not that kind of person at all. if a friend is in need then i am always available to try to help in anyway i can. and right now i know someone who is just like me, with a little much on their plate and i feel a bad because not only do i feel like i've added to what is on their plate, i feel like i haven't been a very good person in regard to helping them clear the mess on the table. i'm going to will myself to do a better job at worrying less about me and my outcome. worrying about myself never seems to do much good anyway. and maybe putting my good thoughts into someone else right now will send a certain amount of good karma my way.

i am supposed to go out today for a "girls" lunch with someone i work with. having summers off is a great adventure and it makes good fun to get together with people you haven't seen in a month to catch up and talk and chit chat about what's been going on. and to tell you the truth, i'm looking forward to adult company with someone who is not related to me. we can bitch about what a dickwad our boss is and how we will despise having to see him come august and talk about how we really don't care what he says or does in his anal retentive fashion. yes, i think it's going to be good.

we had an ice cream emergency last night around 10:30. the youngest child came running into my room at full speed... "we have nothing but women living in this house now and still there is nothing sweet to eat!!!!!!!!! we must go to sonic and get a junior banana split right now !"

i think she has pms.

so into the car in pajamas we went. sonic sucks by the way, at least the one by my house does. we get there, push the little red button, only to be told that they are out of ice cream. how the fuck does sonic run out of ice cream??? so the next best option that late at night was a convenience store, still in our pj's, a quick run in and a quick run out to get that little candy bar to calm the savage 11 year old. i have to admit that the candy bar at 11 pm was pretty damn tasty. and who the fuck cares if i was out in my pjs? i have no one to tell me not to be, and at my age i'm sure i can decide if pj's are appropriate attire for late night traveling.

and yes, i know, i'm not the mom of the year for letting an 11 year old have a candy bar at 11 at night. but guess what? it's her summer vacation too. it's the time of year where if she wants to stay up all night she can, and if she wants a candy bar at 11 she should be able to have one.

i don't want to be a mother who tells my girls "no you can't have what you really want because society says you can't and if i let you that will mean society says i'm a bad mother"

fuck society. they don't live in my house. they don't pay my bills or raise my kids.

and i certainly never intend to be the kind of mother who tells them "if you eat after 8pm it will go straight to your hips" whose beauty standard does that reasoning work off of? i know, i know, there is probably some logic and health reason for it, but still, i'm not going to raise anorexic or bulimic little girls who struggle their whole lives to be what television or magazines say they should be. instead i am going to teach them my mantra "fuck your fascist beauty standards".

it took me to the age of 35 to be comfortable in my own skin. god, i do not want that for them. i want them to be comfortable in their own skin for all of their lives and proud of who they are. i want them walk with their head held high and their shoulders back, not looking down at their own two feet all the time.

you know it's funny now to think back.
35 was the beginnining of my own personal sexual revolution.
i traded in mommy panties for thongs and sexy boy shorts and started really taking stock in how sexy 35 can be.

at 36 i decided that just because my husband didn't want sex didn't mean i had to stop having sex too.

at 37 i met the most incredible man in the world who showed me that love wasn't a bad four letter word and that there was more to life than just 3 meals a day and watching the evening news and going to bed promptly at 9:30. i also found out at 37 that all forms of sex can be good, well not just good, but great ! and, i found out that i want more of it!

i wonder what 38 will bring? it's only a few weeks away now. i swear if i get an AARP flyer i will shoot someone.

shhhh don't tell .... it's all girly

i think right now i'm more insane than my 13 year old was when she got to go to her first dance at school.

and it's all because ....
are you ready...
it's so insanely high school ...
so totally not me at all ...

i just want to look beautiful for the 2nd day of july !

i can't find just the *right* dress or just the *right* shoes for this event (a wedding) and it's driving me crazy.

and why do i care so much?

well it's like my first *real* date with my boyfriend.

yes i know we've had every kind of sex any one can imagine and swapped every body fluid known to man ... and worked out our future plans to everywhere... but still ...

it's a *real* date.

is there anything so awful about being nearly 38 and wanting to look beautiful for a special boy?

god i hope not. if so, i'm just going to give up being a girl altogether.

but sssssshhhhhhh don't tell him how nervous i am ...
i still want to be able to be a little girly, even if i am nearly 38.


ooooooooh and a note to you if you've commented on my blog ... thanks :)

big ass can of hairspray and love

one of the best things about this pending divorce is the amount of time i have been spending with my children. i guess that's the way it is, and the way it will be. he is gone so all the parenting is now my responsibility. and it's good the amount of time we have been spending together because we spend it laughing and having a good time, and sometimes we spend it talking about how we feel.

my baby is the only one home with me at the moment. she is nearly 11 and she has one of those kind of personalities where i would like her and want to spend time with her even if she weren't my kiddo.

tonight we are killing flies with a bigass can of hairspray. somehow one of those nasty big freakish flies got in the house, the kind that zoom past you like an air force jet and make that loud buzzzzzzzzzz in your ear that makes you crazy. anyway, i don't have a flyswatter and i couldn't get it with a magazine, so i have the next best thing, the big ass can of hairspray as my 11 year old calls it. she actually measured it with the measuring tape, this can of shaper hair spray is 13 1/2 inches tall. now why i need that big of a can of hairspray at one time i do not know. surely i didn't buy it just to kill flies and wasps.

you know the whole idea of killing flies with hairspray is cruel.
you just let them fly near enough to you to get a good spray and *poof* their wings get all sticky and gummed together and they can't fly anymore. the better the airspray, the stickier they are and the quicker they will fall. hairspray is excellent for wasps too, the same principle applies.

i learned all this because of my phobia of flying bugs, when in a pinch any method of killing them will do.

so today was father's day and he took the kidlet to the local theme park.
they had a good time, i guess she wore him out and he foolishly rode all the rides.
foolish, foolish man.
then he decided he was in a mood to come back here and tell me what bills he was going to pay when and if he finally ever got a job. he actually tried to fuss with me over one of the bills. i wanted to say "back up buddy, i've been paying all the bills for the better part of two years, so i think you can pay whatever the judge says"
but i didn't.
i was good and calm and really ...
i just wanted him the fuck out of my house.

we were talking tonight (we being julia, gilly, the sweet boyfriend and i)
about being in love to the point of being strung out on somebody.
the bad kind of love that beats you down, the abusive kind of love that makes you like a junkie. i think most people have been in "love" like that at least once in their lives. the kind of love that makes you sick at the same time you think it makes you all well.

those people we have loved like that...
where do they get off ?
where do they get off playing with our heads and hearts for lack of something better to do?
they decide to call you to reward you and withhold their affection to punish you for whatever you've done that was wrong. and in the meantime you spoon your soul out on the table and sift through it looking for some piece of you that is so special it will make that person fall in love with you so completely that the games will all cease to be.
but it never happens.

i'm so glad i will never be in that cycle again.
i'm so glad i will never know false love again.
i'm so grateful i will never have to question the words "i love you" when they are said to me.
i'm infinitely grateful i will never be put in the position to have to ask him "do you love me?" and try to pry his love from him with a crowbar.

i am tired of being punished by "love"
living in a place where the words "i love you" mean something else entirely. i want to hear them the way my boy says them because i know he means them. i know he means exactly what he says, that he loves me but that its more than just i love you, it's all the implied warranties and clauses that come with it.

i'm addicted to him,
but thankfully he's not in short supply so i'm not a love junkie.

late saturday nights

i'm watching a very old saturday night live rerun ...
with gilda radner, she's doing emily latella and a bit about "endangered feces"
a long time ago back in the beginning days of showtime and hbo she did a comedy special and it was just fabulous. she did all of her best characters. i think i was 12 or 13 when i realized what a comic genius she was.

my mind is playing pinball tonight. bouncing round and round.
i'm waiting for the medicines to hit the right pockets so i can kick in to sleep gear.
i worked hard enough today to be able to sleep. i reorganized the sanctuary, including moving every piece of furniture save the desk. moving a queen size bed by yourself isn't exactly an easy chore but hey, i'm a woman and i can manage it.

i'm all happy i got a great deal on a new office chair and i don't have to just sit on the bed to use the laptop anymore, i can actually use the desk. things are looking up.

my friend joolz told me to burn sage to purify my space. i think i'm going to do just that.

night kids.

a note

forgive me if i didn't want to crawl in the grave and die with you.
signed,
your soon to be ex wife

on strong and independent

again with this crap where the font does exactly what i want and then changes...
i never thought i was a computer idiot before this blog, but oh well.

so on being and a strong and independent woman... well that is step two of the grand scheme or plan. step one was getting him out of here and beginning to declutter. and step two is the continuation of decluttering and mastering all the little overwhelming things.

this is not all that hard.
i can do this, i know i can. i just keep saying that to myself, but not enough sometimes to make the tears stop when they start coming. and i guess that's okay too. you can't control them sometimes, they just come. i do manage though to keep them at bay away from the kids. today i was out for a good 2 hours running errands and i did my crying then in the car between lowe's and the pharmacy and the store. hell, i don't even know what they are for.

that's what sucks.
i don't even know what the fuck i'm crying about.
you know when you are a kid and your parents tell you, "quit crying or i'll give you something to cry about young lady!" or something of the like. i'm not sure i could because i don't even know what i'm crying about.

or worse yet, what emotion is driving it?
rage? sadness? general stress?
i couldn't even say.
i know i get mad.
i get angry because now all of a sudden he's doing these fucking things he should have been doing all along. what does he want for doing what he should have done, a gold star? a pat on the head?
no.
he wants back in here.
so he tells me all these changes he's making and i'm supposed to just think he's great.
i don't think so.

and i did figure out one other thing that's pretty damn interesting.
i had to talk to him tonight for something to do with one of the kids and he was at his folks house where his family could hear his conversation. his brother answered the phone. i thought it interesting that at the end of that conversation i didn't hear " i love you " like i did when it was just him on his cell phone or him in the driveway.

his family thinks i'm an evil bitch now.
as if i care.
they don't know what this was like, they have no idea and i don't care to share with them at the moment.

so this being a strong and independent woman means that i have to do things myself.
i'm going to have to budget my time wisely now. i'm going to have to really plan things now that i'm the only taxi cab for all of us.

it also means that i am going to have to do things myself.
i bought this cabinet for storage, it's a rubbermaid cabinet.
it requires no tools and snaps together. so we will see how it goes.
it's pretty big, it's taller than me, with 5 shelves, but i think i can do it.

and being a strong independent woman means just that .... strong and independent

strong as in i'm going back to the gym to get back to some running regimen by fall.
it's been ages since i've run it seems. i'm going to have to build up to it. but before the fall i'll be strong again.

independent as in i'm going to be doing things myself for myself. i can do these things and i will. i am not afraid of the things the future brings. my present is 100 % better than my past was if i look back to this day a year ago, so many good things have happened.

and when i look to the future ... i'm only seeing that it will get better