B... Humorous B... are you ready??

I put up the status for B this morning and last night and I got a few good suggestions... Tonight I chose three of them.

Bleach Thanks to Jennifer Beauvais Osorio

Okay, so bleach... evil thing that.  It is like the serpent with the apple... of course that would mean that I am comparing myself to Eve and well... okay sure except that if you read the bible that woman had a crap load of kids and it hurt like hell... So no, I'm gonna stick with Dette...

Bleach is the best freaking thing to hit earth since sliced bread but oh so evil... so evil...

When I was a kid I was spoiled as hell.  I didn't do laundry.  Like at all.  The closest I came to doing laundry was going to switch the clothes from the washer to the dryer for my mom.  I may have helped sort them but considering I kinda a brat, I doubt it.  So when I got married, I was kinda clueless to how the whole bleach thing worked.

Husband says that laundry needs to be done.  After I finish looking at him like he has five heads and all of them are speaking a foreign, foul language, I decide, what the hell.  How hard can it be?  Put the money in, put the soap in, put the clothes in, close the lid right?

Oh how wrong we are when we pretend to know what we don't know.

Make a long story short... White navy uniforms that cost upwards fifty to a hundred bucks, your newborn son's dark blue onsies with the oh so cute blue designs, and almost a half a gallon of bleach DO NOT MIX!!!  The actually make for one really pissed off husband.  They make your mother in law who never wanted you in her family in the first place laugh her fool ass off, but seeing as how the pissed off husband is in a real position to make your life a living hell, I don't recommend mixing the three...

I also do not recommend mixing bleach and a ammonia.  Yes the clean your toilets and counters and floors like no one's business and for a closet neat freak like me that's awesome but you know what... Together, I have found that they make mustard gas.  No, not that foul smell that comes out of the mustard bottle when it's been closed up for a really long time, actual mustard gas.  Bio chemical warfare strength actually.

*Aside here-  If it's really that easy to make a bio weapon that can cause everyone who comes in contact to cease to breathe and flop around on the floor like fish out of water and possibly die from over exposure to it, why have we been loosing wars??  I mean a bunch of housewives could very easily wipe out (Cleaning pun) whole countries and there would be no problem.*

So back to topic.  I mix them quite regularly.  I have actually come up with the right mix so that I don't suffocate myself.  Several of my friends wanna thunk me over the head whenever they find out I do it, but I gotta say, seeing my floors clean and my toilets sparkling, I'll deal with the lectures.  Totally worth it.

Totally.

Boobs Thanks to Rockngranny Gordley

I don't have a whole bunch to say on boobs.  I don't have a whole bunch of boobs.  I wish I had a whole bunch of boobs.  I have a feeling that guys would like me better if I had a bunch more of boobs.

Boobs are awesome.

Here's the thing.  Why do women display their boobs and then get mad when guys look at them?  I saw a woman the other day who was showing pretty much everything God gave her save her areolas and nipples.  I mean damn.  If I was a baby, I would have probably been instantly thirsty upon sight of her.  Now keep in mind I was at the casino in Atlantic City.  An old guy walked by her and I can swear he walked slower than he did in that moment.  His eyes were all in her chest. (And they had the AC on full blast so the rest of the image didn't really need imagination.)  She's at the machine next to me and she turns to me in disgust and says, "Ugh!  Did you see that?  That geezer had his eyes all in my shirt.  Some guys have no class no matter how old they get."

Seriously,.. imagine my face here.  Imagine the self control it took not for me to have the biggest freaking koolaid grin.  Imagine how hard it was for me to not make a remark about her shirt.  Seriously, imagine me just shrugging at her. It was hard.

Boobs are great things, really they are. Boobs are the reason that a lot of people are alive today.  Of course, in that context, they are referred to as breasts, not boobs.  Boobs does not go well with feeding.  "Excuse me, I'm going to boobfeed my kid." just doesn't sound right.

Don't get me started on Breastfeeding.  I personally like breastfeeding.  Besides the fact that it keeps children alive, it gave me a diluted sense that my kids actually needed me for a little while.  When they started walking all sense that they needed me for anything was over.  My son's first steps were to the fridge which he promptly found a way to pull open and grab one of his sippy cups.  Cannot tell you how useless I felt in that moment.

I personally don't see what the big hooplah is over breastfeeding.  Okay yes I agree with people say that a certain modicum of discretion is called for.  I agree with covering both you and your baby while feeding but not because I'm embarrassed, because I really don't want people staring.  People stare.  I'm embarrassed if they stare at me anyways so I'm not going to give them an extra excuse to stare.  That is my ONLY issue with breatfeeding.

And as Forrest Gump says, "And that's all I have to say about that."

Lastly... Baking Thanks to Elaine Knight

Seriously, I could go on an on forever about baking.  Bread, cookies, cakes, you name it, I've probably baked it.  Stoves, campfires, light bulbs, I've probably cooked on it all.

Baking is a huge stress relief for me.  Eating what I bake, however has become a huge chore.

I have regrettably reached the age where eating what I cook is not fun for me.  It's functional.  baking/cooking for other people and watching them become nourished by what I created in the kitchen is what fills me with joy.  I miss eating my baked goods.  I do not miss my pants being a size 26.  I just miss eating.

Baking is something comes natural to me.  Being in my kitchen comes natural to me.  So baking is awesome.

What else can I say about baking.  Nope, I think I covered it all with baking is awesome.

So in the spirit of keeping with the oletter of the day... Bye!!

Fear...

So a few years ago, December 2009, I had Shingles... bad.  I have this horrible lump on the top of my head that looked honestly like something had laid eggs under my skin.  The rash went all the way from my forehead to the crown of my head and cause most of the hair in it's path to fall out.  If I so much as moved too fast, I was in extreme pain.  Pain that rivaled my worst contractions when I was pregnant.  It went down to my left eye and quickly spread to my right eye.  They call it Shingles.  It was bad.  The Dr. that treated me in the emergency room told me outright that for me to get it in my twenties was a rarity and that since one of the triggers is stress, I must have been under extreme stress.

I actually took a Facebook picture of how I looked before the lump on top of my head got big...

This was when the lip was swollen and the whole left side of my face hurt.  You can see where my hair started to fall out at the top.  My Dr. at the time was completely unconcerned that I described my eyes as red and yellow.  He told me to buy an eye patch.  I think it was the day after this or so that I went to the ER to find out it was Shingles and never called my doctor again.

Truth is, I was.  I had an ex husband that was acting like most ex's act which is to say $#(&.  I had a job that was more quickly becoming a place I dreaded going whereas I used to love it. I was raising three kids pretty much on my own and at the time my son treated me the way he grew up watching his father treat me which is to say like I was inconsequential to his everyday life, and I had a landlord who thought he was God's gift and he could treat me anyway he wanted to.  So yeah.  Stress.

Anyway, like I said it affected my eye.  The whites of my eye turned yellow.  I looked like I had a serious case of jaundice.  The slightest amount of daylight hurt my eyes and I had to wear thick dark sunglasses everywhere I went including into my house for up to an hour while my eyes adjusted to the now muted light.  The eye doctor they sent me to hinted that untreated I would have lost my vision.... at first.  He later said that I had damaged my eyes irreparably.  That part I told no one because I put myself in denial and told myself that he had no clue what he was talking about.

Recently I have to take day trips out of denial because my eyes are getting bad.  Really bad.  Bad like sunglasses are increasingly not helping and doing almost anything outside is near impossible.   Driving is becoming something that I don't look forward to because I can be in the middle of the road and suddenly my eyes go blurry and or my vision just blanks out for a second.  Blinking used to help clear it but it doesn't always anymore. Grey days like today actually cause me headaches because they are so bright and I've become the person that has to wear sunglasses almost into nighttime.

I have a real fear that I am going blind and bloggers, I am scared to death.  Scared like you wouldn't believe.  There isn't a damn thing I can do about it because I am now dependent on Medicaid and they don't cover adult's eyes anymore.

I have no one but my kids to rely on if I lose my sight. They aren't old enough to be able to cope with that and I feel that if they aren't 18 when I finally do go blind, my ex will use that as an excuse to take them from me.  Not that I'm selfish that way, If I do lose my sight I will probably give them to him because they deserve a life that I will no longer be able to give them.

I will be so totally alone that I am pretty sure I will want most days to curl up in a corner and die.  I have never really much thought about losing my sight but more and more it's pressing on me.  I have stopped rearranging my house and have become the person that has places for things.  On days when ordinary room light hurts too much for me to see well, I try to walk around with shades on or even with my eyes closed just to get the layout of my house.

I'm a reader.  The written word is a huge part of my life.  If I can't read anymore can I survive?  If I can't get on the computer and type out my feelings would I survive?  Even as I type this, my eyes are starting to hurt a lot.  Hurt like... almost burn.

I am scared to death and I can't tell anyone.  I tried to tell my mom once. She said I needed to wear my glasses more.  My glasses have since been lost actually.  I had to stop wearing them because they actually made it all worse.  And Like I said before Medicaid no longer covers eye care for adults so they were my last pair.  I'm no longer able to go to an eye doctor.

It's after midnight, I should go.  I need to stop looking at the screen like I'm going to find the answers I need.  There aren't really any.

And besides ending up alone and possibly in a dark world where I can't even see my children anymore, the fact that no one can tell me anything has me scared shitless...

And A is for...

Aggravation!

Chances are that since I haven't managed to spell that right all dang day and the fact that I have already had over 16oz of iced tea with Firefly Sweet tea Vodka in it, this might prove to be an interesting blog...

So as I sit here with my way too big bag of peanut m&m's (yes, I have chocolate and vodka, no I don't wanna talk about it as it will require much more vodka...) I need to contemplate aggravation...

Homer Simpson had an episode where he said "You know what grinds my gears?"  (Or was that Peter Griffin from Family Guy?  I watch a lot of cartoons)  I guess that's a good way of starting.

You know what grinds my gears?  People who pretend to be your friends but really aren't.

Everyone has one or several of these friends.  For me, I have A LOT of these people.  Mostly on my Facebook.  Most of them that I went to high school with.  They put up all these posts that require answers but then when you respond, they act like you haven't said a word.  It's like high school again.  You include me in the group but when I voice my opinion, you act like I'm the hanger on that should only talk when spoken directly to.  And it's not even their posts all the time.  I don't know about you, but I have this thing where I randomly go to someone's wall and say "Hi!  was thinking about you.  How are you?"  This is not me jumping up and down saying "I'm here!  Notice me!" this is two things.  This is me being nice because you probably were actually crossing my mind and I'm generally interested in what's going on in your life.  This is also a test.  Chances are that I have been treated like the step child that shouldn't voice her opinion even when asked by you and I want to see if you are really as shallow as you are coming across.  You have no idea how many people hit the chopping block as far as Facebook is concerned because they don't respond.

What else?  Ah!  Something that I witnessed today.

RUDE PEOPLE/ RACIST PEOPLE

Example one, my mom and I went to her orthopedic consultation today regarding her knees.  While sitting in the waiting room pretty much everyone looked up at my mom and smiled.  She indicated she was cold and one woman came over to tell her that the place we were sitting was always cold and if the couple to the side of us got up, we should take their spot as it's always warm there.  Nice of her.  My mom was called to the front for something and again everyone looked up and smiled because we're in the South and people tend to be just that nice.  While she was up, I sneezed.  If you actually know me, you know that this was not a quiet thing.  My sneezes range from a comically high pitched Achoo something that sounds like I'm trying to blow my nose out of my eyes.  I never know what one it's going to be.  Anyway, I sneezed.  Do you know not one person looked up or even muttered "bless you"?  I'm pretty sure that everyone saw me some in with my mom especially since I almost tripped over the side of a chair and face planted on the floor. Maybe it's my sense of whatever but I don't care if someone sneezes clear across the room, I say Bless you.  It's something my mother taught me.  And I know that it wasn't because everyone was in their own world because a minute later when my mom came walking back to our chairs, freaking everyone in her path looked up and smiled.

Uhm...huh?  Wow.

Example two of what I'm pretty sure was racism on parade.  We've all been to Walmart.  Don't deny it, you've been.  We all have.  I'm walking down the aisle on my way to the register and coming at me was Mexican teenagers I've seen in a long time.  Complete with the soccer jerseys.  They weren't being loud, they didn't smell, they didn't even look out of place except for the fact that they were tall and their features gave them away as clearly being Mexican.  There was an old lady walking in front of me.  Now the aisle was big enough for the two of them, the group of five (Who had formed a single file line) and the old lady, to pass each other with enough room for a mac truck to go between them.  She looked up at them and not only stopped but moved to the farthest side of the aisle opposite them and watched with horror (You really cannot mistake horror on an elderly person's face).  Then she noticed that a black woman was standing behind her and she stepped back in front of me and every other step she had to glance back to see that I wasn't too close.  I was tired or else I might have played a mind game with her as I'm apt to do to people in Wally World.  Mom said I should have looked her in the eye and said "Boo!" (My mom can be funny sometimes.)  But the fact that she was that put off by Mexicans and a black person was just really...aggravating to me.

What else?  There are so many many things that are aggravating to me.

While I find something else here's something for Rachel Who suggested tonight's topic be Apples and hinted that I could do all sorts of yummy things with them...

White Chocolate Chip Apple cookies

Unwarranted Advice

I would say that this falls in the aggravation category.

Everyone has an opinion but here's the thing.  Sometimes you need to listen to people.  I mean really listen.  Not only to their words but the tone of voice that tells you I want you to know, or I need to vent and I don't really need advice.  Yes I know that your advice is probably what I should do and it will probably lead me to sunny days and freaking happiness but dammit I don't want to hear it right now.  Of course some of my friends that unwarranted advice leads to fun, mayhem and maybe serious trouble.  But still at that moment, I don't want to hear it.  Okay... example... *Think, Dette, Think!*

Me: My husband is really an ass sometimes.
Friend: Oh?
Me: Well the other day I was having an asthma attack.  I mean I really couldn't breathe and I felt like I was going to pass out. My inhaler wasn't working and do you know what that asshole did?
Friend: What?
Me: He actually stood there and watched me fade in and out of consciousness with the phone in his hand before he called the paramedics.

(This is the part of the conversation where the 'friend' is supposed to say something to the affect of "No shit, that ass!")

Friend: You need to leave him.

I wanna say, "Bitch I KNOW that!"  Cause I do, I really do.  I knew that about three minutes after "I do" but I don't need you to tell me that.  I need you to agree with me that he's an ass and help me plot murders that look like accidents to cheer me up.  I don't need you to tell me that I need to leave him.

Okay so that's a really bad example of unwarranted advice but I claim the vodka defense. Besides, it was kinda meant to make you laugh.

I'm kinda jamming to my WMP which for once is NOT playing kissy lovey songs for once.  It's playing the kinda set list that makes me wanna get up and dance like I have black people rhythm. (there is no non racist way to describe my dancing so I'm going to let your imaginations take over that one.  *Insert devious giggle because I can only imagine what your brains are coming up with*)

Another one for Rachel...

Dutch Apple Cake

On the subject of Kissy love songs... And this is the last topic I will cover in Aggravation... The mere fact that almost everyone around me is happy in love and I still can't get a guy to pay attention to me is starting to aggravate me.  Another of my friends got engaged this weekend.  I'm happy for her.  I think it's wonderful but it's one more person in front of me in the long line of people who get to have that happiness that I crave.

EH.  I'm gonna stop there cause trust me, I could go on ALL NIGHT about that particular aggravation...

So this was 'A' aggravation... How'd I do?  Leave me a comment!

Ciao! or since the topic was an a maybe I should say Arrivederci! 

So... Sunday... Kind of a ramble... If you can keep up, you're better than I thought...

It's Sunday and you know what?  I don't have too much to blog about today.  Went to bed last night with a headache the size of Montana and woke up this morning to find it had stretched it's way from the top of my head to the base of my spine.  Not a fun morning.  I actually shed a tear when my almost thirteen year old, looking me in the eye, daughter came barreling down the stairs and gave me her usual "i'm going to knock you down pretending I'm a still a toddler that can leap into your arms" hug.  But I didn't say anything because, let's face it... my days of getting knock you down hugs are numbered with a pre teen and a tween in my house.  One morning I'm going to wake up with no back pain and my daughters are going to great me with a sleepy nod of the head instead of tackling me.  So painful or not, I'm going to take my hugs and suffer in silence...

Still nothing on the romance front but then if the adage is true, I'm not having any luck because I'm looking for it.  But gotta tell ya, it's kinda hard not to look for what you want.  That's like loosing your keys right before you walk out the door and hoping that they magically appear.

I've been waiting for my happily ever after since I was 18!  I'm tired  Where is my Doofus in tin foil??

So okay I'm pretty sure that *if* I have any new readers you might be asking why I say doofus in tin foil and not knight in shining armor...

Knight's in shining armor don't exist.

Yes you read that right.  I have known enough males and read enough romance novels to know that the guy on paper, he doesn't exist.  Sure there are blond haired blue eyes Adonis-like guys that you wish would pay you the slightest bit of attention and use their deep southern drawl to turn your knees to jelly and their well honed muscles to drag you off to bed and give you the good time you know only he can... err... or raven haired and green eyed, brown eyed, sandy haired... whichever, sorry got a little off topic there... what was I saying?  Oh yeah... yeah sure we wish that guy existed but the reality is that the perfect guy is a myth. 

There is a perfect man for each woman, (excluding the women that love other women of course.  I am not pushing heterosexuality on anyone.) but just because he's perfect for you doesn't mean he's perfect period.

I have several friends that have found their Prince Charming and you know what, I'm pretty sure that when they look at their guys, they see sunshine and daisies and unicorns flying out of their bums.  You don't wanna know what I see.  It's often times not very flattering.  THEY ARE GOOD GUYS but I don't see the sunshine.

This may be because I have a skewed view of men.  I'm not overly trustful of them because the last one I let past my walls destroyed the fortress.  I mean took a serious battering ram to the place and made a huge mess.  And ever since the great clean up, no male has made it past the outer wall.

Wow, I get off topic really quickly don't I??  What the $#(&! was I blogging about tonight?

Uhm... I went from a killer headache/backache to the perfect (nonexistent) man... okay... sure... I can work with that...

Have you ever listened to the fine print talk at the end of the dating site commercials?  I have.

And I quote... "Joining is free!  Sign up today!"

They don't lie...joining is free.  actually meeting someone will cost you anywhere from $35/month to $160/year.  Trust me I know I have a profile (sometimes two) on just about every dating site out there from Christian mingle to single parent's dot come.  Did you know there is even a site for farmers??  No shit there is... But they are the free profiles because I can't see taking my limited funds and splurging to find Mr. Right.

But on the flip side, I can't seem to find Mr. Right so is it really that wrong to pay someone else to find him for me?  If you ask my mom and the news, yes.  That is wrong because no one is who they seem to be online and those that are, well aren't they just goody two shoes?  I ask my friends and they well... they give me loving advice that starts with "Are you crazy??  Don't you dare!" and ends with "If you have to do, which you shouldn't, make sure you text me and tell me where you are and make it public and... yada yada..." (This is where I tend to tune out because my resolve to do the online thing has generally buckled under the lecture so why listen to the rules I'm not going to need to follow anyways...)

Me personally I have this thing where I get hung up on one ideal and hell if I can't get off it.  I call it the curse of being an only child and being a spoiled rotten one at that. I always want what is always just out of my reach.

Know what?  Subject change, I'm tired of talking about romance.

I wanna talk about... my birthday.

My birthday is officially 28 days from now.  I know what I want to do but there are serious odds that if I expect that, I will be highly disappointed so I think I'm going to expect a quiet night at home where I'll be routinely ignored or reminded that I'm a mom. (Pretty sure that I won't forget that)  My b-day falls on a Monday this year... boo hiss!!  I'm hoping the ex will take the kids the weekend before or after so that I can at least try to be an adult. Maybe I'll treat myself to a movie.

I am going to stop rambling now and end this.  I have jumped from A to Q and back to B all in the same blog.

OOOOOHHH IDEA!!!! I'm going to pick a letter of the alphabet each day and choose a topic and blog on that.

Insert evil laughter here...

Ciao bloggers!!

Hmmm

Bloggers I am so tired that if I actually closed my eyes right now (Which is impossible due to the very LARGE cup of diesel fuel I *think* was coffee that I had this morning.) I would sleep for hours.

Drove up to Margretsville, NC for homecoming at the church my family has belonged to for over 100 years.  We were there from 10:15 until about 1:45... So long day.  It was okay.  I really do think that I gave Sunday's there a bad judgement call because I was so young and basically hated church in general back then.  They had wooden seats that were just plain uncomfortable, service was way too early... you know, the normal bratty kid problems...

So we went up for Homecoming like I said and it was okay.  Let's leave it at that.

It was kinda of a bittersweet trip.  My cousins are moving to be closer to their children.  One is going to Upper New Jersey and the other to Texas.  The big house is up for sale and there aren't any cousins that we're close to up there anymore so I think that this is the last time we're going to see my family's home church unless we make a special trip up there which is highly unlikely to tell you the truth.

One thing that bothers me.  Over and over, one of my cousins said that I was a surprisingly good this or a surprisingly good that.  That I have really grown up... The usual things that older family members say to someone... but they alternately annoyed me and made me wonder... was I really THAT BAD as a child/teenager???

Okay yeah, I was a normal disaffected teen.  I had a complex where I seriously though that I was white for a long time.  A really long time.  The far reaching effects of this are that I don't see color barriers like some people do, but when I say I thought I was white, believe me when I say this was a bad thing.  I acted like the kids in my school who had an actual silver spoon in their mouths, not the silver colored plastic spoon I had in mine.... yeah... And that's not a knock at white people or the kids in OTHS or my friends from OTHS.  I just forgot that in reality, I was one of 25 black kids in a sea of over 300 whites and that I lived in the projects across the highway.  Made me who I am so it's all good.  Back to subject... I wasn't a very tolerable person.

I guess I didn't realize just how much of a turd I was though because quite literally everything I did brought on the comment "You turned out well", or "I didn't think you'd grow up, but you did" in some version or another and Oh man, did it really grind on my nerves to think about what I must have been like.

I also came to the conclusion in the country that I am the problem in most of my day to day dealings.  I don't communicate or in some cases, I'm sure I over communicate.  I always want what's unobtainable to me and I keep wanting it even after I realize it's unobtainable.  I think that it being unobtainable makes it even more appealing to me most times but no more. The straw that was meant to break the camel's back has officially broken it and I'm done.

If you don't want me, I will live.  If you don't like me, I will live.  If you feel like I'm not worth it, then you know what?  I will live.  It will be difficult to do so at first, but I will live.  And I will prosper.  I don't know how yet, but I will.

Crazy summer.  And It's not over yet.  The ex leaves tonight go get his mother and sister from NY to come live in Charlotte.  You may see a lot more blogs on the subject soon.  Depends on how separate I manage to keep my life and how much of a thud there will be when I fail...  We'll see.

So It's been a few days...

No, I didn't go running screaming into the night.  I've actually been keeping on the DL lately.

It's amazing how when you think you are saying one thing, other people who really love you can see past what you think you are saying to what you are really saying.  And how totally different people see the same words and take them at face value.

Last week.  Possibly Tuesday or monday when I was at one of my lower points, I sent out two messages to people in my church.  One to the Ladies Mime ministry on which I dance as apart of the group and one to the Young Adults Ministry.  In both letters it said that I needed to leave both auxiliaries because it was a tough time in life and I wasn't sure if I had it in me to continue.  Both presidents responded.  One with it was okay and I didn't need to quit.  To which I responded that I didn't know if I was going to have a place to live or custody of my kids by the end of the following month to which the response I got was it's all good, we've been there.  Don't think she was being cold...she really just had no idea that I was basically saying I was done, I couldn't go on anymore.  She responded as would most people who don't know the situation would.  Now the other auxiliary, I sent basically the same message to and she outright asked what was going on to which I told her the same thing.  Within five minutes a prayer circle was started for me.  Continued that Wednesday at church.  The fact that someone in that group honestly saw that I was saying goodbye probably before I explained why touched me so much.  They will never know that in my sea of sharks and emptiness, they were the life preservers that kept me afloat.

I used to think that if I try enough to show people that I don't know how to ask for help they might actually take the time to look a little deeper into my words.  To date, only the ladies in the Mime group have done that.  Friends that I have had for years on top of years didn't even notice that I was drowning.  I don't know if that means I didn't sound like I was drowning or they are just wrapped up in their own lives.

And that sounds cruel.  They have a lot going on in their lives.  I get that.  I more than get that.  I'm sure that there have been times in my life when I had something, anything, going on and didn't see that a friend was about to slip through the cracks.  So whatever anger I had that certain friends didn't notice my signaling for help, it's gone.  To each their own life.

I still have not talked to my son.  I can't.  I know as his mother I should be the bigger person, but I can't bring myself to do it.  He tore the lives his sister knew into pieces at the suggestion of his father and a queen sized bed.  My question is, next year when his father decides to move to South Carolina (If that happens likes he's planning) what excuse is he going to use to stay at the school he bonded with in three days?  When he doesn't get what he wants is he going to try and come back to my household because even if I am talking to him in a year, I'm pretty sure that one event will be enough for me to rail at him and tell him he had the choice to be in a school for four years and he chose to tear a home apart then now he has to bear the consequences of his actions.

And yes, I still see it as tore a home apart.  To be honest, this is the first place that's felt like home since my divorce.  A feeling that I never thought I would have.  Ever.  With one decision, he ripped that from me without even bothering to talk to me about it.  Like a king on a mountain throne, he passed down this edict and boom.  He's safe, his life is unchanged, and the lives of three people he supposedly loved are torn to shreds.  It's going to take me awhile to get over that feeling.  Right now, I don't see the light in that particular tunnel.

On a bright side, I think I finally cured myself of something bloggers.  I saw an old friend last night.  Yes I slept with this person in the past.  By past I mean what seems like an eon ago and I attached my heart to my... whatever and I formed feelings for him that I shouldn't have.  For a year I held onto the slightest feeling that he may come back and we could have something real.  He contacted me the other night and we set plans for last night.  I was a good girl, bloggers, I DID NOT rush around my house cleaning up and making everything look perfect.  I DID NOT go and put on a slinky dress to show sex appeal.  I DID NOT put on perfume so that he'd smell it and comment.  I smelled like sweat and bbq smoke as I was BBQing when he got here.  I wondered what I would feel when he got out of his car.  Would I feel that flutter in my tummy that signaled I was still sexually attracted to him?  Would I throw tons of sexual innuendo at him so that he'd suggest it and I could be bold and turn him down or submit and get some.  But you know what, I felt absolutely nothing other than pleasure to see an old friend.  That was it.  And it was great.  It felt so freeing that there isn't really another way to describe how I felt.  Now, this isn't to say that if he decided to ask me out or kiss me or whatever I would turn away.  I'll probably never do that to any guy but I'm happy being friends.

Now If I can just jump that very same hurdle with my latest crush I just might find myself back on the sanity side of the funny farm. I'm taking baby steps.  At the moment I've made a choice to not text him.  At all.  Not even to say hello.  IF I can work my fingers into other projects, I think I may accomplish that one.

Life is hard.  I swear it's hard.  Probably I make it harder than it needs to be. There's no doubt that we all make parts of our lives harder than God's intended for them to be and then look back and ask Him why He did that.  I'm recognizing that I am doing this to myself.  It's going to be hard and there's probably a cartoon path of ease right next to this path I''m traveling but you know what?  I'm going to learn much more from this path than I will from the bright sunny path.

Ciao, bloggers!

So Today

I woke up and decided that I was not going to think about the crap that my life has been lately.

At first, I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do but then I glanced at my closet and thought for perhaps the twelve hundredth time in the last six months that I should take the time to actually fold/hang the clothes that make up my very own Mt. Laundry.

Just so that you have something to picture, imagine dumping all clean clothes in a pile on your floor every time you do the laundry.  Yes, you pick and choose clothes from the pile from time to time but basically you are kinda living out of the pile because let's face it, you are way too lazy to do the right thing.  After six months, the pile is so high that one, you need a new pile just to step on top of it and two, once on top of it, you can see the very back of the top shelf in the closet very clearly... in fact, you are looking down on it.

So yeah, that's Mt. Laundry.  It used to be on the couch in the past but that just looked tacky. (shut up.)

And today, I decided I'm not going to have the passing thought, I'm going to DO something about it!

Took me roughly six hours to find my floor.  Clothes were thrown away... Clothes were put back in the wash to be rewashed, and everything that could be hanged, folded, and put away was done.  Bonus, I think I added square footage to my house!  I even washed my sheets and pillowcases.  My mom had jokes about that!  I am notorious for washing my sheets and putting them right back on my bed.  It's one of the few times my bed is made.  The other being when there might be a gentleman caller coming around.... so uh... never...

I have clothes!!  A lot of clothes.  Seriously more clothes than someone like me needs.  I don't go anywhere but I have several non church nice clothes.I even have stuff that I might wear to a club or a ghetto bbq (meaning I have a really short skirt that could be described as indecent) And I have TONS of work out clothes, but I don't work out!!  I would say I'm thinking of starting, but even I can't say that seriously since I'm sitting here eating Froot Loops for the second night in a row...

I think I'm going to tackle my bathroom tomorrow.  There is not a damn thing else I can do other than make a few phone calls.

Something else... My windows media player is hellbent on causing me to have a serious issues...  I put it on random play last night and tonight and damned if the thing didn't play every single bump and grind, sexual vision inducing song it had in it's cache!! I mean seriously??  I would skip one song and go to a light hearted song and the next three would be something that would damn near bring me to my knees because they'd catch my ear just that way.  I both love and hate that music can do that to me.  Confirmed my suspicions that I watch way too much late night television and read way too many romance novels that I get mental pictures of stuff that I haven't done in so long.

Sigh... whatever.  It was nice to have a good day and not a reasonable facsimile of one.  I had an actual stress free day.  Yay!

Goodnight!

Kisses and hugs!!

Running screaming...

I swear, I'm going to get drunk and run screaming into the night as naked as the day I was born.  You think I'm kidding but I'm about at the point where if I committed a major crime I would land in an insane asylum and not jail because I'm pretty sure whatever is left of my mind is about to jump ship.

This morning at nine am, I got a call from a telemarketer who woke me up to ask me what signs of aging have I noticed...

Bloggers, the lord was with him when he tied my tongue so that all I could say was that I don't get enough sleep because people call me early in the morning to talk about my aging....

The MBF and AW came to get me and happy of happy happy joy joys we went to Soho!  Of course one of my besties and one of my awesomely so good almost besties were there to see me so we could have hit a hot dog stand and I still would have had a big ass kool aid grin on...

Then real life had to stick is head in where it didn't belong.  We decided to hit the mall.  Wallet not with me.  Have to go to moms.  Wallet not at moms.  Wallet not at home.  Wallet has gone MIA.  Drove all over looking.

Called Walmart as it was the last place I remember having it and the bored woman on the phone first got my name wrong four times then after a shuffle where I'm not actually sure she went to the office to look she came back and told me my water was not there.  I corrected her and said wallet.  She said it 'ain't' there.  At Mommy's suggestion, I went by the wal-mart to ask and the woman who was there actually went and checked the safe and came back to say no but the woman who had answered the phone came in.  The woman who looked asked her if she knew of a wallet with my name and the bored woman (Who stereotypically fit the description I pictured from her voice on the phone) said, "What she come in for?  I told her it wasn't here!"

I won't repeat what I said to her.  I won't tell of the control I lost.  I will only say that she picked the wrong person in the wrong week to get snippy with.

Of course, my ex (who I'm not sure he remembers telling me that he was the better parent since he's been acting like nothing was wrong) in his infinite helpfulness told me about the time his wallet went missing or that his sisters was stolen just last week.  I'm sorry all I wanted to do was scream "I DON"T CARE!!" into the phone.  I don't know exactly what it was he said once I got back in the car, but I snapped.  My exact snap was:

"I have nothing left to give anymore!  I'm surprised I have tears left to cry over this?  What more do you want of me?  In the last 24 hours I have been forced to give up my home, the first place in a long time that's felt like home, I have taken my son out of my family on paper, I have found out that there isn't a damn thing in Charlotte that I can rent within my price range that isn't a total piece of ---- and now on top of all of that my wallet is missing meaning I have to cancel four bank cards, replace three social security cards, replace my food card and after this lady give me my twenty dollars back for these keys, I will have ONLY that to live on until I can get some new stuff.  I can't drive (legally) I can't even prove that I am me!  So what more would you like me to give because I can spare nothing else!"

And he was quiet for over a minute.

I think I may have laid a little more on him than he thought I had going on.

Anyway he met met me at the super small house and he decided exactly what I knew he would decide which was that it was way too small for us.  He wasn't paying for that.  The upside is now he's calling around as well.

I'm home now.  Not if I'm going to sim out or write out but I'm out.  I need to forget about reality right now.

Someone told me once that your friends should be like an expensive and well manicured art collection.  Today I got to see my Mona Lisa and my Girl with the Pearl Earring...

Behind these hazel eyes...

No, I am not going to sit here and quote Kelly Clarkson.  Although I DO like the song...

Today was a difficult one, bloggers. It was difficult on several levels one being that I didn't actually get to sleep until three AM.  I need to work on getting to bed at a decent time and to stop writing....

I hit the floor running at seven fifteen.  The first time in a long time.

I had a breaking moment this morning when I had to one.  Remove my son from my household officially.  My son is no longer apart of my household and with one line through his name it was official in Section 8's eyes.

I swear to God it felt like I was disowning my son.  In the old days in England (Pre Victoria) when a father wanted to disown a child, they drew a line through the person's name and birthdate in the family bible.  The papers I fill out for my section 8 are like a bible to them and when I had to draw a line through my son's name, DOB, and SSN number I felt like I cut away my arm.

My caseworker had to leave to go get the notice of intention to vacate from her office and I just put my head in my hands.  It was all I could do to keep the tears from running down my face, bloggers.  I seriously felt like I just kicked him out of my family and I don't like that feeling.  Even Ms. B noticed that I was close to crumbling.  To be honest, she does her job without emotion which I think is perfect for a government job dealing with families but she often feels so cold to me that I wonder if she has a heart.  Again I realized and appreciate that she has to be that way or she could get in serious trouble if ever Harry Heartbreak and Sally Sobstory came in there.  She looked me in the eye and said that at 14 years old, my son has no legal right to choose where he wants to live.

So I explained that if I force him to live with me, he will probably become sullen and resentful and my ex will use that to slam me into the first courthouse and defame my character to the point where I loose all my children.  She honestly told me I was smart to realize that before it happened.  I'm not smart enough to know it.  I've lived around him long enough to know him.  I know this game.  I hate this game but I know it like a well practiced dance.

I had a pair of contacts in my purse this morning.  I haven't been wearing my color contacts because they are really one of my masks.  I love them.  I can pretend to be a vixen or rocker, or someone else when I look in the mirror and my eyes are a totally different color but here lately I haven't wanted to wear them.  Today... well today I wanted to be anyone else than the person that just cut her own son from her household.  I wanted to be a safe, loved person who has the bosom of her family in her arms.  By nine fifteen this morning I hated myself so much that if I could have stepped outside of myself and taken a look I would have beat myself up to an inch of my life.  I HATED myself.

How... how does one get there?  How does one reach a point in their lives when they despise the person they are??

From best I can figure. from putting too much trust in people that were never meant to have the trust in the first place.

Took Mommy to rehab and then sat in the car making phone calls for an hour.  Went to get the girls and then to look at the place I am hoping to rent.  It's small but for the sake of my children I will make the best of it.  I could do worse and let worse happen because of that choice.  I am making the choice to do this.

My honest opinion of the plage bloggers?  I was to cry  I could fit two of it in the place I have now.  But I will do it and I will not let him see how badly this is hurting me.

You know I Totally understand where Angela Bassett was coming from in Waiting to Exhale.

Tonight the ladies in the dance ministry lifted me in prayer.  I can't describe the feeling.  And as long as I live I will thank God that yesterday when I wrote one of the members to resign the ministry because quite frankly I wanted to walk into traffic, they were smart enough and loved me enough see past I need to resign to see the I quit and goodbye.  That is exactly what I wrote.although I didn't realize it.  I was writing goodbye letters as if I didn't plan to wake up this morning.

I haven't felt that way in a long time, bloggers.  I haven't felt that if I weren't here my children would be better off in a loooooong time.  Yesterday I felt like that.

I think I've let today float away on my blog.  It won't plague me as badly anymore.  I am letting today go.

I'm going to go shower and wash my bad feelings down the drain.

Goodnight, bloggers.

Love

Whoa!!  Two blog posts from me in one day?  Wow...

Crap, I totally forgot what I was going to say.  NOt what I was going to write about but what I was going to say.  I really hate blonde moments.  And yes I call them blonde moments.  I have plenty of Blonde friends who have proven the joke to be pointless a thousand times over but if the alternative is admitting to my age and calling them Senior moments then I'll keep calling them blonde moments.  Come up with a better name that doesn't imply age and I'll use that.

I still didn't remember what I was going to say...

So let's let's just bounce ideas out of my brain until I find one...

When I think of love, I think of sex.  Most specifically the fact that I don't even remember what it feels like much less the mechanics.  I've heard it's like riding a bicycle.  That you never forget how.  Anyone have a bicycle??  I'm pretty sure I can fall off and prove everyone wrong...

So something I was thinking about yesterday while watching the Love love sappy freaking love marathon on television that I couldn't outrun if I had a racecar was there is a whole lot of fooling around going on before they actually get to that bow chicka wow wow moment.  A LOT.

Wanna know something sad?  I actually had to google the definition of fooling around.  No shit I really did.  But this really isn't news coming from the gir who admittedly doesn't even know how to kiss. (Ooohhh.  If you're a first time reader which let's face it, you aren't because no one reads my blogs, I guess I should have said spoiler alert... my bad.)

SPOILER ALERT

I don't know how to kiss.  And judging by the definition I found online I don't know how to fool around.  From what I can tell.  It's all the stuff that comes before sex done mostly with clothes on and doesn't actually lead up to sex.

I'm sorry... that's fun... how??

All I see is disappointment.  Go through all the kissing and the petting and whatever else and then stop?!?  Oh hell no!  Yeah no. Hashtag, I'm just sayin....

And sexting??  Give me a break!  Getting all hot and bothered and then boom your phone dies.  Not that I've ever sexted.  God that kinda sounds dirty.  The stream of thought that emanated from that one sentence requires a twenty minute shower.

Not that Sex is much fun either but I've been told that in the grand scheme of things, I don't do that well either.  Seriously you're probably laughing but I have actually been told that I suck at sex.

So you can see why I have such a downer attitude on the whole thing.  Well maybe you can't, but I think that's denial on your part.  Or maybe that you are laughing so hard it's too funny to be clear.

I don't associate sex with love.  It's an act.  A physical act that leaves one sweaty and more often than not in serious enough pain to consider going to a gym so the next time you'll at least be limber.

No.  Love to me is someone caring for me.  Not Caring as in buying me stuff and taking care of me, but caring as in he wants me.  He wants to be with me.  He cares about my well being. He's interested in me.  The same as I would for him.

Love is having someone to call/text when you have news good or bad to share.  Having a good day?  Text/call that special person.  Having a bad day and need a smile? Text/call that person.

Love doesn't mean you have to be there 24/7 either.  People have to work, people have to be away.  No one needs to be by each other's side all the time.  I don't have an opinion on the people that feel that if you love someone you will be joined at the hip to them.  Dude, go play poker.  Go out to the club with your boys.  Don't suffocate you to be with me.  You can bet your sweet ass I'm not going to suffocate me to be with you.

Okay that last part didn't sound nice.  It sounded even harsh to myself but then if you understand what I'm saying, they you get it and it doesn't sound harsh.  Don't change who you are to be with me because I will not change who I am to be with you.  You liked me for me so who will you like if I change?

Long conversations where you don't do anything but listen to each other breathe on the phone.  That's cool.  Stalkerish, but cool.  Way stalkerish but still way cool.  That you don't need to say anything but you are probably having the best conversation ever.

Love is so many things that I haven't even touched the top of the list.

Can there be sex without love?  Uhm yeah. Yeah... Yep.   Mmm hmmm.

Can there be love without sex?  Probably.

Which would you prefer?  Sex without love, or love without sex?