Oh, yes indeed.
It's back.
Introducing...
30 March 2007
29 March 2007
Dreaming of Me
I have always felt like writing about my dreams would be too personal, any one who knows me, understands how important I believe dreams are, and how intensely personal they can be.
There have been times recently when a friend has said, "I had the strangest dreams last night." And, either I didn't ask, or I was very hesitant, as much as I'd like to know... I don't think its fair of me to casually say, "oh really? what was it about?" When that friend has no idea how much they are really opening up to me, how much telling me about their dreams can potentially tell me about them.
This morning when I woke up it occurred to me that all my dreams in the last few weeks have been conversations with different friends. In some, the setting and situation is enough to tell me all I need to know... the words weren't the important part. In others, the setting and situation is so bland (like sitting at a kitchen table), that I know the conversation was the important part. In all of them, I can't remember a single darn word.
I've trained myself over the years to remember the details; colors, shapes, sounds, smells, impressions, emotions. Those are the things I usually pull from the 'big picture' to help me interpret the concept of the dream. At times, there are "bits and scraps of conversation," usually specific phrases, that will stick with me. Recently though, I awake with nothing but an image of the person, and the knowledge that I've had an important conversation.
There have been times recently when a friend has said, "I had the strangest dreams last night." And, either I didn't ask, or I was very hesitant, as much as I'd like to know... I don't think its fair of me to casually say, "oh really? what was it about?" When that friend has no idea how much they are really opening up to me, how much telling me about their dreams can potentially tell me about them.
This morning when I woke up it occurred to me that all my dreams in the last few weeks have been conversations with different friends. In some, the setting and situation is enough to tell me all I need to know... the words weren't the important part. In others, the setting and situation is so bland (like sitting at a kitchen table), that I know the conversation was the important part. In all of them, I can't remember a single darn word.
I've trained myself over the years to remember the details; colors, shapes, sounds, smells, impressions, emotions. Those are the things I usually pull from the 'big picture' to help me interpret the concept of the dream. At times, there are "bits and scraps of conversation," usually specific phrases, that will stick with me. Recently though, I awake with nothing but an image of the person, and the knowledge that I've had an important conversation.
I am so frustrated that I can't remember the words, not even a phrase. I know its all somewhere in my brain, and a part of me knows exactly what was said. I'm sure at some point I will have the information at hand, and be able to use it when its needed. But, for now, I'm just annoyed.
28 March 2007
The Agony & The Irony
blink... blink... blink...
stupid blinking little bastard cursor. just sitting there, not helping at all.
seriously? how long can writer's block last? what's wrong with me? is it the sunshine? maybe i'm overdosing on sunshine. yeah, sure, that's it.
blink... blink... blink...
even my little notebook only has one little (recent) note in it, and I can't bring myself to look at that note because I remember writing it down, and I'm pretty sure I won't be expanding on the idea. at least not right now.
blink... blink... blink...
I suppose I could spew rainbows a little more. have enough sunshine blown up your butt yet? most of my recent blogs are starting to make me sound sound like Rainbow Brite... they're even making me a little nauseated. gah.
blink... blink... blink...
stinkin' Muse. how in the world did you get me to write a post about writers block, while I was blocked? this is all your fault. enjoy! I'm not bothering with proper capitalization or punctuation just to bug you, even the grammar is a bit shoddy. so there.
blink... blink... blink...
damn.
27 March 2007
Disappearing Giddy
I always told myself this blog was solely mine. No posts about the Short Bus (unless they were inappropriate for his blog), he has his own place on the web... that is for him, this is for me. But, sometimes (most times) our lives are one. It is very difficult to post about me and not include him. Honestly, I thought it would be easier.
At times, having my own space on the "internets" is nearly as difficult as NOT having my own space here. There are posts that don't belong in either place. Yet, I still want to write them.
The Muse pointed out earlier today that I hadn't posted about the Short Bus in a long time. And, yes, I know I haven't. Because things in my life have been so chaotic, I haven't posted specifically about him. Maybe that makes me a bad mom, maybe it just makes me a slacker in chronicling his life. Maybe for the first time since I became pregnant (three plus years ago) I am finally taking some time for myself.
Its funny, I have friends that to this day say, "its like magic, one day I heard you were pregnant, and now you have a two-year old. How did that happen anyway?" Yes, it was like magic... for a lot of people. Between faires, I got pregnant, had a kid, and returned as if nothing happened (a little fatter, a little milkier, yet, still the same person they had always known). It was by design (not the pregnancy, but the fact that I went into seclusion).
Honestly, I'm still trying to figure out why I spent ten months in hiding. I feel like I have so many reasons, so many explanations, yet none of them are exactly right. I really am starting to think that the "why" doesn't really matter though.
At times, having my own space on the "internets" is nearly as difficult as NOT having my own space here. There are posts that don't belong in either place. Yet, I still want to write them.
The Muse pointed out earlier today that I hadn't posted about the Short Bus in a long time. And, yes, I know I haven't. Because things in my life have been so chaotic, I haven't posted specifically about him. Maybe that makes me a bad mom, maybe it just makes me a slacker in chronicling his life. Maybe for the first time since I became pregnant (three plus years ago) I am finally taking some time for myself.
Its funny, I have friends that to this day say, "its like magic, one day I heard you were pregnant, and now you have a two-year old. How did that happen anyway?" Yes, it was like magic... for a lot of people. Between faires, I got pregnant, had a kid, and returned as if nothing happened (a little fatter, a little milkier, yet, still the same person they had always known). It was by design (not the pregnancy, but the fact that I went into seclusion).
Honestly, I'm still trying to figure out why I spent ten months in hiding. I feel like I have so many reasons, so many explanations, yet none of them are exactly right. I really am starting to think that the "why" doesn't really matter though.
I'm back. And, I'm not going anywhere ever again.
Carpe Diem
So as I'm sitting here watching the little blinking cursor... the same way I have nearly every day for the past week (ugh)... a song I haven't heard in years comes on the radio.
Baz Luhrmann's Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)
[just for fun, here's the link to the Wikipedia article]
As I'm listening, I'm thinking about the first time I heard the song, and how much the general meaning hasn't changed, but I have. Though I understood and appreciated the advice when I was in my 20's, I understand it in a totally different way in my 30's.
No matter how you perceive the lyrics, it is still some of the best advice I've ever heard, and I thought I would like to remind you all of it (or, for those who have no idea what I'm talking about... introduce you to it).
Life is short. Enjoy the ride, but don't ever forget that you are in the driver's seat. Buy that remote controlled helicopter, open the bottle of wine without a label, spend way too much money on concert tickets for your favorite band, enjoy your travels even if you have to spend most of your time working, and most of all, do everything you can to love who you are right now.
Take the opportunities which are presented to you every day, and make the most of them. You only get one chance.
readygo.
Baz Luhrmann's Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)
[just for fun, here's the link to the Wikipedia article]
As I'm listening, I'm thinking about the first time I heard the song, and how much the general meaning hasn't changed, but I have. Though I understood and appreciated the advice when I was in my 20's, I understand it in a totally different way in my 30's.
No matter how you perceive the lyrics, it is still some of the best advice I've ever heard, and I thought I would like to remind you all of it (or, for those who have no idea what I'm talking about... introduce you to it).
Life is short. Enjoy the ride, but don't ever forget that you are in the driver's seat. Buy that remote controlled helicopter, open the bottle of wine without a label, spend way too much money on concert tickets for your favorite band, enjoy your travels even if you have to spend most of your time working, and most of all, do everything you can to love who you are right now.
Take the opportunities which are presented to you every day, and make the most of them. You only get one chance.
readygo.
19 March 2007
Peering Into the Abyss
At some point over the last couple of weeks I started to think about pieces of my personality that seem to have been lost over the years. Bits and pieces which I thought had died off over time, seem to be returning. Slowly poking their heads out from the little padded cells I stowed them in (ya know, for safe keeping), their little voices reminding me that they are still alive, and have been waiting for the chance to safely exist again.
There is one facet I'm concerned about more than any: "The Girl." Though young, she isn't necessarily a child. Though relatively new, she isn't necessarily foolish. But, she is that part of me which likes love, romance, general schmoopyness. The part of me which allows me to reach out and touch someone, the part which allows my heart to flutter over those intimate moments, displays of affection, random sweet acts. The Girly part. Over the weekend, I started to see her try to surface a couple of times. I could hear her sweet voice chiming, "Do you think it's safe yet? Can I come out and enjoy life for a minute? Please?"
The logical, realistic, analytical part of me would tell her, "No, no, no, you have emotions, and you have expectations of love, and I don't know if you ground yourself in reality. Besides, I'm not sure I can remember how to protect you... just stay in your room. Its easier that way."
And she, being somewhat sane and mature (as much as The Girly part of any of us can be), looks with awe and respect at The Realist and says "ok, but I'm going to check again in a few minutes." Of course, The Realist ignores that little comment, and goes on dealing with life in a straightforward way.
So, I consider her, I remember her as one would a long lost friend. I know The Girl is a good part of me, a romantic, lovely, complex part... a part that is healthy and gives The Realist, The Tomboy, The Social Butterfly, and The Spontaneous sides (among others) balance. But, I also remember her as the most sensitive, easily hurt, easily confused part. I put her in her little sound proof padded cell so long ago, I'm afraid she never quite formed callouses over her battle wounds (which were few, and healed quickly). She's soft, and I'm afraid she wouldn't do well in the Real World.
Unfortunately, since I unwittingly unlocked her door a few weeks ago, she's become more and more daring. At first just opening the door, peeking her head out, looking around, and then going back in (door closed). Then later, doing whatever girly stuff she does in there, but leaving the door open, and allowing the sights and sounds of the world to exist in her space without too much of her intrusion on that world.
Now, she's beginning to venture out on occasion, she's becoming a bit more vocal about having some freedom, and some experiences. Even though I've warned her to stay back so she doesn't get any mud spattered on her pretty shoes, she just teases me by taking off the shoes and running around barefoot.
Ugh. Girls.
Where did I put that darn key?
There is one facet I'm concerned about more than any: "The Girl." Though young, she isn't necessarily a child. Though relatively new, she isn't necessarily foolish. But, she is that part of me which likes love, romance, general schmoopyness. The part of me which allows me to reach out and touch someone, the part which allows my heart to flutter over those intimate moments, displays of affection, random sweet acts. The Girly part. Over the weekend, I started to see her try to surface a couple of times. I could hear her sweet voice chiming, "Do you think it's safe yet? Can I come out and enjoy life for a minute? Please?"
The logical, realistic, analytical part of me would tell her, "No, no, no, you have emotions, and you have expectations of love, and I don't know if you ground yourself in reality. Besides, I'm not sure I can remember how to protect you... just stay in your room. Its easier that way."
And she, being somewhat sane and mature (as much as The Girly part of any of us can be), looks with awe and respect at The Realist and says "ok, but I'm going to check again in a few minutes." Of course, The Realist ignores that little comment, and goes on dealing with life in a straightforward way.
So, I consider her, I remember her as one would a long lost friend. I know The Girl is a good part of me, a romantic, lovely, complex part... a part that is healthy and gives The Realist, The Tomboy, The Social Butterfly, and The Spontaneous sides (among others) balance. But, I also remember her as the most sensitive, easily hurt, easily confused part. I put her in her little sound proof padded cell so long ago, I'm afraid she never quite formed callouses over her battle wounds (which were few, and healed quickly). She's soft, and I'm afraid she wouldn't do well in the Real World.
Unfortunately, since I unwittingly unlocked her door a few weeks ago, she's become more and more daring. At first just opening the door, peeking her head out, looking around, and then going back in (door closed). Then later, doing whatever girly stuff she does in there, but leaving the door open, and allowing the sights and sounds of the world to exist in her space without too much of her intrusion on that world.
Now, she's beginning to venture out on occasion, she's becoming a bit more vocal about having some freedom, and some experiences. Even though I've warned her to stay back so she doesn't get any mud spattered on her pretty shoes, she just teases me by taking off the shoes and running around barefoot.
Ugh. Girls.
Where did I put that darn key?
16 March 2007
15 March 2007
Nice To Meet You.
This evening was spent at my very best friend's house... we drank martinis, listened to music, made dinner together ... it was wonderful. She's been working on a project for her mom's 60th birthday party (shhhh its a surprise), a 'this is your life' style DVD slide show, and she wanted me to watch what she had so far.
It was beautiful. She really did a great job, the perfect song, the right number of pictures, really excellent. It took everything I had not to start crying when I noticed that over half the pictures were her mom and dad together.
What kind of slide show will my son put together when I turn 60?
One of the most difficult things about this divorce is the thought that I will now never celebrate a 50th wedding anniversary. I will never be one of 'those' couples... and I always assumed I would be. My parents are still married, soon to be ex-hubby's parents are still married, my best friend's parents are still married... although most everyone else I know has step-parents (and in some cases two or three times over), divorce is still something that seems odd to me. It has never really been a part of my world.
For as long as I've known this was coming, I always hoped something would change, something would make this relationship right, something would just click, and my marriage would be the relationship I've always expected. Now, it just seems odd that I could have lived for so long in my own head, imagined what I wanted, and made it my reality for so many years.
Honestly, I am happy with my decision. I know it is the right thing. I know it is the best thing for all of us. I know I can't change the past, and thus I do not dwell on the 'would have, could have, should have' part of my current situation. But, even though I have thought the word 'divorce' for years, and I started the process a month and a half ago... I was actually only able to say it out loud for the first time three (-ish) weeks ago. The concept is difficult, and at times, hard to accept.
I spent so many years painting a picture... appearing to be the ideal... modeling the "right" relationship. I was the 'perfect wife'... and by design. His friends and co-workers wanted me, their wives wanted to be my friend, his family loved me as their own. I was exactly who they all expected me to be. I acted so well, sometimes I even amazed myself. For so many years I was "The" wife. Now, there are many people who are shocked at what is happening, shocked that this could ever happen between "us." People who seem to think I'm going through a phase... people who think I've gone "crazy."
Really, I can't wait to get the chance to let them all know that I've finally gone "sane."
It was beautiful. She really did a great job, the perfect song, the right number of pictures, really excellent. It took everything I had not to start crying when I noticed that over half the pictures were her mom and dad together.
What kind of slide show will my son put together when I turn 60?
One of the most difficult things about this divorce is the thought that I will now never celebrate a 50th wedding anniversary. I will never be one of 'those' couples... and I always assumed I would be. My parents are still married, soon to be ex-hubby's parents are still married, my best friend's parents are still married... although most everyone else I know has step-parents (and in some cases two or three times over), divorce is still something that seems odd to me. It has never really been a part of my world.
For as long as I've known this was coming, I always hoped something would change, something would make this relationship right, something would just click, and my marriage would be the relationship I've always expected. Now, it just seems odd that I could have lived for so long in my own head, imagined what I wanted, and made it my reality for so many years.
Honestly, I am happy with my decision. I know it is the right thing. I know it is the best thing for all of us. I know I can't change the past, and thus I do not dwell on the 'would have, could have, should have' part of my current situation. But, even though I have thought the word 'divorce' for years, and I started the process a month and a half ago... I was actually only able to say it out loud for the first time three (-ish) weeks ago. The concept is difficult, and at times, hard to accept.
I spent so many years painting a picture... appearing to be the ideal... modeling the "right" relationship. I was the 'perfect wife'... and by design. His friends and co-workers wanted me, their wives wanted to be my friend, his family loved me as their own. I was exactly who they all expected me to be. I acted so well, sometimes I even amazed myself. For so many years I was "The" wife. Now, there are many people who are shocked at what is happening, shocked that this could ever happen between "us." People who seem to think I'm going through a phase... people who think I've gone "crazy."
Really, I can't wait to get the chance to let them all know that I've finally gone "sane."
14 March 2007
Happy Whatever Day
Ah yes... 3/14....
Pi Day
also...
Steak & BJ day
I'm just assuming here, but Steak & BJ day... very likely not celebrated by the same people who celebrate Pi day. Although, maybe if those guys would not admit they celebrate Pi day, they could spend some time celebrating... with a steak.
Just sayin.
Happy day, no matter which you celebrate.
Me... I'm totally having steak for dinner.
Pi Day
also...
Steak & BJ day
I'm just assuming here, but Steak & BJ day... very likely not celebrated by the same people who celebrate Pi day. Although, maybe if those guys would not admit they celebrate Pi day, they could spend some time celebrating... with a steak.
Just sayin.
Happy day, no matter which you celebrate.
Me... I'm totally having steak for dinner.
13 March 2007
Duck Snot Armor
And, lo she did issue forth the battle cry of her people, "DUCK SNOT!" Charging into battle with her head held high, a brief case full of paperwork, a heart full of trepidation, and a flouncy little polka-dot skirt (because confidence is half the battle), our hero pushes forth on her quest for freedom.
She sat and smiled, while seething internally, and imagining scenes of carnage in her wake. The vision of throwing him out the window and into the slough burned into her conscious. While all the time, appearing confident, calm, collected. This is how she will fight the war. Each battle, biding her time, not taking the bait... waiting for the perfect time to pounce (and no, not in a good way).
But wait! The girl did not realize she had such powerful allies! A hidden minion to assist in the battle, to help her win the war. A wizard so strong, even the opposition had no choice but to listen to the words of her incantation and believe..."the law is very clear, my son... follow it into the truth, and you will see the errors in your thinking. Let the law show you power and logic."
And thus the battle was waged, and yes, my friends, your trusty heroine will forever remain victorious.
Oh! And I got some really cute new shoes today too.
She sat and smiled, while seething internally, and imagining scenes of carnage in her wake. The vision of throwing him out the window and into the slough burned into her conscious. While all the time, appearing confident, calm, collected. This is how she will fight the war. Each battle, biding her time, not taking the bait... waiting for the perfect time to pounce (and no, not in a good way).
But wait! The girl did not realize she had such powerful allies! A hidden minion to assist in the battle, to help her win the war. A wizard so strong, even the opposition had no choice but to listen to the words of her incantation and believe..."the law is very clear, my son... follow it into the truth, and you will see the errors in your thinking. Let the law show you power and logic."
And thus the battle was waged, and yes, my friends, your trusty heroine will forever remain victorious.
Oh! And I got some really cute new shoes today too.
08 March 2007
I Blame Drew.
Drew has been on my mind quite a bit lately... (for those who don't know who Drew is, he is my friend who died from Leukemia last November).
In the final months of his life, I watched him live his life, watched him go and do. He traveled, bought things he'd always wanted, did the things he wanted to do. Illness be damned, he did the things that were important to him.
About a week before he died, we were talking about some of the places he'd been to, some of the things he had done, and he told me that one of the most important facets of all the traveling he had been doing had been his companions. That he was able to take his girlfriend and best friends with him to places like Hawaii and Disneyland, that he was able to visit and spend time with great friends in SoCal, was the important part. Also, it was one of the things that struck me hardest.
I came across a great blog written by California Girl this morning, and really started thinking about my life in general. Drew, being exactly my age, brought the idea of mortality into the foreground of my life in a way I had never examined. His brilliant attitude, and shining personality, have always caused me to think, and now I think about the concept of being in an entirely different way.
I have, over the last few months, been making an effort to surround myself with the people I love the most. Because, if I were to die tomorrow, I want to know that I'd made the most of the time I did have by spending it with the people I care about. It is part of the reason I've been making such huge changes in my life.
Thanks to Drew for staying up late nights with me at faire and having a glass of champagne when no one was looking (or being my body guard when a scary someone IS looking).
Thanks to The Muse, for being one of the best friends I've ever had, and providing me with an amazing amount of support (not to mention a healthy dose of paranoia).
Thanks to Tela for being Tela (and all the amazing things that go along with that), and being home right now.
Thanks to CSB for putting up with my eccentricities, making me laugh, and generally sharing yourself and your time with me.
Thanks to Jessa for being an amazing and inspiring spirit in my life.
Thanks to T for all the listening and sharing, and the quiet moments too.
Thanks to Jill for going through it all with me, being there to hold my hand when we both need it.
Thanks to Cami for finding me, friending me, and reminding me that sometimes the past is worth resurrecting.
Thanks for the inspiration, each and every one of you.
Thanks to everyone who reads, calls, writes, and is a part of my life right now, for listening and sharing, and loving me through the good times and bad.
I love you all. I really do. And, if I were to die tomorrow, the most important thing to me is that you all know that you are part of my life by choice, and you are dearly loved and truly appreciated.
In the final months of his life, I watched him live his life, watched him go and do. He traveled, bought things he'd always wanted, did the things he wanted to do. Illness be damned, he did the things that were important to him.
About a week before he died, we were talking about some of the places he'd been to, some of the things he had done, and he told me that one of the most important facets of all the traveling he had been doing had been his companions. That he was able to take his girlfriend and best friends with him to places like Hawaii and Disneyland, that he was able to visit and spend time with great friends in SoCal, was the important part. Also, it was one of the things that struck me hardest.
I came across a great blog written by California Girl this morning, and really started thinking about my life in general. Drew, being exactly my age, brought the idea of mortality into the foreground of my life in a way I had never examined. His brilliant attitude, and shining personality, have always caused me to think, and now I think about the concept of being in an entirely different way.
I have, over the last few months, been making an effort to surround myself with the people I love the most. Because, if I were to die tomorrow, I want to know that I'd made the most of the time I did have by spending it with the people I care about. It is part of the reason I've been making such huge changes in my life.
Thanks to Drew for staying up late nights with me at faire and having a glass of champagne when no one was looking (or being my body guard when a scary someone IS looking).
Thanks to The Muse, for being one of the best friends I've ever had, and providing me with an amazing amount of support (not to mention a healthy dose of paranoia).
Thanks to Tela for being Tela (and all the amazing things that go along with that), and being home right now.
Thanks to CSB for putting up with my eccentricities, making me laugh, and generally sharing yourself and your time with me.
Thanks to Jessa for being an amazing and inspiring spirit in my life.
Thanks to T for all the listening and sharing, and the quiet moments too.
Thanks to Jill for going through it all with me, being there to hold my hand when we both need it.
Thanks to Cami for finding me, friending me, and reminding me that sometimes the past is worth resurrecting.
Thanks for the inspiration, each and every one of you.
Thanks to everyone who reads, calls, writes, and is a part of my life right now, for listening and sharing, and loving me through the good times and bad.
I love you all. I really do. And, if I were to die tomorrow, the most important thing to me is that you all know that you are part of my life by choice, and you are dearly loved and truly appreciated.
06 March 2007
Just Because...
Just because I don't feel the need to justify my behavior, it doesn't mean my behaviors aren't appropriate.
Just because I haven't seen you in over a month, doesn't mean I haven't thought about you daily, and wanted to be there.
Just because you don't understand my feelings, it doesn't make them wrong.
Just because I refuse to explain myself, doesn't make my actions any less real.
Just because I said it was "something I said out of habit", doesn't mean it isn't true.
Just because I'm not talking, doesn't mean I'm bored.
Just because I thought of it while I was in the shower, doesn't make it dirty.
Just because you aren't here, doesn't mean you aren't with me.
Just because I don't care where we go or what we do, it doesn't mean I don't care about spending time with you.
Just because I have dreams and wishes, doesn't mean I don't live in reality.
Just because I want something, doesn't mean I necessarily like it.
Just because I don't need to prove anything to you, doesn't mean I haven't proven anything to myself.
Just because you don't believe in me, doesn't mean I won't.
Just because I haven't seen you in over a month, doesn't mean I haven't thought about you daily, and wanted to be there.
Just because you don't understand my feelings, it doesn't make them wrong.
Just because I refuse to explain myself, doesn't make my actions any less real.
Just because I said it was "something I said out of habit", doesn't mean it isn't true.
Just because I'm not talking, doesn't mean I'm bored.
Just because I thought of it while I was in the shower, doesn't make it dirty.
Just because you aren't here, doesn't mean you aren't with me.
Just because I don't care where we go or what we do, it doesn't mean I don't care about spending time with you.
Just because I have dreams and wishes, doesn't mean I don't live in reality.
Just because I want something, doesn't mean I necessarily like it.
Just because I don't need to prove anything to you, doesn't mean I haven't proven anything to myself.
Just because you don't believe in me, doesn't mean I won't.
04 March 2007
On Feeling Alive
Great friends.
Good food.
Good wine.
Sweet parting.
Yummy beer.
Lovely music.
Warm fire.
Tender touch.
Hot coffee.
Nice chatting.
Laughing & Crying... happy & excited.
Unbearable impatience.
Sitting, staring at a blank screen.
Smiling to myself (inside and out).
Knowing.
Life is truly to be lived.
Jumping in with both feet, and my eyes open.
There are times when words just won't do. I have no way to express how thankful I am, what my emotional state is, how heavily the good is outweighing the bad. How much I am looking forward to each new day when I lay down to go to sleep at night. I haven't done that in years.
In late December, I had a therapist tell me, "I really don't think you are physically or chemically depressed, you are what I would call 'situationally' depressed."
And I was, for years... I just didn't know it. Since I have started taking steps to change my situation, I haven't been "depressed" (sad at times, hurt at times, even guilty at times, but not depressed), as a matter of fact, it has been like a fog is slowly lifting. The weight and tension in the air is receding, and I'm seeing shafts of sunlight breaking through clouds which once only held a tiny gleam of silver lining.
Good food.
Good wine.
Sweet parting.
Yummy beer.
Lovely music.
Warm fire.
Tender touch.
Hot coffee.
Nice chatting.
Laughing & Crying... happy & excited.
Unbearable impatience.
Sitting, staring at a blank screen.
Smiling to myself (inside and out).
Knowing.
Life is truly to be lived.
Jumping in with both feet, and my eyes open.
There are times when words just won't do. I have no way to express how thankful I am, what my emotional state is, how heavily the good is outweighing the bad. How much I am looking forward to each new day when I lay down to go to sleep at night. I haven't done that in years.
In late December, I had a therapist tell me, "I really don't think you are physically or chemically depressed, you are what I would call 'situationally' depressed."
And I was, for years... I just didn't know it. Since I have started taking steps to change my situation, I haven't been "depressed" (sad at times, hurt at times, even guilty at times, but not depressed), as a matter of fact, it has been like a fog is slowly lifting. The weight and tension in the air is receding, and I'm seeing shafts of sunlight breaking through clouds which once only held a tiny gleam of silver lining.
01 March 2007
Chaaaaaaaaaaarge!!
Over the last couple of weeks The Muse and I decided that I needed a battle cry. Something to yell in the times when I need some extra strength... something powerful, stress relieving, and meaningful.
We started with "FuckYoooooooooou." It was the simple and obvious answer, if not somewhat antagonizing, and totally NOT child appropriate. It worked.... until I realized that I could really only scream it in my head, and I needed something I could actually use in reality. That's when The Muse came up with....
"DUCK SNOT!!!!!!!!!"
At first I laughed at him. Duck Snot? Really? This is a battle cry appropriate for ME? hmmm.
But, now that I've used it for a couple of days, I've realized it is always appropriate, always helpful, and always infuses a bit of humor into an otherwise potentially upsetting situation. Yes, Duck Snot. And I really don't care if Short Bus starts saying it too... I figure it can be a tribal battle cry. Why the heck not.
Since the inception of this idea, I've been able to help another friend (who is going through a similar situation) come up with her battle cry.... "Frog Breath!!" (yes, she has kids too).
So, all this prompted The Muse to inspire yet another blog (thanks, smarty pants)... I would love to know what everyone else's battle cry is.
If you don't currently have one, it is time to come up with one.
We all need a battle cry.
What is yours?
We started with "FuckYoooooooooou." It was the simple and obvious answer, if not somewhat antagonizing, and totally NOT child appropriate. It worked.... until I realized that I could really only scream it in my head, and I needed something I could actually use in reality. That's when The Muse came up with....
"DUCK SNOT!!!!!!!!!"
At first I laughed at him. Duck Snot? Really? This is a battle cry appropriate for ME? hmmm.
But, now that I've used it for a couple of days, I've realized it is always appropriate, always helpful, and always infuses a bit of humor into an otherwise potentially upsetting situation. Yes, Duck Snot. And I really don't care if Short Bus starts saying it too... I figure it can be a tribal battle cry. Why the heck not.
Since the inception of this idea, I've been able to help another friend (who is going through a similar situation) come up with her battle cry.... "Frog Breath!!" (yes, she has kids too).
So, all this prompted The Muse to inspire yet another blog (thanks, smarty pants)... I would love to know what everyone else's battle cry is.
If you don't currently have one, it is time to come up with one.
We all need a battle cry.
What is yours?
The Silver Lining...
So, after being up all night (literally 2:30 am) arguing with the "soon to be ex", I got up this morning, and dove head first into legal paperwork and all kinds of icky mumbo-jumbo. Finally got it all sorted out, ran it all past the Man (we actually agreed on everything... amazing), and decided to go down and file for the divorce today. But, they only take cash or money order, so off to the bank first.
This was the first time I had been into the bank since they were told about the impending divorce. It is a teeny little Credit Union, manager and one full-time/one part-time teller. I've been banking there for about 12 years, the manager started as a teller probably 10 or so years ago. Needless to say she knows me VERY well. I have invited her to my house for parties, we hang out at union picnics and barbecues, we're cool.
So, I go in, she waves me over, and we huddle up at the little table in the corner. We chat for a while about all the divorce stuff, everything going on, I ask her a few questions about money, and find out that I CAN have an account there even after the divorce is final (I thought I couldn't since I'm not a union member).
I kind-of laughed when she said I could have an account, and said, well I don't have anything right now... no job, no money, but I'm looking, so you'll be among the first to know if I find something.
She says, "seriously, you're looking for a job?"
I say, "yep."
She says, "part-time ok?"
I say, "right now I'll take anything so I can have some money and move out of the house."
She says, "my part-timer just gave me two-weeks notice Monday, how do you feel about 15-20 hours a week at $12 an hour?"
I say, "where do I sign?"
Bwaaaaaaaahahahahahahaha! So, I'm going to take my filled out application back tomorrow morning, but I all but have the job. Just have to take care of the official stuff, and find some kind of day-care or preschool for Jake (ack!).
So, the rest of the story goes... I go down to the court house, find a brilliant parking spot. Walk right in, no line, get to the counter (yay! I went to the right place), hand the lady the paperwork, and she says, "wow, are you a document assistant or something?"
I say, "nope. just very organized." She's all about, "wow, this is great!" Takes the paperwork, takes the money, and badda boom... in six months from today (September 1, 2007) I will be officially divorced.
And, I feel really good about it.
I'm going to make some calls, find someone to take me out to dinner and celebrate tonight or tomorrow night... I'm in the mood!
Tomorrow, I have an appointment with a real estate agent to discuss my options, and the possibility of my buying a condo sometime in the next few months. I'm pretty excited about it!
My head is still spinning! *insert crazy goofy happy dance here*
This was the first time I had been into the bank since they were told about the impending divorce. It is a teeny little Credit Union, manager and one full-time/one part-time teller. I've been banking there for about 12 years, the manager started as a teller probably 10 or so years ago. Needless to say she knows me VERY well. I have invited her to my house for parties, we hang out at union picnics and barbecues, we're cool.
So, I go in, she waves me over, and we huddle up at the little table in the corner. We chat for a while about all the divorce stuff, everything going on, I ask her a few questions about money, and find out that I CAN have an account there even after the divorce is final (I thought I couldn't since I'm not a union member).
I kind-of laughed when she said I could have an account, and said, well I don't have anything right now... no job, no money, but I'm looking, so you'll be among the first to know if I find something.
She says, "seriously, you're looking for a job?"
I say, "yep."
She says, "part-time ok?"
I say, "right now I'll take anything so I can have some money and move out of the house."
She says, "my part-timer just gave me two-weeks notice Monday, how do you feel about 15-20 hours a week at $12 an hour?"
I say, "where do I sign?"
Bwaaaaaaaahahahahahahaha! So, I'm going to take my filled out application back tomorrow morning, but I all but have the job. Just have to take care of the official stuff, and find some kind of day-care or preschool for Jake (ack!).
So, the rest of the story goes... I go down to the court house, find a brilliant parking spot. Walk right in, no line, get to the counter (yay! I went to the right place), hand the lady the paperwork, and she says, "wow, are you a document assistant or something?"
I say, "nope. just very organized." She's all about, "wow, this is great!" Takes the paperwork, takes the money, and badda boom... in six months from today (September 1, 2007) I will be officially divorced.
And, I feel really good about it.
I'm going to make some calls, find someone to take me out to dinner and celebrate tonight or tomorrow night... I'm in the mood!
Tomorrow, I have an appointment with a real estate agent to discuss my options, and the possibility of my buying a condo sometime in the next few months. I'm pretty excited about it!
My head is still spinning! *insert crazy goofy happy dance here*
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