Category Archives: A Moment In My Head

writers block

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I feel like twitter and facebook have ruined my ability to blog. That, and my daily life is pretty routine. Nothing happens that can’t be summed up in a few sentences. I don’t feel the need to blog evry moment of every day. I don’t even update twitter daily. There’s also this pesky thing called a job and since I don’t make my money off blogging, writing tends to be put on the back burner. I’m not as angsty as I used to be either – I don’t feel the need to bitch about things on the internet or going on in the world. I read about them, I have my opinions, and then I move on.

To me, there’s other shit I should be doing instead of spending time writing. Or posting pictures on flickr (although I need to do that because that was more artistic expression and I miss it). I feel like I take time away from something else to write. But it’s not like my life is exciting. It’s not like I couldn’t squeeze another hour out of the day if I needed to. Somehow I’m always busy, but not in a taxing way. I’m certainly not lazy.

If I were to sum up this week, it would look like this:

Saturday: Dean worked till 4. I made ornaments with my mom and stayed in my pajamas till 4, then got together and Dean and I went to a friend’s house to watch the UFC fight, had heated debate with home owner about fantasy football.

Sunday: let Dean sleep in while I cleaned our abode, took the dog for a leisurely morning stroll, did more crafty goodness with ornaments, wreaths, and then cross stitched while watching documentaries. Got sucked into Game of Thrones on a whim since all of Season One was available in the On Demand menu. Went to bed late.

Monday: overslept, got to work late, worked all day, picked up clothes from Lane Bryant (free shipping to store!) after work, got home and took the dog out, prepared dinner, Dean came home and we went back to Game of Thrones.

Tuesday: repeat Monday except we had a squabble over text during the work day, walked the dog, when he got home we went to dinner to talk, resolved our issues, had a cute moment in the parking garage, back to Game of Thrones and finished the season which left us both going “WOAH!”

Wednesday: another repeat of work routine, returned/exchanged clothes at Lane Bryant, spent an extra hour in traffic due to bullshit, Dean had a company Christmas party so I went to Wendy’s for dinner, came home and took the dog out, then spent the evening on the bed putting laundry away, putting a Christmas music playlist together on the ipod for a road trip on Friday with mom, Dean came home, talked about our days, talked about gifts for everyone, and I reviewed the budget and bills while he flipped channels, went to bed.

Today: work. After work is my company Christmas party so I’ll go home, get dolled up, do any last minute small things I can do for tomorrow’s road trip, and then we’ll head out when Dean gets home. Party party party.

Tomorrow: Mom’s birthday present is a trip to Longwood Gardens in PA and it is now our annual mother-daughter routine. They have a stunningly beautiful light display, extraordinary floral displays in the green houses, Christmas song sing-alongs in the organ room, and various other holiday things. Home late.

Saturday: Dean will work and I will head out to get last minute requirements for gifts, come home and assemble them, and then wrap up. Then it will be helping the household prepare for guests and a day of fun on Sunday.

Sunday: My family’s version of Chanukah!

See? It’s all pretty routine. I mean part of me wants to detail things further. Like how mom and I made the wreaths. I do take pictures of everything still, I just don’t post them anywhere. I get it in my head that I’ll write a step-by-step of something, but then I say to myself “It’s been done – that’s how you figured out how to do this”. Still, it’s about personalizing the experience for yourself. Part of me wants to post more pictures, but when I’m writing, it’s usually not at my computer and I don’t have my pictures on hand. And then the biggest issue is I doubt myself. I just about deleted this whole entry because I didn’t think it was worth reading. You don’t even want to know how many posts I’ve deleted for that very same reason.

I do have two other blogs, but I post in them as frequently as I do in this one… about once a month. I guess with 3 blogs in total that means I’m about 3 posts a month. I feel odd dividing myself into 3 pieces, but I also feel like putting everything in one blog is weird. You can’t go from smut to pre-pregnancy issues to how to craft an ornament wreath without leaving people shaking their heads. That and I never know who will find what and I just don’t want to take the chance. I‘m giving you the option to find them and read for yourself, but not shoving them down your throat either. (You don’t have to look too closely to find them in this paragraph.)

And then I get to the point where I want to stop writing because I can’t think of anything else to say, but I have no closing line. You don’t even want to know how many entries have sat still because I can’t find a way to wrap them up. Maybe I’ll just start ending them all with “the end”. How about right now?

THE END!

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how my brain works – food budget

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See epic long entry prior to this to understand why I need the security of planning shit like this to keep me sane… even though this will sound completely insane.

Living together means eating together. He provides the cash and I provide the cooking, budgeting, and list making.

In an effort to prevent repeated meals, getting into a rut, and to save money by planning things out, we took a calendar and between the two of us we planned out 6 weeks worth of dinners. I’m not talking big descriptions, just something like “Beef Stroganoff” or “pasta night”.

The next step was to figure out how daily lunches fit into this. Then breakfasts. Then I allotted for a few nights in that time frame where other people are cooking (like Passover and Easter), where he’s bartending (random side job thats not steady) and when we’re going out with friends (going away dinner) and his birthday.

14 days with 3 meals a day is 42 meals for two people (so really 84) and of that about 10 are not coming out of our budget (my business trip is company paid, his birthday will be other people paying, bartending nights are leftovers nights, etc.)

Yes, this is how my brain works… I plan and I’m good at it, but I tend to over think it.

Breakfasts were easy – cereal for him, instant breakfast for me. Lunches were moderately challenging since we have different appetites but that was still easy and cheap. The dinners were a challenge because side dishes weren’t included in the generic calendar ideas. Fuck.

So first I made my lists of ingredients I’d need for each meal, then I thought of sides and added those ingredients in, and then went through those lists and consolidated into one very long grocery list. I mean LONG.

Today was shopping day and after a trip to Sams Club (bulk), Walmart (hello cheap!), and a pricey local grocery store for 5 measily ingredients, we got all but about $20 worth of stuff we HAVE to wait to buy for freshness sake.

Now the challenge will be to make this stuff last, but with fresh and canned fruit I can do the fresh stuff one week and canned the next, alternating snacks and alternating between sandwiches and leftovers, I think this is totally doable.

The next challenge? Making everything we bought fit in the apartment! We had to clean out the fridge, freezer, and pantry to do it, but it worked.

Yes, this is totally insane. Yes, I’m a nutball for needing to plan. No, I don’t regret it and damnit, we hit our budget! I did all of this for $250.34. 70ish meals for 2 weeks for 2 people for only $250!

Not only will we be eating healthy, but now (since we’re on a tight budget in order to save up for some things) there’s no money left which is actually a good thing because that means no trips to the grocery store for two whole weeks! No money left to splurge and regret to eat take out meals, buy junkfood, or stray off the plan. No more scrambling the last 30 minutes before the work day is over wondering “wtf am I gonna make for dinner?” and then scrambling to find groceries, a recipe, AND energy to cook. Now it’s “Oh look, i can make this this or this.” POOF! And it’s changable. After all the shopping today and the cleaning yesterday I was so fucking tired that I knew making a big dinner wasn’t happening so I picked a 30 minute meal and whipped up beef stroganoff. Easy peasy.

And damn it, I’m fucking proud of us! We did it together (the shopping part and some of the planning) and while he was all “ooooh shiny!” in the bulk store and wanted everything, I had to be the “no we’re up to $150 in this store and still need this many groceries” or “yes, I forgot that in the list so grab it.” But it still worked.

The next time I do this in two weeks, it will take half as long and pretty soon, I’ll have this down to a fine art. By the time we have kids in the picture, I’ll be a fucking professional at this shit!

fight club

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Being vague never works. In fact, Dean considers my vagueness to be “cryptic” and to him, being cryptic is equal to lying. To me, being vague is just my way of glossing over the little details that don’t mean shit in the long run. That difference of opinion is what lead to our first big fight. And it’s what lead to confusion about my last entry.

Fighting is something I hate. I grew up with nothing but fighting all around me. My parents were VERY young when they had me and my brother. They were married, had two kids, and divorced by the time they were 27/28. I was a toddler when they split. My only memories of my parents together are angry and violent and blurry. Then they split and girlfriends, boyfriends, and eventually stepparents came along. There was nothing but fighting. Nothing but petty bullshit always around them. Always arguing over custody, visitation, and who to bring around their kids. You think I have one single memory of my parents being happy? EVER? Nope!

And then, if my parents weren’t fighting with each other, they were fighting with my stepparents. There’s a reason my dad is on wife #4 and mom is on husband #2. Who the fuck knows if any of these relationships will last either. I think my mom and stepdad actually will, but I always question my dad and his wives. The second one, well I got a brother out of it so not a total loss. But the third one was such a horrible person that she earned the title of Stepmonster and eventually Stepcunt. She was/is pure evil.

You know what happens when your parents fight all the time and you’re left in charge of your younger sibling? You know what happens when you’re surrounded by hate and anger ALL THE TIME? You end up fighting with your sibling until you damn near kill each other. (Seriously, it was near death twice.) Eventually in high school, my brother and I stopped trying to kill each other and became very good friends. That was due to the loss of our stepbrother though. Story for another time.

Straight out of high school, I then proceeded to get involved with someone who I later found out was sexually abused as a child and as a result of that and my own inexperience, I let him do a lot of shit to me I shouldn’t have. He later became violent and physically abusive. We fought a lot and towards the end, those fights ended with me all bruised up. I took a 5 year break after that guy and then got involved with someone I later found out was emotionally abusive! Our fights only happened in the beginning of the relationship because I found out that if I dared to fight back, he would just leave and shut me out for anywhere from 1 to 3 weeks. He’d randomly vanish on me and go into lockdown mode for up to a month too if things got too tough. So essentially, I got involved with two abusive men for a combined total of 5 years and both of these men made fighting something I never ever wanted.

Now I’m with someone who loves to argue. To say that this is an adjustment phase with Dean is an understatement.

He loves to start fights, get his anger out, and move on. I fucking HATE fighting. I’m always afraid that one bad fight too many will result in the man leaving me. Why wouldn’t I have that fear???? Look at my parents! Look at my last two relationships! I don’t want it in my life anymore. I want to walk away from it. I will hold my tongue and be 100% silent if it means avoiding an argument.

A fighter and a non-fighter. This is not a working system.

The first couple fights with Dean were admittedly my fault. I have a lot to learn about being with a normal above average man who wants to know every detail, doesn’t want me to be vague, has issues of his own, and wants to grow together. It’s just that his method of getting to the change is to fight over it and my method is to talk it out. Guess who’s way ends up happening?

But the thing is, after these fights, I’ve changed my ways. That is not something he ever anticipated either. He never thought he’d be with a woman who could admit she was wrong and not only that, fix the things that made her wrong. He wasn’t asking for much, just an alternate way of speaking to him and making sure I was totally open with him. So once the confusion was over and the crying and yelling was over with, understand occurred and things changed. This is what every woman dreams of! This is the holy grail of relationships! Have a problem and resolve it! Who knew?!

I’ve started to appreciate the fighting between us for it’s true purpose of movement and growth. I don’t love it though. Especially now that I know what levels he’ll stoop to in order to win and argument even when he’s 100% wrong and *I* was the one who had the issue and he was totally in the doghouse. Don’t get me wrong… he’s been utterly amazing to me and he’s held his head up high when I’ve been a basket of hormonal rage or crippling sadness. He’s been there to hold an ice pack on the back of my neck while I sit on the toilet delirious with a fever. It was just one stupid misunderstanding that lead to another fight that lead to a weekend apart. He took that low road and it bit him in the ass because in the long run, something he said caused me to think too much and change my entire attitude. He scared the fuck out of me and that fear germinated into something else he wasn’t prepared for. Now he’s stuck with having to make a big decision. (And I WILL address this in another entry.)

In the end, we always end up talking things out, making changes, and helping each other understand what happened so we don’t do it again. In the end, I know he won’t just leave. I know this is all healthy and normal. I know I’m the one who has to make the changes internally to get past my fears. It’s just not easy and it takes a little trial and error to get through it.

the downward spiral clause

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While I do appreciate spontaneity here and there, over all I’m a total planner. Part of this came about as a solution from a therapist once upon a time when I was diagnosed with moderate OCD. One of the things I do is worry and worry and think and think and think until I lose my mind. This would happen for days on end and I’d lose sleep over it. So now, rather than spiral out of control, I come up with possible solutions. I usually need one solid plan and one or two back up plans.

Keeping that in mind, it should come as no surprise that the minute Dean and I started talking about a future, my brain kicked into over drive.

My lease ends December 2010. My job site is running through October 2011. We have x amount of money to pay for a wedding. I have X amount of support from X amount of people. Between us, we have 100 people to invite to a wedding. He wants this scenario, I want the opposite. My truck is paid off in June 2011. If he moves in with me for this time frame, I’ll move to where ever he wants at the end of that time frame. If I got pregnant in ______ the baby would be ______ months old max before the next lease is up. I have 3 months maternity leave as of January 1st, 2 of which are paid. We have X amount of time to save up X amount of money to move to a bigger place. We would move to _____.

And on and on and on. If, if, if. Pending, pending, pending. Blah, blah, blah.

In my head, I have 3 different scenarios lined up depending on what happens first and when it happens. This is all pending reality of course, but without that kind of potential planning, I can’t function. I will spiral down until I have a solution. If it’s something I can control (IE: getting pregnant and planning somewhat for how to raise our spawn the first few months) then it’s easier on me. When something happens thats out of my control? Holy shit, look out.

But this is why I love Dean so much… he’s a problem solver. He instantly swoops into action the minute something happens. He doesn’t plan future for shit, but he is phenomenal with the instant falling apart.

Case in point: when my ball joint popped out of the boot while driving.
My reaction went something along the lines of “oh God, I’m gonna miss work Monday. How am I gonna get home? How am I gonna pay for this? What am I gonna do? Who can drive me where? How much time off do I have left? Is it safe to drive back? Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!”
His reaction was more along the lines of instantly calling the repair guy to bring his welder in Monday morning to fix it (instead of the original plan of Tuesday evening) then calling his father to see if he had an extra car to borrow, then ordering the part. All of this in the 30 minutes I was spiraling out of control in my head.

On the surface my face scrunched and I was on the verge of crying. When we went to grab some food, he told me in the restaurant “you’re not allowed to be negative right now” and just flat out would not let me spiral any further. The solution was in hand, the secondary solution was also in hand, and he kept me on the positive side of things.

So as it turns out, I met and fell in love with someone who compliments my weak points and highlights my strong points. When I think about THAT fact, I know deep down that everything is going to be fine as long as we have each other. No matter what the situation, we’ll figure it out and not be stuck. One day my spiraling may even cease to exist.

I hope.

elle oh vee eee

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This love thing takes getting used to. Just saying that is weird for me because I’ve never been one to withhold love and I’m always so free with saying it. I’ve always been the loving one and always been good with emotions. But suddenly it’s like a foreign concept to me. It’s weird to go from not ever saying it to suddenly saying it every time you say good bye. Famine to feast. I mean how do you wrap your head around love when you’ve been deprived of it for so long?

It dawned on me that reason this is so off kilter to me is that I haven’t had a man tell me he loves me, and mean it, since 2003. Yes, you read that right… 2003. Seven and a half fucking years ago when I was with Ryan, before the abuse took a real turn for the worse. I can’t decide how to react to that. It’s simultaneously the most depressing fact of my life and one of the strongest.

I felt love with Chet, but not once did he say it to me. Not ONCE. Not even close. There was a bag for the earrings he got me that have hearts and printed “I love you”s on the on the bag. He refused to even say he picked out that bag. I mean that’s what I grew accustomed to. That, and just not being with anyone for so long prior to him. My first relationship (Ryan) was a first for EVERYTHING from the first kiss to the first black eye. I went on an anti-love slut spree after that. Then dating hell after that. Then another relationship.

From the day I met Ryan to the day I decided it was over with Chet, and entire decade had passed. A DECADE!

When I think about it, the only person in that decade of dating who ever came even remotely close to love was Stone and that was after my gallbladder surgery. He showed up and took care of me one night in many different ways and was the only man to be there for me in years. Actually, he had a lot of private, sweet, intimate moments and that’s a huge part of why I let our “relationship” carry on for 5 years. But it wasn’t true love.

I realize just how sad and empty my life sounds when I write it out like this, but I also realize how much of that I created, allowed to happen, and hid behind. I wasn’t ready to love again after Ryan. He destroyed my foundation of what I thought a man should be. I took revenge on him and myself by slutting it up. I found the validation I wanted, figured out my body, gained a fuck ton of self confidence and self esteem, and came out with flying colors. Then I had a heart ready to burst with love and moved on to Chet… only to ultimately be shut down. I didn’t realize it was an emotionally abusive relationship until the very end. I couldn’t figure out that my personal growth came with that price tag until I went through and looked at it with different eyes. I went through the controlling nature, the emotional instability, the constant shut downs and shut outs, the passive aggressive bullshit, the lack of intimacy… all of it. I may have grown by leaps and bounds, but I forgot a piece of myself in that relationship. I lost a big part of me that I forgot even existed…

…until Dean came along.

It’s like this light inside of me suddenly started to burn brighter. Suddenly some one is taking care of me. Some one is affectionate with me every single chance he gets. Some one freely admits he misses me and longs for my presence when I’m not there. Some one listens to me and comforts me when I have a bad dream, makes fun of me when I have an airhead moment, makes me laugh at the ridiculousness of life, will do a silly dance just to get me to smile, lets me dote on him, lets me be 100% of myself and be the goofy fool I can be, and makes me happy. I can watch him play some stupid computer game for hours so long as every now and then I can run my hands through his hair and rub his neck as long as I want. I can have my lazy Sunday as often as I want. I can drag him out and about to pretty much wherever I want, but also have someone who has his own life and has his own desires for what he wants to do. I have someone who loves me and lets me love him back.

I can’t be bitter about the past. I have to be grateful for the decade of bullshit leading up to it because had I not been cut off and shut out in so many ways, deprived of so many things, and experienced so much rotten behavior by other men, I would not be even half as appreciative of Dean as I am now. I really wouldn’t. I can’t even put into words how I feel about him some days. I cant ellaborate how this feels because it seems like there are no words accurate enough for it.

I know I’ve had impulsive moments and made rash decisions in the past, but I’ve also spent that time learning from each and every one of them. I’ve spent the last ten years growing and evolving into the woman I am now. All those little impulsive moments now seem 100% worth it when I think of the payout I’ve received in this man. It makes that decade totally fucking worth it.

Love is a beautiful thing.

turbo great

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So it turns out I cant write for shit lately. This seems to only happen when I’m deliriously happy. When I’m angry, bitchy, sad, depressed, or any other emotion I can pour out entry after entry. But when I’m happy? Its like my brain gets constipated. I can’t make the words come out of my head, through my fingers, and onto the screen. I’ve got half a dozen posts started right now, but can only get so far before I abandon them.

Basically the last few weeks have consisted of being courted by this really incredible guy who has shown me how great a relationship can be. If you were grading me on a scale of progression in men, I’d say I’ve gone from F- with Ryan to C with Chet to A++ with Dean. Naturally at the time, I felt that things were great as they were with Ryan – he was my first everything from first kiss to first black eye. Chet was the biggest learning lesson of my life and made me even stronger than I ever thought I could be. The problem is, I didn’t know how much more I could have in my life.

You dont know what you’ve been missing until you’re suddenly inundated with an abundance of greatness. Then you can’t help but look back at the past and see all the flaws. You don’t see all the bullshit you tolerated until you suddenly don’t have to deal with it and you no longer have to walk on eggshells.

Recently Dean and I have had a few conversations that lead to great outcomes. One of them lead to public declaration of our relationship (isn’t it ridiculous that it’s not official until it’s Facebook official?) and another one lead to him calming me down to such a degree that I actually cried. Why? Because I haven’t ever have a guy who gave enough of a shit to ask me how I am and not only that, but also to provide a solution to my woes AND make me feel better.

So really, Dean is this mega super turbo great guy who has me feeling stupid and giggly and nervous and excited and wonderful all at once. I look forward to each text message. I can’t wait for our brief evening chat on his ride home from work. I hate the distance some days. I miss him when he’s gone. It’s just… great.

Plus, the sex has been really fucking great and I’ve had entirely too much sweaty naked fun with that man. He’s doing his best at trying to break in my severely underused body, but thats another entry entirely that I’ve actually started to write already that I think might actually get finished soon.

And thats it really… I’m enjoying falling for a great guy and I’m really happy. 🙂

I ♥ You, bloggie

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I really love this little ♥/♣/♦-point style of posting. So much cuter than straight up bullet-points.

♥ In an effort to try and break free from the old and move on into the new, I changed my twitter account name last night. Okay, so really I had two all along. I kept one for bitching about the ex and then my main one. However, I didn’t want to lose my old name since it’s such a part of me so I basically just switched the usernames on the accounts. I know, very confusing. I’m now hexypea on twitter. I even added a widget to the blog over there →

♣ I wish I spoke dog more fluently. I have no idea how to make Nola happy some times and it frustrates me. I swear, kids might be easier than dogs. At least with human children they can speak, tell you what they want, can be left alone at a certain age, and at some point they move out. People who have children that have also met my dog have told me numerous times that yes, I’m ready for children. We shall see.

♦ My body is playing this fun little game with me now where I pretty much need to find a bathroom (urgently) within 20-120 minutes of completing a meal. It’s making me not want to eat much anymore. The only real perk of this: weight loss. But ultimately, all that is okay because…

♥ …I’m spending more money on gas than I am on food right now. I never thought I’d be so gung-ho to be the one to travel to the man, especially one who doesn’t live alone, but here I am jetting across the highway to hell beltway every chance I get.

♣ I’m starting to become bitter about my relationship with Chet. I don’t like mentioning him. I don’t even like saying his name anymore. I am grateful for the experience with him and could not have learned half the shit I did without him, but at the same time I am being treated so differently by Dean that I can’t help but see the glaringly obvious differences. I’m gonna have to start calling Chet “the ex” now I think.

♦ I don’t get along with caffeine anymore. Turns out this is the cause of all my insane breaking out. I get these deep down painful “please kill me” Mt. Vesuvius sized zits whenever I have more than a normal dose of caffeine. And forget coffee – that’s almost an instant killer. My lack of imbibing caffeine routinely is probably why one can of Diet Coke will keep me up well past my bedtime.

♥ Clearly I wore the wrong dress today because the skin just under my armpits is raw and red. And owie. Mayhaps I should lose the bra? (EDIT: bra gone!)

♣ My neighbors directly below me are always cooking delicious exotic foods. I don’t think they like AC because their screen door is always open, but this works in my favor because I am frequently intoxicated by delicious aromas whenever I walk out onto the balcony. Like right now, for instance, I’m writing this post on my wee outdoor table and i can smell something delightful being prepared.

♦ Dean is completely full of win. The other day I expressed my fierce desire for fresh ink and he said he’d draw on me with an ink pen when he saw me next. I’m going to hold him to this. Then tonight I asked him if he wanted to see one of the cutest things in the world and before I could send a link he said “yes, but I won’t see you till Saturday”. This little part of me thats completely girlie? Yeah it melted a little. (Seriously though, how cute is this little guy??? Squee indeed.)

♥ It is utterly beautiful outside right now. If every summer day had an evening as wonderful as this with perfect temps, a light breeze, and zero humidity, I’d like summer so much more. Being able to sit outside and enjoy a luxury like typing an entry on my laptop is a gift. You know, until my battery screams “Danger Will Robinson! Danger Will Robinson!” No really, it does that. Some times. Okay, not at all, but it should.

♣ I banked two massages through Massage Envy in order to use them for a hot stone massage and I am having that on Saturday. I’ve never done that before so this will be interesting experience. This far, my experience at M.E. has resulted in a male masseuse I made blush that had no idea what “not that hard” meant and then a woman who was deathly afraid of massaging the tushy and the feet. Failure times two. Let’s hope the next one knows what they are doing or I am gonna quit my membership.

♦ I think I need to go to the beach this weekend.

thunder and lightning (and a few random updates)

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A storm ripped through my area last night and after observing Nola, Lily, and Anubis sit by the balcony door watching everything whip around, rain pelt the deck, and lightning strike like strobe lights without so much as flinching, I realized just how fucking stellar my babies are.

It also reminded me of a few other things:

1.) Chet’s dog was/is afraid (among almost everything else on the planet) storms and would have made my life hell last night has this happened when he was around
2.) I hate that fucking dog and I’m glad he’s gone. No, seriously. I hate that dog.
3.) I don’t miss my former life by even one molecule.

I think it’s safe to say I’m 1,000,000% over Chet. I have even considered cutting ties with his brother in law Paul whom I’ve kept a sort of distant correspondence with. Really I did that for the kids because I adore them and I am very fond of Paul, but now I’m thinking… what’s the damn point? I mean it sucks for the kids, but there’s this piece of me that want’s to detach entirely from that entire piece of my life. I don’t want to be heartless, but I don’t want any more of my energy going to places it’s no longer needed. Then again, Paul was the only one in that family I actually liked hanging out with. Probably because we were both “outsiders” and he understood my quirks. So that is something to mull over and think on a bit.

Another thing stuck in my craw: there is a very big part of me that wants to go back and delete the DFL/Larry posts of this blog. I realize if I do that there’s a good chance I’ll regret it later, but I kinda want to anyway. Maybe it’s because when I think of that idiot, I get this coating of slime all over me and I don’t want any reason to think of him. Granted, D is kind of a permanent reminder of him because he is how we met, but that’s fading quickly. The reminders I mean. I’m going to see her in just 2 more weeks and I am looking forward to girl time on the beach for a few days. I need some fucking time off! Man. I realized yesterday I haven’t taken a paid day off just for since December of 2009. That’s 6 months! Oy. Story for another time.

So yeah… stuff to mull over. Not sure what to do. Ho hum.

Other updates:

The biteguard: has worked like a charm. I am no longer destroying my teeth or jaw and I have woken up pain free and nausea free for a solid month now. FUCK YES!

The guy from this entry that made me feel better turned out to be exactly what I predicted: completely and utterly full of shit. I gave up on him a while ago (like after the first date with Dean I think) but forgot to mention that here. And now I have. The end!

The vagina chronicles: I came back 100% clear for every test. No permanent disaster trail left from DFL and it was just an allergic reaction. I then proceeded to throw out all the feminine products I had left and then after taking them to the dumpster, it dawned on me that I COULD have donated them to a woman’s shelter. Whoops.

I think that covers all the tidbits I’ve forgotten to touch back on. If not… well then I’ll just edit this post again. Yay.

wasted away in Stupidville

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I’m officially in that stupid stage of the dating game.

It’s that part where you actually break all your own rules and allow yourself to become excited and happy. You allow an expectation to slip through or you allow yourself to become relaxed a bit . You may even go so far as to look forward to things. *gasp*

Why is this so bad? Because if something falls through, even the tiniest of somethings, it becomes a crushing wave of disappointment. When I get disappointed, I tend to spiral and spiraling is dangerous. Combine the stupid stage with PMS and basically there’s a war in my head right now.

The thing is, I know it’s completely ridiculous. This guy is not disappointing me. He’s actually kind of awesome. Okay, REALLY awesome. I can’t even remember the last time I met a guy who contacted me so much. It’s pretty much daily with Dean and I’m honestly not annoyed by it. At all. That’s another foreign feeling. I used to get so annoyed by constant contact. I felt smothered and closed in a box. Now I find myself looking forward to that text message to say hello or those moments of instant messaging when we both have the time or even that phone call here and there. He’s really good about it too.

I just can’t figure out where he’s at. I mean, are we dating? Three dates does NOT a relationship make, but from the start of this to today plus the consistency in contact, it’s been over a month. Damn, almost a month and a half. Does THAT make it something? And what’s that something? Is calling it “dating” something? Do I say “I’m seeing someone” when asked by another male? Oy the endless barrage of questions in my head.

I’m starting to get emotionally invested because I realized last night that I’ve cut off other guys, I’ve gotten stupid giggly over this one, and when he had to change weekend plans? Ummm yeah. I got disappointed. Right then and there I knew I was fucked.

Why am I even questioning anything? I already know the answer. The answer is shut the fuck up and enjoy it for what it is.

You know what else is foreign? Slow movement. I was slower with Chet than most guys and I was glad I waited to jump into bed with him, but this Dean guy? Yeah 3 dates before we even kissed. And what’s funny is that I LIKE how slow it’s going. I think that’s adding to the anticipation of seeing each other. I want to kiss him again. And again. I even dream about just making out! But I can’t just up and kiss him. There’s that distance thing and the slow thing. And the different schedules thing.

So in between the dates there’s contact and anticipation and the breaking of self-imposed rules and fuck, dude! Before I knew it, I found myself located in Stupidville. *le sigh*

my outlook

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Every one on earth can bitch about how awful their life is. Every one has a sob story. Every person has had “the worst year ever!”

You know what else every one has? The ability to shut the fuck up, get through the emotion of the situation, and grow from it. Obviously some things take longer than others to recover from, but really it all comes down to how you handle it in your head. The better you handle it and the better grasp you have of reality, the faster life rebounds. Ever notice how negativity begets negative or annoying people around you? You attract it. Same with positivity and a smile plastered to your face.

I won’t lie – I’ve had some fucking shitty years and had more than my fair share of heartache, disappoinment, death, and pain. The best thing you can do it either move forward and force yourself to find some thing, some tiny shred of positivity, from the experience or to remember the good times. I won’t say I’m perfect at this, but the more I practice, the better I get. It’s not easy. Some times you have to fake it till you make it. I can honestly say that faking an orgasm is a fuck of a lot easier than faking happiness, but I can also say that faking the happiness helped me discover other methods of dealing with things. And maybe it’s not so much faking happiness as it was just not being a bitch and not being angry all the time. I think it was more of a gradual process of angry > silent > blank > calm > happy.

So it’s not a perfect method, but I was at the end of my rope and had to figure out an alternative method because there was no way the people around me would change. You can’t ever expect someone to change – you can only change yourself and how you react.

This all started with Chet because I learned really fucking fast that if I started pitching a fit that the man would dodge a fight by up and leaving. Just pick and haul ass right out the door in a matter of 30 seconds and then cut me off for days. No contact whatsoever. Hindsight being 20/20, I can see how utterly immature this is, but have chosen to see how extremely fast it forced me to change the way I approached him. It changed everything when he initially broke up with me around the holidays. THAT was fun. Eventually we got back together and it was one of the harder things in my life to do. Yes, something so simple was damn near impossible to deal with.

Things constantly happened with us. I found out after a while that I was dealing with an extremely damaged man who had absolutely no ability to express his emotions. (I’m not 100% sure he truly had all those emotions either to tell you the truth.) In finding that out, I had to change the way I reacted and interacted with him. That’s what love does – it forces you to accept someone for who they are and work with it.

The problem is, I also began to realize the love was one-sided. I foolishly figured it would evolve and he would one day figure out that oh hey, I have an amazing woman in front of me. Better reel her in. But then… he just gave up.

Anyway, the point is that I started to change my outlook on things with Chet and then decided if I could handle him, I could handle anything. I started applying it elsewhere and then even included it in my working routine. After 3.5 years my overbearing ogre of a boss was suddenly less of a monster to me. I could finally visualize the end of our working relationship and just calmed the fuck down. What was the point in arguing with him and being miserable every single day??? Same with Chet – what was the fucking point of arguing if I got absolutely NOWHERE? I sure as shit didn’t feel better when I yelled because nothing changed.

And some people will never be effected by how you change – only by themselves. Chet never changed, my boss never changed, my father never will change… but I did and now? Now I’m one happy human being. None of that shit even phases me half the time. Deadlines at work are less stressful and I don’t get nearly as angry with my coworkers as I ever did.

Because I dealt with stubborn, angry, overbearing assholes on a daily basis, I became a stronger, happier, more well-balanced human being. My outlook completely changed.