No more.

I don't consider myself better than anyone.

I don't consider myself worse.

I have my ups.

I have my downs.

But there is something you need to consider.

I am a true friend.  I will never tell you that I can't listen to you.  I will never tell you that I have to go.  I will NEVER call you and tell you my problems and not listen to yours.

So why is it, that you feel that it is absolutely NO PROBLEM to call me and unload your problems onto me and then suddenly have to go when you are finished?

In what world is that fair?  In what world is it in any way right for you to call me and tell me about the worst moments of your life but never ever once to ask if I'm okay???

You have someone there somewhere that can wrap you in their arms and make your bad day go away for even a few minutes.  But me, I have no one that will do that for me.  And because you thought it was peachy to unload your problems on me, I am now having a doubly bad day.

But you wouldn't know that.

Because you had to go.

And you won't talk to me again until you have some more crap you need to unload.

In what world, what reality do you live in?  It seems like a crappy place if the cardinal rule is thou shall make thy friend feel like crap for no other reason than misery loves company.

Enough.  No more.  I'm done.

I never tell anyone I can't talk to them.

I never tell anyone I don't want to hear it.

I am a true friend.

But this true friend is drawing her line.

So if you get my voicemail from time to time but not a call back, this is your notice.

I will always be a true friend but I'm choosing not to be your dumping ground.

Not anymore.

So frustrated

...I can't even begin to describe how frustrated I am right now.

I want to go and scream and cry and punch things right now.

This is why I don't trust men.  You let them get close to you and even think that you can be friends with them and they always, always, ALWAYS managed to hit the flush button and let everything go down the shitter.

So, I guess I need to take a step back from my anger and frustration to explain to the absolute zero people that read this why I am so pissed off.

My ex, Randy, told the girls that instead of bringing them out for Christmas in New Mexico, he was coming out here and he was bringing my son Jovaughn.  Well the girls got excited, I got excited, and after six months of not seeing the boy and rarely hearing from him, my mother got excited.  The girls told mostly all of Charlotte that their daddy and their brother were coming here for Christmas.  My mother told the church and that probably spread it to the rest of Charlotte.

so a lot of people are excited that if nothing else, Jovaughn is coming.

I hate when I get texts from my ex asking if I'm at home.  That never means good news.  And when I got that text this afternoon, I was sure he was just calling me with travel details but he wasn't.

He was calling to tell me he might not make it here because he is trying to book his flight and all he can find is going to cost him almost a grand to get he and my son out here.  Instead he proposes that he take the boy out of school for a couple of days for his other son's birthday and take a few days out here.  By spend a few days out here, I mean that he'll spend a couple days with the boy and then come down here on a school day, bother me for a few hours and then when the kids get out of school, he'll spend a few hours with them and fly out that night.

I don't know how my mother did it all those years, have to explain to me that I wasn't going to get to see my dad and not do it with tears in her eyes or streaming down her face because she was so frustrated.  I mean she didn't have to do it very long but that's probably because I grew up and got a little desensitized as children are wont to do.  Just... still...

I must confess there has been a pause here.  I started typing this blog at about 3:30 and it's now 6:10.

He called back and caught me at a very unladylike moment at day.  I'm sorry to say that all of the things that had been running at top speed through my mind bumrushed the roadblock and fell out of my mouth.  The cusses and the curses on his immortal soul were nice enough to hang back to eye the destruction.  And having said nothing that I would need to go to church and confess even though I'm not Catholic, I was able to tell him that if I didn't hang up we would both regret the conversation so that was it, I was done, and he could call the girls and tell them himself.

He still has yet to call and tell them that he's not coming.  Of course he hasn't swung the official hammer on that, but I know it's coming.  It has to be coming.  Trust me, when one shoe flies across the room because of him, the other one is usually not very far behind so if you're gonna duck, better stay down.

So even though it's ebbed and abated, that's my anger and frustration.

As I've ended a great many of my blogs...

Le Sigh....

20 random things about me...

1. I like the smell of dryer lint.  I could literally be in a room of dryers all day long.  I love them.  It's the main reason I do laundry.

2.  As much as I like the smell of dryer lint and fresh clean clothes, I hate all air fresheners that supposedly smell like Fresh linen...

3. My perfect house has a clothes line in the backyard where I can have sun dried laundry in the spring and summer.

4. I have been planning my wedding for the last ten years.  All I need in the man.

5. I don't know how to kiss.  I really don't.  My ex only gave me chase pecks on the cheek. We didn't even kiss on the mouth at our wedding.

6. I don't know what love feels like.  I've heard it described but I have never felt it.

7. I carry a knife everywhere.

8. IF you ever read my writing, and I mean my 'fictional' writings, you will know just how badly I've been hurt in life.  But I will never tell you.

9. I couldn't hold a secret in a brown paper bag.  Seriously, I have even been known to tell my stuffed animals secrets just so that I can tell it.

10.  I'm scared of ever falling in love.

11.  Sometimes when I'm all alone, I turn on music like the hamster dance and dance until I can't breathe... just for the hell of it.

12.  I'm scared of horses and clowns.  Clowns who ride horses can actually cause tears.

13.  I'm so claustrophobic that I will refuse to get on an elevator if an overweight person is on.  Totally stereotypical but it's me and considering I'm not a twig myself.

14.  I love grocery shopping.  It opens up so may food possibilities that it's almost mind blowing.

15.  I can cook a lot of stuff but I rarely eat it.  I have no reasoning behind this.

16.  I am a serious people pleaser.  Unless you piss me off.  Then I will go out of my way to piss you off even if I don't like what I am doing.

17.  I type better with my hunt and peck than I do if I try to do it the way they insisted I type in high school.

18.  I hate talking on the phone.  I only have a house phone because my mother insists on it.  I would rather text you than call you on the phone.  Most people worry when someone won't answer the phone.  I worry when people don't return my texts...

19.  I have a weakness for bald men.  There is no rational reason behind this.  There isn't an actor I like that is bald that I can think of, there hasn't been a role model in my life that made me love bald heads, I just find them so incredibly sexy that, well....

20.  Blogging and writing are my sanity devices.  If I couldn't write down the things in my head down I would be locked up in a room somewhere.

Angels

...Are everywhere in my life.  I am so thankful that I don't know what to do.

Do you know what I did tonight?  I went to the store and got my daughters a gift each for Christmas.  Because of kind, awesome people my girls are getting at least one gift that they will love each.  They don't have to share and these gifts mean something.

Olivia got a Justin Beiber singing doll.  I'm hoping that with a lot of patience, I won't care about the song.  No promises if she leaves it downstairs...  She's crazy about that little white boy so the fact that I'm able to get it for her... Awesome!!

Kayla got a confidence and beauty doll.  They are a set of dolls created by a black woman to enforce that African American girls don't need massive amounts of make-up and fendi purses and Ugg boots to look good.  It doesn't matter if she she's a little chunky or has curly or straight hair...  She is beautiful.

I got her this one:

Scroll down to the middle of the page. I got Kayla the doll in the back.

I also hope to get her the scrap booking supplies but if it doesn't happen, I'm not pushing it.

So I guess I can chalk today up as a good day.  I can go to be feeling like a good mother.

Sigh...

Arg... I cannot get motivated...

...And seriously, you'd think that the fact that my ex is coming to stay here, at my house, for four days in less than two weeks would motivate me to get up off my tukas and clean.  BUT it hasn't.  This Christmas is going to be sucky, I already know that.

The donation thing on GoFundMe.com is going slow.  It's going though and with any hope, my kids might get a good Christmas.  After last year when they had to pretend to be happy with the two or three gifts I was able to afford, I was kinda hoping to have a Christmas where they didn't have to lie to make me feel like I wasn't a fuck up of a mom.  Next year we won't have to dance around and pretend.  Next year I plan to have a job.

But enough about the bad.

Crap, I completely forgot what I was going to blog about.

I really hate senior moments.  I used to call them blonde moments but then I realized... I'm not blonde.  I've tried to be a couple of times but it usually turns out orange and there's no such things as orange moments.

At least I sincerely hope there aren't... That would be scary if there were.

Scary for you guys I mean.  My world is creepy enough that very little scares me.  You would be terrified and reduced to cowering in a corner within ten minutes in my world.

And I still haven't remembered where I was going with this blog.

OH YEAH!!

I'm not motivated to clean.  I want to.  I really kinda sorta do.  It's not like my house is dirty... It's just messy.  There is something every single place in my house and I would kinda like to see my floor again.

But here's the thing.  Winter is that warm cozy season where you curl up with your guy and just chill.  Or in my case curl up with my pillows whose mass could be weighed against a very solid man.  IT's the season where you cuddle and watch old movies and just relax.  And then when Spring comes, you have all this energy and you get stuff done because you've spent all winter being cozy.

Yes I realize that that rationalization make absolutely no damn sense but it's my blog and I'll rationalize chalk if I want to!  LOL.

I really need to clean.  I figure if I keep saying it, I will motivate myself.

It's not working...

I'm going to go curl up with my mountain of pillows.  I have been yawning all night.  Hopefully my trazadone will negate the fact that I drank a cup full of pepsi.  I think it will.

So I've babbled on here long enough to count this as a meaningful blog.

I'm still not going to clean.  At least not tonight...

Goodnight folks!

Missing

You know, say what you will about my marriage (it sucked the life out of me, I changed who I was, I lost person I became...) but you know what?  I miss the companionship it afforded me.

So what if he didn't talk to me.  So what if he came home, went to sleep, woke up, and played video games until work time again, at least if I had a random comment to say, he was there to hear it.

No listen to it... he rarely listened to a word I said, but he heard it.  Another pair of ears heard it.

I miss that when I put my foot into something in the kitchen, he was there to eat it.  I may not have gotten a "mmm that's good!" or a "You did a good job!", I may have frequently gotten a "If you add xxxx it would be so much better!" Or a "I could probably did this on the grill better." But dammit I got a comment other than "This is good Mommy!"

Don't get me wrong I love cooking for my kids but some days, I'm pretty sure that I could season dog food just the right way, call it chili and they would lap it up like mana.

My bed is awesome, but I miss being able to turn over and find the warmth of a man there.  Having a chest to lay on and hear another heartbeat.  Listening to him breathe, yeah I did that in the beginning.

I know I frequently blog about being lonely but with each passing year, I find that it gets worse and worse.  I was unfortunately not made to be alone but I lack the social skills to do anything about it.

Maybe I should move to a place that absolutely no one knows me and I can reinvent myself to the person I want to be.

I think I should do that after I get out of school and have the skills to get a job.

Sadly enough, I don't see myself moving until my kids are all out of high school which means another eight years...

I can't do another 8 years alone. I will go absolutely insane.

Why would God build me like this?  Why would he build me to crave human male contact but then deny me the skills and opportunity to attain it?  Why would he remind me every freaking month that I am a female if I was meant to be alone?  And why would he fix my daughter's mouths to ask if I ever plan on getting married again every few weeks. (yes they seriously ask me that very same question every few weeks.)

I think I'm about to enter one of those periods where i moan and weep a lot.  This will not be good.  It will not be fun.

I will bake a lot.  I will drink a lot.

Ugh...

Is forty here yet?  How about death?  Did he RSVP?  Can we send a car to get him here before things really get ugly??

So I had one hell of a dream

And I'm trying to type fast so that the llittle details that are slowly getting fuzzy can come out...

So I watched scandal last night.  Fitz in hanging in a life n death coma right.  That's where the show ended.  That's where my subconscious took over.

So in my dream he died. and there was a huge funeral.  Do not ask me how but I ended up in the limo with Olivia Pope and her man... and the president's pregnant wife....

We were all set to be in the funeral procession and we ended up on a gravel road with trucks coming at us.  Well, we're scared as shit and the trucks kep coming but then we see this naked man running across the road and Olivia gets out to help him and my friend from church, Millz gets out of the drivers seat and here's the kicker... I'm not surprised to see this.  The naked man maybe.  Millz getting out of the drivers seat no Why you ask?  Because she's a secret service agent in my dream.  I mean WTF??

Fuzzy part with the naked man but pregnant presidents wife goes into labor and Millz goes to run down Olivia... in heels.  She comes back with Olivia who takes control of the situation because apparently I am useless (big surprise) we take off.

Take off being the operative word because Millz drove the hell outta that limo.

But when we got back, we had missed the funeral procession.  And the presidents wife wasn't in labor anymore.

So we went shopping.

Where I promptly ran into Snow white and Prince Charming from Once upon a time.  I couldn't get their attention until the presidents wife went into labor again and Snow white had to get her away before the thugs came.  Enter Millz.  Limo goes peeling out.  I am suddenly wearing a white and purple top and no pants.  So where do I go?

That's right!!  Up to the mysterious seedy motel that now replaces the department store!!  Good job you've been paying attention!!

Yeah no.  That's where I meet my neighbors daughter who asks me if the weave job her uncle richard did looked good.  I told her yes and went downstairs to be suddenly in a living room full of guys playing xbox.

There is still no mention of me putting on pants.  Notice that.

So they were just about to look at me when Millz is back in front of me, looking down on me and she's about to say something but it comes out as

"Cause baby, tonight, the Dj got us falling in love again!!"

This is my alarm tone.  Whatever Millz was going to say came out as Usher...

So that's all I remember.  Have no clue what happened to prince charming, the body of the president, or the naked man.  Have no idea if the president's wife had her baby.

Just know that my subconscious was on overdrive last night...

Hmm...

If it takes a village to raise a child, it was about to take that same one to pull me off a child...

This is one of those days where I probably should have gone back to be and even if I didn't sleep, just laid there. First my Chefville was all screwed up and then I had to go to Oakdale for the honor roll ceremony. Seriously I love the school but the kids are always loud, the parents can be worse when they turn out in big numbers and the parking is atrocious because no one really knows how to park even though the lines can probably be seen from space...

But it took one little girl to push me to almost the final frontier. The Final frontier being that I snatched SOMEONE ELSE'S kid up and beat the ish out of her. She was sitting right behind Olivia and seems as though she thought I was looking at her excessively and trying to take pictures of her so whenever I looked that way she made a face, If I raised the camera to catch Olivia, she made a face or a couple of times flipped me off!!

I mean seriously?!?! Even when I told her that the child 

in front of her was my child she didn't stop! So I was there to hear my baby's name called for A/B honor roll, but I didn't get a single picture that I can use of her standing or sitting because the little $)!*&! in back of her wouldn't let me.

So since all the teachers were busy with the ceremony I just left but I called the school and when I asked if there was someone that could reprimand the child, all I got was the receptionist asking, "So what do you want me to do about it?"

I wanted to tell her that I wanted someone to go snatch the spit outta that kids mouth through her neck but instead I told her I would come talk to the principal later.

I need to breathe. I need to breathe, I need coffee, and I think I might need alcohol. IT's five somewhere but you know what I don't even care if it's five nowhere...

I guess you could call this a down period

Since I'm in the south, I might as well put it in a term that people think is fitting of my now home... "I'm fittin ta do what I need to do."

Which in case point means I'm done fighting.  I clearly cannot be who I want to be, so I'm just going to be.  If somewhere down the road the current wants to shape me into something that the rest of the world deems worthy of anything, I guess that's who I'll be.  But for right now, whatever.

I think now that the weather is cooler, I'm going to start walking.  Donna used to say that being alone out there walking helps clear the head.  We'll see.

I can't do this anymore.  I refuse to hurt whats left of my spirit anymore by fighting.

There is no more me left to fight.  There is no more gumption for my spirit to use to back itself up.

There's nothing left.

I was going to make a cake today.  I even bought a Rubbermaid cake saver so that we all could enjoy it.  I don't think I will be making that cake.  As a matter of fact I think I'll set some chicken breasts out to defrost. Baked chicken salad sounds good for dinner.  Maybe I'll grill it.  It's not too cold to use my grill.

I don't know.  I don't care.

I guess good morning to absolutely no one.

.....

Cracking...

The veneer of the smile I keep on my face is cracking.

Every time one of my friends has an anniversary or announces that they're getting married, i can feel it crack a little more.  I'm afraid that one day, it's going to break and fall away and people aren't going to like the sneer that's been hiding underneath.

Don't get me wrong, I am really really happy for my friends.  I am soo happy.

But I'm so jealous.  So jealous that when some announces that they're getting married or that they've been together another year, or even if they're having a baby, I can't breathe.  My lungs shrivels up and my heart stops and my body shuts down for a hot minute.  I want to run off and find an empty field and scream until all the breath that I know is there is gone.  I want to cry until I am as empty physically that I am emotionally.  And then I just want to lay there.  Lay there and wait for whatever.

But I a really am happy for everyone.  So happy.  So unbelievably happy.

So every time I have one of those cracks that everyone can see, people rush forward to tell me that I just have to be patient and wait.  God is going to send the man he's personally designed for me my way soon.  He's going to put him in my path and we're going to lock eyes and my happily ever after is going to finally begin.

Excuse me if I lose my cool and scream obscenities...

I am Christian.  I go to church, I listen to the messages that are preached, I help out and volunteer. I believe. I am a faithful follower.

At least I think I am.  There is no part of my heart that doesn't love God.  And while it should be full with just that and the love of my friends and family, it's so empty that if whats left of my faith in ordinary miracles screamed out, there'd be an echo for days.

When will it be my turn? I just want someone that thinks I'm worthy of his time and not a guy halfway around the world that is basically a stalker.

You know when I first moved here, my mom and I went to this place on Beatties Ford Rd. to get her tires done and the guy that changed the tires flirted his ass off with me and I gave him my phone number.  We chatted a few times, we texted and for maybe a week, I walked around on cloud nine.  I was approaching happy until I realized all he wanted was a booty call.  He suggested our first date be at his house.  He outright admitted that he wanted to be close to his bedroom.

This is the part where I would normally tilt my head to the side and ask, "Do I look like the kind of girl that would be up for a booty call?"

Except I can't say that.  I mean, I can but I can't really.

Last summer after being alone for yet another year I met a guy.  Yes I was piss drunk, but he and I had a conversation.  Or at least I thought it was a conversation.  Whatever it was, it worked on my dulled senses, I fell into bed and dammit I had a hell of a time.  And God help me I made myself available for more than one booty call.  I convinced myself that it was just sex.  That it would be okay, but then we texted everyday.  Most of the day and stupid me I started to let myself get feelings for him.  So imagine how badly I was crushed when I realized that he didn't think I was worth his daylight hours either.

Just like when I realized that no matter how I tired to make my marriage work, my husband still wanted out I realized that no matter what I was stupid enough to let myself feel for this guy was only one sided.  The air left, all sound stopped and I laid down and I cried.  Over him.  A guy that I didn't really know that well but sad to say is still never actually far from my thoughts.

The feeling is all too familiar.  I felt it ALL through high school.  I had crushes on guys and they ignored me.  Or at least they ignored me to my face.  I'm pretty sure they talked about me to their friends.  The sad, fat pathetic band geek that had a crush on the a list guy.  The guy that was the class president my years in high school, yeah I had a big crush on him.  I spent a whole year thinking that he had no clue I liked him.  But yay for him for being able to keep a secret long enough for me to feel really dumb. He signed my yearbook, "Thanks for all the cards."

He's getting married too.  He announced it last year.  Happy for him.

The guy I liked Senior year is probably engaged too.  I've lost track of the guys that I liked my freshman year and the guy that I had a crush on my sophomore year can go to hell in a wicker basket wearing gasoline boxers and hold a box of lit matches.

The guy I liked freshman year of college probably has no clue that had he but beckoned I would have followed him to the ends of the earth.  He fell into the friend category and yanked me into that circle with him and then there was Randy.  Say what you want, it was a miserable marriage in the last few years but when we weren't fighting, it was good.  Sometimes it was good.

I keep trying to have faith and proclaim that this year at midnight on New Years, I'm going to have someone to kiss.  Someone that's not going to give me a pity kiss.  But then another year passes and I have no one.  And while everyone gets to kiss their special someone at midnight, I get to paste on my phony smile and cry on the inside.

So another year is coming to a close.  And the prospects for finding someone at once again slim.  So slim that I think this New Years, I'm not even going to bother.  I'm going to just sit home and have a drink, or maybe take a couple sleeping pills and wake up to a new probably even lonelier year.

I think it's time to give up.  To face the fact that when my marriage failed, I lost my chance at a maybe happiness.  That was the one chance that I was given and that's it.  I'm always going to be the bridesmaid, I'm never again going to be the bride.  Or the girlfriend.  I'm the friend.  I'm the one that gets to smile and hug and say, I'm so happy for you and any other thing I can think of to keep your day happy.

It's time.  I'm done.

The fat sad band geek is done.

..........